Dark Domination (Bought By the Billionaire Book 1) (7 page)

This time, she reached for him as her pleasure claimed her. Her fingers found his upper arms and dug into the muscles there, not surprised to find he was as huge as she’d guessed. His biceps were rock hard, without a pinch of fat to soften his flesh.

Based on the feel of those arms alone, he was easily twice her size. Twice her size and terrifyingly strong, but she couldn’t bring herself to be afraid.

Logically she knew she should be wary that he had claimed her body and pleasure as his property and demanded her compliance without any assurances to keep her safe while she was in his keeping. But something inside her insisted that any man who could bring her such exquisite pleasure wasn’t someone she should fear.

And something else inside her—that veiled part only one man had ever tapped into on that stolen night long ago—reveled in being controlled. In her deepest, most private fantasies, she didn’t dream of candlelit dinners and gentle kisses. She dreamed of strong hands, a commanding voice, and a lover who would demand her submission and reward her obedience.

Maybe that’s why it hadn’t been as hard to put herself up for sale as it should have been. She was a self-respecting woman. She didn’t want to be a man’s whore, but in her secret heart, she did yearn to be owned.

And now she was, by a man who gently set her hands back on her armrests before pulling her clothes back into place—top of her dress tugged up and her skirt eased down over her still trembling thighs just as the air pressure in the cabin began to shift.

“We’re nearly there,” he said as he buckled her seatbelt across her waist once more. “Are you ready for a surprise?”

“What kind of surprise, sir?” she asked softly, suddenly shy. It was so strange, to have been pleasured by a man who she knew only by touch and sound.

It made her feel exposed and off-center, but at the same time strangely powerful.

She could tell that she’d pleased him. She’d heard it in his grunt of approval when she’d so eagerly called him “sir,” and in the rich timbre of his voice when he’d ordered her to come. It gave her hope that maybe this month wouldn’t pass as miserably as she’d expected. Maybe she and this man would find their sexual appetites compatible. Maybe they would even become…friends.

Odd, unexpected friends, but friends nevertheless.

The hope made her heart lighter, but it also made her vulnerable. She was unprepared for the sudden shift in her mystery man’s tone, her thoughts too muddled by pleasure to make sense of his words when he said—

“An unpleasant surprise. At least for you.”

She frowned beneath her blindfold, her pulse picking up again. “Why? Didn’t I please you, sir?”

“You pleased me very much. Today.” He spoke louder to be heard over the dull roar of the landing gear descending from beneath the plane, sounding less gruff than he had before.

“But this isn’t about today, beautiful,” he continued. “It’s about penance for the sins of the past.”

A sour taste filled her mouth as she cursed herself for being so ridiculously naïve. She was here to play her part in fantasies this man had been willing to pay a
million
dollars for her to help him fulfill. She’d been a fool to think this was about anything so relatively tame as Dominance and submission.

But still, she had to hold onto hope that she could find a way to please him, to mollify him, to do whatever it took to ensure she returned to her safe place in the world with her mind and body intact.

“What do you mean, sir?” she asked, clutching her armrests tighter as the plane dipped toward the ground. “What sins?”

“Do you really need me to tell you?” he asked, his voice closer than it had been before, making her think he was leaning across the small space that separated their seats. “Can’t you think of a thing or two you should atone for, sweetheart? Haven’t you done something in your twenty-eight years of life on this earth that you regret?”

She swallowed. “I’ve done lots of things I regret. But I’ve never intentionally hurt someone and I’ve apologized for my mistakes whenever I could. In my mind, a person can’t do much more than that when it comes to atonement, sir.”

He chuckled softly, but she couldn’t tell if he was amused or angry. For the hundredth time, she wished she could see his face. Just for a moment. But she knew better than to reach for her blindfold before he’d given her the order. Her owner had proven he could give her great pleasure, but she sensed he wouldn’t hesitate to deliver punishment, as well.

“You really have no shame, do you?” he asked, but before she could answer the wheels connected with the ground and the roar of the plane’s brakes fighting their forward momentum made speech impossible.

Eventually, the plane slowed and the pilot’s voice came over the intercom. “The car is already waiting, sir. Would you like me to have Jean Pierre meet us at the end of the runway, or do you have business you need to conclude?”

“If you’re asking if we’re fucking, the answer is no, Adam,” her owner said, his irritation clear. “Have JP bring the car around. I’m ready to get Miss North settled in her new home.”

Hannah brought her hands to her lap, unbuckling her belt then fighting the urge to fidget with the straps. She sensed she should keep her mouth shut, but she couldn’t help asking, “Is it okay for me to take the blindfold off now, sir?”

“Not yet,” he said briskly. “But soon. The house is only a fifteen-minute drive from the airstrip. I want us to be alone when you see my face. I don’t want to share that moment with anyone, beautiful. That’s just for you and me.”

Hannah nodded and tried to smile, but her lips refused to cooperate. His words were kind enough, but there was something in his tone that brought all her misgivings rising to the surface again.

What if he was hideously disfigured and intended to punish her for all the women who had refused to look beneath his superficial ugliness? What if he had a grudge against the female sex in general and planned to take his grievances out on the whore he’d bought for the month?

Then you’ll show him that you’re different. You’ll prove to him that you’re grateful for his kindness and the pleasure he gives you. You’ll make him see you as a person with integrity who doesn’t deserve to pay penance for the people who have hurt him.

She heard the door to the plane open and a moment later smelled sea air, damp earth, and lush vegetation. But aside from the soft voices of two men conferring outside the door and the distant screeches and warbles of birds, there wasn’t another sound to be heard.

The fact that she was on a private island hit home in a new way, making her shiver despite the steamy humidity creeping in to muddy the plane’s conditioned air.

She was going to be completely alone here with this man, surrounded by people paid to do his bidding. Adam had made it clear he honored his employer’s wishes without question and she had no doubt the other people in his employ would be the same. Mr. X didn’t seem like the type of man who brooked opposition from anyone, let alone the people who worked for him.

She would find no allies among the residents of this island, no one to aid her if she reached out a hand, no one who would care if she cried out for help. Her fate was truly in the hands of the man who gently, but firmly, took her elbow, helping her rise from her chair before leading her toward the door.

“Bend your head a bit,” he said. “Now take the first step down with your left foot. There are four steps down to the ground.”

She minded quickly, without question, which was a good thing considering Mr. X didn’t slow his pace or make any other concessions for her lack of sight aside from the hand on her arm. Thanks to her swift obedience she made it safely out of the plane, across the pavement, and into the expensive smelling car waiting for them not far away without tripping or falling flat on her face.

As her owner settled beside her and the car pulled away down a gravel road, she prayed that her obedience would be enough to keep her safe as she started this month-long odyssey with a man who owned her—body and soul.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jackson

He had planned to remove the blindfold on the plane, but that was before Harley made the mistake of pretending to be a decent human being. Before she professed in that sweet and sexy voice of hers that she’d never intentionally hurt another person and always apologized for her mistakes.

As if an apology would have been enough to right the wrongs she’d perpetrated against him, even if she’d offered it.

Which she hadn’t.

She had ruined his life, potentially killed his best friend—he didn’t know if the wreck had been part of the plan or if Clay was just another casualty in Harley’s quest for Jackson’s destruction—and walked away without a backward glance. And now she was going to pay for it. Her game was over. It was time for his game to begin and he was going to be sure she realized that in a very visceral way.

As soon as they pulled up at the house, he practically dragged her out of the car and up the wide wooden steps leading to the spacious front lanai, where succulent tropical plants in massive planters lent stateliness to the entryway. He pushed through the heavy wooden front door and hurried toward the master bedroom without taking time to appreciate that the home was even more stunning in person than it had been in pictures.

He didn’t pause to admire the beautiful central room with the atrium that let in natural light, the gently whirring bamboo fans, or the peaceful indoor pool at the center of the space. He didn’t stop to greet the small, aging housekeeper with the steel streaked bun who stood silently in one corner of the expansive kitchen as he charged through, tugging a blindfolded woman behind him.

The housekeeper had known what she was getting into when she took this job. All of the staff had. They’d worked for a South American drug lord, before Jackson, and a contract killer who specialized in discreet murders for the very wealthy before that. They knew the rules.

They would perform their duties, avert their eyes, and stay out of his business, and in exchange they would be paid handsomely and live to service another monster for double the salary of their straight-shooting counterparts. He could kill Harley and bury her body in the jungle behind the mansion and the men and women he’d brought with him to the private island wouldn’t lift a hand to stop him.

The thought made his hand tighten around Harley’s as he strode down a wide hallway with dark wooden walls to the master suite at the end. She deserved to die for what she’d done, but that wasn’t in his game plan.

Death was too good for her. Too peaceful. He was going to break her down, force her to acknowledge the darkness inside of her, and then feed her soul, piece by piece, through the shredder, until she was too shattered to face her reflection in the mirror. He wanted every waking moment of her life to be a punishment to be endured, not a gift to be enjoyed.

He would make her suffer, make her sorry, make her wish she’d never been born. But most importantly, he would make her repent for what she’d done to him or drive them both out of their minds trying.

As soon as he reached the bedroom, he stepped through the door and closed it firmly behind him before recapturing Harley’s hand and leading her deeper into the space. When they reached the center of the generous suite, near two small couches and a glass coffee table arranged in front of floor to ceiling windows that showcased a breathtaking view of the lush back lawn, he released Harley’s hand.

With his fingers digging firmly into her shoulders, he turned her to face him, his breath coming faster and his heart thudding heavily in his chest.

“Is everything okay, sir?” she asked, in that soft, submissive voice of hers, the one that was innocence and sex mixed into a potent cocktail that had kept his dick hard for most of the past hour.

Even with her eyes covered, she had read him like an open book and adapted to meet his unique needs in less time than it took most people to eat a meal. She clearly had a gift for giving men what they wanted, but it was all an act. Her perfection was only skin deep. In truth, she was a chimera, a mirage, a beautiful illusion that would linger just out of reach until the day she drew her weapon and plunged it into your heart.

“Sir?” she asked again, her arms beginning to tremble at her sides.

“Quiet,” he said, his voice hoarse and his breath still labored. He bench pressed well over two-hundred pounds and ran ten miles every day, rarely breaking a sweat until mile three, but his training hadn’t prepared him for Harley.

This was more than a battle of bodies. It was a battle of wills, of souls, and it was time she realized that hers belonged to him. She wouldn’t set the tone of their relationship. She wouldn’t be the puppeteer pulling the strings. She was his property and she would show him her true colors or he’d beat them out of her.

“Stop pretending,” he said. “Stop trying to manipulate me. That isn’t going to happen this time, sweetheart.”

Her breath sped, her chest rising and falling faster, but her trembling ceased. “I don’t understand, sir.”

“That’s because you’re a dumb cunt,” he said, enjoying her flinch in response to his hard words. “Now drop the act and show me the vindictive, psychotic bitch I bought. She’s the one I want right now.”

She shook her head ever so slightly and a sob escaped her parted lips. “I don’t understand.”