Submission Part 4 (Servicing the Billionaire) (BDSM Erotic Romance) [NOOK Book]

Mary decides to sign her boss' contract, which gives him complete ownership of her body. He sends her to procure sexy lingerie and clothing before taking her out on the town. When Mary tempts him at a bar, he takes her to the bathroom and has his way with her. When he finishes, he promises to punish her severely at his home for her disobedience.

This 8,000 word story is the fourth part of Adriana Rossi's "Servicing the Billionaire" erotic romance!

Excerpt:


Mary beamed at him at took his proffered arm. “Where are we going, Sir?” she asked.

“To a nice bar,” he replied, looking at her as though he regretted this decision. He led her to his silver Audi R8 and opened her door.

She could feel his eyes raking over her body as she slid inside.

Then he started the car and they sped into the night. Mr. White, it turned out, was a fast driver. He laid his hand in her lap and Mary squirmed as his hand slipped to her thigh and began to knead her flesh. He inched his hand higher and higher up her dress, until the tip of his finger grazed across her lace thong. Mary heard his intake of sharp breath before he pulled his hand out.

Breathing rather hard, she closed her legs and watched Mr. White, who now seemed very agitated. Did I do something?

Again, Mr. White seemed to hear her unspoken thoughts. “I haven’t eaten all day,” he growled as they stopped in front of the bar.

Somehow, she knew that he wasn’t talking about food.

The entered Stanford’s, which seemed to be a high-class bar, and were promptly whisked away to a private table. A waiter came to ask for their drinks.

“Vodka tonic,” Mr. White grunted.

“Do you have Chianti? I’ll have a glass of that.”

He almost drained his glass when they received their drinks and grabbed the waiter’s wrist, asking for another.

Nervous, Mary took an unnecessary large gulp of wine and felt warmth spread to her groin and legs. Mr. White was drumming his fingers on the table—he looked edgy. For the first time, she noticed dark circles under his eyes.

“So,” she began in a timid voice. “Mr. White, why is it that you need to drink blood?”

He looked at her with those haunted eyes. “Because I am a monster.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Drinking blood is the only way I feel normal. It’s an addiction—a necessity.”

Mary found herself unable to meet his intense gaze. “Were you born this way?”

“No, I don’t think so.” He paused. “I have lived for a long time, Mary. I don’t remember.”

His hands were shaking and he clenched his fists to stop them.

She seized his hand. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

“What?”

“You need to feed.” She stood from the chair.

Mr. White’s face was twisted with anger. “Sit down,” he hissed.

“No,” she said, knowing that it would incense him.

“What did you say?”

One look at him told her that it had worked. The tips of his fangs just protruded from his lips as he stood up and grabbed her wrist so tightly that Mary flinched with pain. He dragged her to the back of the bar, which had an intersex single toilet. Not willing to let go, he yanked her inside.

Mary had barely enough time to react before she was slammed against the wall. She caught a brief glimpse of his fangs and shrieked as his mouth closed over her neck. Mr. White covered her mouth with his other hand as his fangs sunk into her flesh.