His Submissive (Fifteen Volume Box Set) Read online

  “Who is it really? You’re a terrible liar.”

  “Gotta go! I’ll be back soon!” she called, running out the door before Danielle could try and grill her further.

  Danielle came to the door as Nicole ran down the stairwell. “Be careful!”

  “I will!”

  And then she reached the first floor landing and burst out into the cool night air. It was chilly and breezy and she was wearing next to nothing.

  The car was a black Bentley, which she remembered from reading the Rolling Stone article. The car was running softly. She opened the passenger door and Red glanced at her. “Get in back,” he said.

  She was about to say yes sir, and apologize for thinking she could ride up front with him. But then she realized he had come for her.

  “No, I won’t get in back,” she said. “If you can’t stand to have me in the front seat next to you, then forget it.”

  He glanced at her sideways. “Fine,” he sighed. “Hurry up.”

  She smiled at her small but important victory, got inside and closed her door. He immediately sped off, driving very fast but in total control. Speed normally scared her, but not with Red at the wheel. He was as home here as anywhere, and his movements were all precise and deliberate, nothing was left to chance.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as he turned one corner and then immediately into the next.

  “You know where.”

  She frowned. “Your little tacky apartment where you bring all your whores.”

  That made him smile. “Whores?”

  “It’s true. And I’m not one of them.”

  He chuckled. “I never said you were.”

  “And I’m not going there.”

  Now it was his turn to frown. “You agreed to my rules.”

  “You said I was free to stop at any time.”

  “I can turn the car around on your word,” he said, daring her.

  “Fine.” She eyed him.

  He slowed the Bentley. He was wearing one of his dark suits with a bright pink tie. He looked dashing, like he’d stepped right out of one of those photo shoots she’d paged through recently. “What is it you want from me?” he asked her.

  “I want a real date.”

  “What’s a real date?”

  “Don’t play dumb,” she told him.

  His jaw stiffened. “I’m not playing anything.”

  She folded her arms. “I’ll go back to your special room,” she said. “Gladly.”

  “That’s better,” he smiled.

  “After we have a proper date.”

  Now he looked like he’d just drank liquid soap. “Fine. Have it your way, Nicole.”

  He made an abrupt U-turn and took off in the opposite direction, even faster than before.

  Within ten minutes, they arrived at a restaurant called The Davenport. A valet took his keys and called him Mr. Jameson in a familiar way. Red escorted Nicole past a small coterie of waiting patrons and smiled at the hostess. “Table for two, if you please.”

  “Of course. Right away,” she said, scurrying for menus and took them right to one of the few remaining window seats.

  “I’m a little underdressed,” Nicole said, after they’d taken their seats.

  He shrugged. “You wanted a real date, you didn’t specify that I had to accommodate your choice of attire.”

  “Fair enough.” She smiled at him. “I like this.” She started browsing the menu. It consisted of foods that she’d never had before, the kind of stuff she’d seen while watching the Food Network perhaps, but never in real life.

  She was still trying to decide on something when the waiter appeared. He was thin, small, older, with a tiny mustache. “Mister Jameson, what can I get for you sir?”

  Red took her menu from her and handed it to the waiter. “She will have the duck cassoulet and I will have the agnolotti with squid.”

  “Wonderful choices, sir.”

  “Also, a bottle of the Latour Pauillac,” Red added, handing his menu to the waiter with finality.

  The waiter nodded briskly, turned on his heel and hurried away.

  Red turned his attention to her now. He folded his hands on the table. “Do you like it here?”

  “It’s very elegant. But it would have been nice if you’d asked what I wanted to eat. I was going to order the organic chicken.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why were you going to order the organic chicken?”

  She hesitated, realizing she didn’t even know why. “Because…”

  “Because it was safe.”

  She frowned. “I like chicken.”

  “Then you’ll love the duck cassoulet.”

  “You need to be in control all of the time,” she said. “It must get exhausting for you.”

  He shrugged. “I think it’s worked out pretty well for me.”

  “It’s exhausting for anyone who has to deal with you.”

  His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Depends on who you ask.”

  “I’m sure all the girls you bring back to the apartment love it.”

  The waiter came to the table with the wine, showed it to them both, and opened it with a flourish. Red tasted it and seemed to approve, so the waiter poured them each a half glass and set the bottle in the center of the table before leaving.

  Nicole sipped her wine. It tasted amazing, better than any drink she’d ever had. She was trying to decide if the wonderful taste of her wine was more an after-effect of being in Red’s presence. Everything seemed better right now. Her clothes felt sexier, her eyes sharper, she heard everything.

  The clinking forks and knives as an older couple ate something unrecognizable at a table just over Red’s shoulder, someone across the room tittering laughter.

  Red was looking at her with interest. “You’re so young,” he marveled.

  She shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Perhaps too young for such a complicated relationship.”

  “And perhaps you’re too old to be playing games all the time.” She arched her eyebrow at him.

  “Touché.” He grinned and sipped his wine.

  A few minutes later, the waiter brought their food on steaming hot plates. Nicole ate her duck without any outward signs of hesitation, knowing that Red would be looking for any excuse to poke fun at her naiveté.

  And in any case, the food was tasty; she did enjoy the duck after all.

  “So what’s it like to be one of the richest people in the world?” she asked him at one point.

  He chuckled. “It’s not too bad.” He considered it further. “You know I didn’t come from money.”

  “You grew up in a two-bedroom apartment with just your mother and little brother. Your mother worked two jobs. You did so well in school academically and with your swimming that you received a full scholarship to Harvard.”

  He looked surprised. “You did your research.” Red leaned over and poured more wine into her glass.

  “I guess I have the advantage when it comes to knowing your past,” she said. “You know almost nothing about me.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said.

  “Oh? Tell me something about my childhood.”

  He sighed and checked his watch. “Another time perhaps.”

  “That means you don’t know.”

  “I’m not in the habit of lying.” For the first time, his voice had an edge to it. His dark eyes locked on hers and she thought again that she would do anything to please him.

  The waiter came and collected their plates and asked if they’d like any dessert. Red answered. “No, we have other plans for desert,” he said, staring right at her.

  “Very good, Mr. Jameson. I’ll get your check.”

  ***

  Nicole was quiet on the ride to the apartment, but Red didn’t seem to notice.

  She was excited to go there with him. She remembered how it had felt when she’d come the last time. She wanted that feeling again, wanted to
have his hands touching her in every private place, wanted to be naked so he could look at her, watch her, do with her as he liked.

  But she was also afraid. What if he continued to escalate the punishment and pain he was inflicting? Nicole wasn’t sure that she wanted to experience much more of that kind of thing.

  And she also didn’t like going to a place that was clearly designed for this purpose, knowing she was just one of many, many women he’d brought there for exactly this kind of rendezvous.

  Red parked his car in an underground lot and then escorted Nicole up through an entrance that brought them out at street level. When they came out, he pointed across the road to a brick building with a large man outside in leather pants and a tight black t-shirt. He had a handlebar mustache and tattoos on only one arm.

  “That’s Club Dominion,” he said. “A very interesting place. Maybe I’ll take you sometime.”

  The bouncer—or whatever he was—glared at them, oblivious of who Red was, or simply not caring.

  “What’s so interesting about it?” she asked, as they continued walking in the other direction.

  “You need to experience it yourself to answer that question.”

  “So it’s an S&M club,” she said.

  He laughed. “That’s a quaint term.”

  “Sorry, I’m not up on my fetish terminology.”

  “I like to think of it as a school of discipline,” he said. “And for those who have difficulty learning, Club Dominion can sometimes be very helpful in providing extra motivation.”

  “I think it looks creepy. That man out front? Ugh.”

  “He’s really nice once you get to know him. Unless you’re one of his subs, that is.”

  “Whatever.” She shook her head and walked faster.

  Soon they’d arrived at the street where his apartment was located. The hookers were out in force again, but the little Hispanic man who Red had punched out was nowhere to be found.

  They went inside his apartment.

  Red turned to her. “So, you had your fun. Now it’s my turn.”

  She crossed her arms. “What if I refuse?”

  His eyes darkened. “I let you drop the formality while we were at dinner, but you can’t continue this way.”

  She felt annoyed. She didn’t want to play his stupid game right now. “I don’t understand, actually. What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal is, we had an agreement.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t say I’d be going along with every little command you give me. I’m my own person, you know. Why does it have to be this elaborate production? Can’t you just kiss me?”

  He shook his head and turned away from her. “Damn you,” he muttered.

  For the first time, she was afraid she’d pushed him too far. “I’m just asking—“

  He spun around and his face was a mask of anger. “Enough. Ask again, push me again, and you will never feel so alone. You think a few days of me ignoring you was painful?”

  Her mouth got very dry then. He’d hit a sore spot. She’d somehow convinced herself that she was special to him now, that he was falling in love with her. But here he was, essentially telling her that he’d drop her like a bad habit if she asked one more question. And the worst part was, she believed him.

  “Sorry, sir,” she said. “Sorry for my insolence.”

  He was still angry and his chest was moving up and down quickly as his nostrils flared. But there was still that intense hunger in his eyes.

  “Don’t you want to make love to me?” she asked him, finally. “Sir.”

  His lips tightened. “I told you not to ask questions.”

  “But I called you sir, sir.”

  “I don’t want any more questions from you tonight. I satisfied my part of the bargain, now you will do the same.”

  “Yes, sir.” As she said it, the tears came. She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t help it. The shame of it all. The wanting him, the needing his touch, and his coldness. She was just a plaything to him.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked her.

  She shook her head and turned away. Her shoulders trembled. Soon she was sobbing outright and she hated herself for it. Hated herself for her weakness in front of him. He would likely put her out on the street now and she’d have to find her way home.

  And then the real freeze out would begin.

  But instead of pushing her out the door, Red touched her shoulder. “Come.” His voice was gentle.

  “Sir, I’m so sorry, sir.” She shook her head. “I’m fine, sir.”

  “Come with me, Nicole.” He grabbed her hand in his and led her to the bedroom.

  “I’ll get on my knees for you,” she told him, happy that he was giving her a second chance.

  “No. To the bed.”

  He took her in his arms and laid her on her back, and then he gracefully lay down next to her, still holding her in his arms. His dark eyes were staring into her own.

  “Please, don’t look at me when I’m like this,” she said, tears still streaming down her face.

  “Why? You’re beautiful.”

  “I feel hideous.”

  “No. No you’re not.” His eyes studied her as if she was a painting. “I don’t ever want to make you cry,” he said.

  “I’m fine, really, sir.”

  “You don’t have to call me sir right now.”

  “But I want to, sir,” she pouted.

  Suddenly Red leaned in and his lips met hers. He was so soft, so gentle that waves of pure happiness rippled through her body. His lips were soft and warm, and his breath smelled of mint and wine.

  He stroked her cheek with one hand as he ever so lightly kissed her lips. “Nicole, my beautiful, sweet, innocent Nicole.” He kissed her again. Looked deeply into her eyes.

  His body was against her and she could feel the strength of him and the heat of him. She wanted him to undress her, she wanted to take his clothes off and feel every part of him touching her.

  But Red took everything slowly. His gentle kisses on her mouth until she could barely resist crying out for more.

  And then his tongue, finally, entering her mouth. She pushed against him urgently, thrusting her hips into his as she took his tongue in her mouth greedily. She wanted him to know that he could have her right now.

  Of course he knew it already. She was as transparent to him as a piece of glass, and he was in no rush. In fact, the more aggressively she tried to egg him on, the slower he went.

  It was a new kind of torture, exquisite in its own way, and just as painful. Her soft mound of flesh between her legs vibrated with pleasure and excitement, wet as wet could be. She spread her legs, hoping he would see the invitation and take it.

  But Red was focused on her face, on her mouth. Kissing her lips, then her eyelids, her cheeks. When he kissed her neck, she moaned.

  As soon as she moaned, he stopped. He began tracing a pattern of some sort near her neckline. Her nipples stiffened, poking through her sleeveless shirt.

  “Do you want me?” he asked.

  “So much, sir,” she whispered. Their eyes met and a shock of recognition pulsed through her.

  He’s my soul mate. I’m meant to be with him.

  “What are you willing to do to have me?” he asked her.

  “Anything, sir. Anything you ask, sir.”

  “I’m a complicated person,” he told her. “You understand that.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He shook his head. “No, no sirs just now. This isn’t a game.” He stroked her hair lightly. “I need you to know that if we get serious with one another…I could cause you a great deal of pain.”

  She smiled. “Isn’t that what you enjoy doing?”

  He didn’t return her smile and she saw he was genuinely upset. “Not that kind of pain,” he replied.

  “How can you know what you’ll do to me before you’ve done it?”

  He smiled ruefully. “Because of my past. And the best way to judge the future is base
d on past behavior. I’m trying to warn you, Nicole.”

  “I don’t care about your past,” she told him, and now she reached up to stroke his hair. He flinched away.

  “Don’t.”

  “What did I do?”

  “Don’t touch me like that.” He shook his head. “I need to be in control of you at all times,” he said. “I need to make all the decisions in the bedroom.”

  “But why?”

  “I’m not interested in explaining further.”

  She sighed, exasperated with him. “You confuse me. One second you act like you want to open up and talk to me, the next you shut down entirely.”

  He grinned. “You’re getting it.” His hand reached up and stroked her cheek. “You’re quite perceptive.”

  “I don’t get anything. But I know that I want to try.”

  “Even though it’s going to be a disaster?”

  “We’ll get through it together,” she told him.

  He looked stunned. “Together.”

  “Yes, together.”

  “God, you are truly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, and then he was kissing her again. More forcefully this time.

  Her got on top of her, all of his considerable weight pressing down on her, but she didn’t care. She wanted to tear his clothes off, but knew he wouldn’t allow it.

  She could feel his erection through his pants. It was huge. It pressed against her and she did her best to slide her pussy up and down on it without being too obvious. She didn’t want to risk turning him off. But then again, she was going insane with desire.

  Red seemed to be overcome with desire himself. He grasped the top of her shirt and suddenly pulled, ripping it, then pulled again, tearing it off of her. He looked at her breasts. “Your nipples,” he said. “They need sucking.” And then his mouth was on her nipples, softly sucking. Licking. Licking faster. She was so tender, so ready for him.

  She moaned as his sucking became fierce. Soon he was biting her nipples, but just hard enough to make the pleasure that much more intense.

  “Red,” she moaned. “Oh, Red.”

  His hands caressed her stomach and chest. Played with her nipples, torturing her with the pleasure of it. He was a master musician and she was his instrument. Her body was his. “I’m yours,” she told him.