His Submissive (Fifteen Volume Box Set) Read online

  His Submissive

  Hannah Ford

  Kelly Favor

  Favor Ford Publishing

  Copyright © 2017 by Favor Ford Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Want To Be In The Know?

  What He Wants by Hannah Ford

  What He Wants (What He Wants, Book One)

  What He Craves (What He Wants, Book Two)

  What He Demands (What He Wants, Book Three)

  What He Needs (What He Wants, Book Four)

  What He Desires (What He Wants, Book Five)

  What He Protects (What He Wants, Book Six)

  What He Hides (What He Wants, Book Seven)

  For His Pleasure by Kelly Favor

  For His Pleasure (For His Pleasure, Book One)

  For His Taking (For His Pleasure, Book Two)

  For His Keeping (For His Pleasure, Book Three)

  For His Honor (For His Pleasure, Book Four)

  For His Trust (For His Pleasure, Book Five)

  For His Forever (For His Pleasure, Book 6)

  His Every Desire (For His Pleasure, Book 7)

  His Every Touch (For His Pleasure, Book 8)

  Want To Be In The Know?

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  What He Wants by Hannah Ford

  What He Wants (What He Wants, Book One)

  NOAH

  I wanted to fuck her as soon as I saw her. That curvy little body was all tarted up in a tight little black dress, and those nice round tits were practically spilling out the top. Her dark hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders, and she sipped on a drink, her full pink lips pretty and pouty and just made for sucking my dick.

  I sat at the bar and watched her for a while, biding my time. She was at some kind of party – bachelorette from what I could tell, and it was almost enough to put me off the whole idea. Women at bachelorette parties were a particular kind of crazy, one I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with.

  A couple of blond women at the other end of the bar were staring at me, and I tried not to encourage them by making eye contact. Not that it was difficult. I couldn’t stop staring at that shapely little vixen on the other side of the room. Her dress hit just below the knee, and when she turned around, giving me a view of that gorgeous round ass, my cock got hard.

  I was so transfixed that I didn’t realize one of the blondes had made her way over to me.

  “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” she tried. I almost sighed out of boredom, but that was too rude, even for me.

  “I doubt it,” I said, although it was entirely possible that she did know me from somewhere. Thankfully, I knew I probably hadn’t slept with her. She wasn’t my type – too blonde, too skinny, too much like a Barbie.

  “No, I know I recognize you.” She motioned to her friend, another bottled blonde, to come over. “Alexa, isn’t this Noah Cutler?”

  Apparently she didn’t think it would make more sense to just ask me if I was Noah Cutler. I took a sip of my drink and resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

  From across the room, I watched as the curvy bombshell made her way to a table all by herself, peeling herself off from the rest of the party.

  “Yes!” the blonde’s friend said. “You gave that speech at my graduation last year. I absolutely loved it.”

  “I’m glad,” I lied. I didn’t give a shit if she loved my speech or not. College was bullshit, the kind of thing people thought they needed, when really, I hadn’t learned anything in college that I couldn’t have learned on my own.

  I drained the rest of my drink and concentrated on the brunette. She turned toward me, pushing her hair back from her face, and I was struck again by her beauty. She happened to look up just at that moment, and our eyes met.

  She turned away quickly, embarrassed.

  I had to have her.

  And then, just like that, I saw my opening.

  Some dickhead guy was making his way over to her. Jealousy and possessiveness flooded me. She was mine. And I was going to make sure I had her tonight.

  “Excuse me,” I said to the blondes.

  And then I went to go claim my prize.

  CHARLOTTE

  I saw the sexy stranger before he saw me.

  He was standing in the corner of the bar, two beautiful blond women draped on his arm. One of the women was bent over, whispering something in his ear, and when she threw her head back and laughed, he glanced up and met my eye.

  I quickly looked away, embarrassed that he’d caught me staring. Men like him – tall, dark hair, full lips, sexy stubble on his ruggedly handsome face –weren’t interested in women like me. Besides, I wasn’t here to meet a man. I was here for a bachelorette party.

  Not that the party was anything to get too excited about. I hated parties as a rule, and bachelorette parties were a particularly heinous form of torture. Especially one where I didn’t know anyone but the bride, who was a fellow law student at Middleton University.

  I thought coming to this party might help me meet some of my classmates – Cora seemed to know everyone in our class -- but all it was doing so far was reminding me how much I hated to socialize. Oh, and making me realize that Cora, even though she was engaged, apparently subscribed to the theory that whatever happened at bachelorette parties stayed at bachelorette parties, because she’d been throwing herself at different men all night. Right now she was out on the dance floor, grinding on a man wearing plaid dress pants.

  I took a sip of my drink – ginger ale with cranberry, my usual, because it made me seem like I was drinking alcohol even when I wasn’t– and tried to look busy. The last thing I wanted was one of the party-goers to come over and try to drag me into their dance frenzy.

  And then, suddenly, he was by my side.

  No, not the sexy stranger I’d been trying to avoid staring at, but another man.

  This one was paunchy, slightly balding, and had hairy knuckles.

  “Let me buy you a drink, sweetheart,” he slurred. I sighed. Men like him always tried to hit on me. They thought that since I was considered a “bigger girl” they’d have more of a chance with me. What they didn’t understand was that just because I was carrying a few extra pounds didn’t mean I was desperate.

  “No, that’s okay,” I said politely. I indicated the drink I was holding. “I already have one.”

  He frowned, like he was trying to work out a particularly hard math problem. Then, brightening, he reached out, took the drink from my hand and poured it onto the floor. “There!” he exclaimed, proud of himself. “Now you need another one.”

  I was so shocked, I wasn’t sure what the appropriate response was. The man leaned in and slung his arm over my shoulder. “Come on,” he said, his breath smelling of alcohol and garlic. “Lemme buy you a drink.”

  “Leave her alone,” someone growled, and before I knew what was happening, the sexy man from across the bar had grabbed the back of the pudgy man’s shirt and had tossed him to the side.

  “Hey!” the man protested. He stumbled for a few steps, almost hitting the table behind us, then readjusted his suit coat. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  But my k
night in shining armor gave him a menacing look, and after thinking about it, the man slunk away, back to his to group of friends.

  “You okay?” the gorgeous stranger asked. Up close, he was just as sexy, although less polished than I’d first thought. He wore an expensive suit, but his white shirt was unbuttoned at the top and rumpled, like he’d spent the day getting into fights instead of behind a desk.

  “I’m fine.” My throat had gone dry. This man was big – tall, at least six foot three, with broad shoulders and huge hands. I was five ten and carried more weight than I probably should have – most men made me feel big and oafish around them, but this man made me feel tiny. I imagined him grabbing me with those big hands of his, and heat flooded my core.

  “What were you drinking?”

  I was way too embarrassed to tell him I was drinking cranberry and ginger ale. “Um, vodka and cranberry.”

  He frowned, like this was unacceptable. He reached his hand up and motioned for the cocktail waitress. His sleeve slid back for a moment, revealing a beautiful silver watch and a strong-looking forearm. Not that I was surprised –Cora had chosen this bar precisely because it was supposed to be height of sophistication. But she must have gotten something wrong, because even though the clientele did seem sophisticated – mostly young professionals, out after work on a Friday night –a lot of them were already sloppy drunk. Not this man, though – this man was completely in control of himself and his surroundings.

  The cocktail waitress appeared as if out of nowhere. “What can I getcha?”

  “Two Manhattans,” the man said. He set his empty glass down on the waitress’s tray. I didn’t know what a Manhattan was, but I was pretty sure it had whiskey in it. Whiskey sounded dangerous and scary, the kind of thing you shouldn’t be drinking unless you had sophisticated tastes and a high tolerance for alcohol.

  “Oh, no,” I tried. “I’ll just have a – ”

  But the suited stranger flicked his wrist, sending the waitress away before I could finish.

  He turned around and gave me a smile. “It’s good to try new things.”

  “I try new things.” My tone was more defensive than I’d meant, but it was kind of a sore spot for me. I wasn’t known for being adventurous – in fact, the most adventurous thing I’d done lately was taken a hot yoga class – but this man didn’t know that. He didn’t know anything about me. And yet he was surveying me with a certain familiarity, like he could tell I was the kind of person who didn’t try new things. It was unnerving.

  The man’s eyes raked up my body, like he was trying to decide what, if anything, he should do with me. Instantly, I felt self-conscious, and I shifted on my chair. “You here by yourself?” he asked.

  “No.” I swallowed. “Bachelorette party.”

  “Fun,” he said, sounding like he knew it was anything but. He gestured to the candy bracelet I was wearing, another one of Cora’s bright ideas. “What’s with that?”

  “Oh,” I said, fingering it. “It’s … it’s kind of game. You know, for the party.” I gestured to the dance floor, where most of the party guests had morphed from dancing to completely over-the-top, crazy gyrating. Men, sensing their chance to possibly get lucky, had jumped into the mix, creating a colorful blur of sweaty bodies.

  My companion didn’t even turn to look. “And?”

  “And what?”

  “And what are you supposed to do with it?” He reached out and tugged on the bracelet. His fingers against my skin sent an electric current flying up my spine. The elastic bracelet zinged back and hit my wrist.

  “It’s too embarrassing to mention.”

  “Try me.”

  The waitress returned with our drinks, and the man grabbed them off the tray in one fluid motion and handed one to me. I hesitated. I didn’t usually drink. In fact, I’d just turned twenty-one.

  “Well,” I said, taking the glass he was offering. “We’re supposed to get different men to bite one of the candies off, and then have them sign our arms.”

  He laughed. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “I know.” I shrugged. “But how could I really say no? Everyone else was doing it.”

  “Do you always do things just because everyone else is doing them?” A brief look of amusement crossed his face, like he couldn’t imagine doing something just because everyone else was. Then he reached out and took my arm, turning it over to inspect my wrist. “You don’t have any signatures.” His finger slid over my pulse point, then moved slowly up my elbow before he finally let go. His hands weren’t what I would expect from someone wearing such an expensive watch – his fingers betrayed something else, a hard past or maybe manual labor. They were manly and slightly rough, not the kind that came from typing briefs all day and dialing an Iphone.

  I took a sip of my drink. It was definitely whiskey. Or, at least, what I imagined whiskey to taste like since I’d never actually had whiskey before. It burned going down, but I was glad. The sensation kept my mind off what was happening.

  The stranger reached out and took my arm again, turning it over gently in his hand before raising it to his mouth. Then he reached down and slowly, deliciously, bit one of the candies off my bracelet. His lips were hot and soft, and I felt the quick flick of his tongue against my skin as he took the candy into his mouth.

  Then, with a flourish, he picked the pen up off the table where the waitress had left our bill, and put a big X on my arm. It was like he was marking me, taking ownership of me, and the thought filled me with a weird little thrill.

  “There,” he said.

  “You’re supposed to sign your name.”

  “But that would ruin the mystery.” He grinned, and I felt myself melt. I’d never understood how women could end up hooking up with guys they’d met in bars, but I was shocked to realize that if this man had asked me to go home with him right now, I would have done it.

  “Charlotte! What are you doing over here all by yourself!” Cora’s voice came trilling through the crowd, and then she appeared at our table. The strapless dress she was wearing was hanging down over her chest, and you could see the outline of her strapless bra. Cora had a great body – tiny waist, long legs, perfectly proportioned – but somehow, her clothes never seemed to fit quite right.

  “Oh,” she said when she saw the man standing next to me. “I didn’t realize you had company.” She held her hand out. “I’m Cora.”

  I took another sip of my drink as disappointment flooded my body. Now that Cora was here, I would be left in the dust. I knew it was ridiculous – I’d just met this man, after all. And to be perfectly honest, I didn’t have time for a relationship, or even a hook-up. I was in my first year of law school, and it was demanding and crazy – I loved every minute of it, but it didn’t leave me much time for a personal life.

  “I was just leaving,” the man said. He didn’t offer an introduction of his own. In fact, he didn’t really look at Cora at all. He just drained the rest of his drink, then turned around and returned to the blondes who’d been patiently waiting for him.

  “What a jerk,” Cora said, obviously offended by the fact that the man hadn’t fallen for her charms. She looked down at my drink and wrinkled her delicate nose. “What are you drinking? Whiskey?”

  “Yes,” I said defiantly, and took another sip, even though my throat was still burning from the last one.

  “Well, come on, you need to dance.”

  She grabbed my arm and pulled me onto the dance floor, where I spent the next hour dancing and trying not be obvious about the fact that I was looking for the man who’d drawn an X on my arm. But I didn’t see him again. He must have left the bar soon after Cora interrupted us.

  Finally, at around nine o’clock, I decided that I’d had enough.

  I told everyone I had to be up early the next morning, which wasn’t a lie. The library was waiting for me.

  “Are you sure?” Kristin, another girl from our class, asked. She was drunk and slurring her words. �
��You should come with us to the next place.” She turned to Cora. “Cora, we’re going to the next place, right?”

  “Yes, in just a minute,” Cora said. She’d found a man with a shaved head who’d eaten a candy off her bracelet and had decided to sign her ample cleavage instead of her arm as the instructions had indicated.

  I said my goodbyes and slipped out of the bar.

  Once on the street, I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn’t particularly close to those people, and I’d always had a hard time partaking in small talk. Once you asked someone what they did for a living and where they lived, what else were you supposed to ask? There was nowhere for the conversation to go. I was a lot more comfortable in small groups, where people were a little more open.

  The city was pulsing with life as people ducked into bars and strolled down the sidewalk, enjoying the late spring night. In fact, the street was so crowded, that at first I didn’t realize someone was walking right next to me. I quickened my stride, but he matched his to mine. I glanced over, annoyed, expecting to see a homeless person, or perhaps a drunken bargoer who would try to engage me in conversation.

  My stomach flipped and my heart jumped into my throat. It was the stranger from the bar. Mr. X.

  “Hello,” he said. His voice was smooth, but there was a huskiness to it that I didn’t remember hearing before.

  “Hi,” I said. I swallowed. Part of me was unnerved and a little scared. Obviously this man had waited outside the bar for me to leave. The other part of me was filled with excitement.

  “Didn’t feel like continuing the party?” Mr. X asked me cheerfully.