Page 281 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Penny

"What are you doing here?" I cry.

His lips curl. "What are you doing here?"

"I… I…" I swallow. What am I going to say?

That I loved what you did to me earlier?

Was so turned on by how you spanked me? When you kicked apart my legs, it sent a primal thrill through me, and when you tore off my panties I almost spontaneously orgasmed?

And that was before I knew it was you. Now that I know it is you, please, please, please can you throw me down on my hands and knees and fuck me, please?

I tip up my chin, then straighten my shoulders. "I’m here to do a job."

"Job, hmm?"

"Yes, a job. You know, the kind where you earn money by the hour."

"And have you done this kind of job before?"

I blink, then slowly shake my head.

A furrow appears between his eyebrows. “This floor is for the more experienced players. How did you get in here?”

I bite the inside of my cheek and glance away, but he pinches my chin, so I have no choice but to look at him.

“Tell me. Now,” he snaps.

“I lied to the bartender. I told him I was desperate for a job, and he pulled some strings with the recruiter to get me up here.” The words rush out of me before I can stop myself.

Jesus, why don’t you tell him your entire life story while you’re at it?

Funny thing? If he commanded me to do so in that hard voice of his, I'd do it, too. And that’s scary.

It’s also sexy. But really, really scary.

His eyes flash, and a vein pops at his temple. He looks like he’s about to lose his temper—which has a certain appeal, given how controlled he’s been so far, but I'm not sure I’m ready to face the consequences when that happens... Yet.

I swallow, and his gaze drops to my throat. His jaw ticks. For a second, I’m sure he’s going to wrap those thick fingers of his around my throat and squeeze. My breath catches. My pussy clenches. What kinky fuckery is this that I find every move of his such a turn on?

He leans in close enough that his rich, spicy scent invades my senses. My nipples harden. A million little fires light up my nerve endings. A moan escapes my lips. Instantly, he looks up and into my face. He seems to remember where he is and who I am, for his gaze clears.

“What the fuck is this asshole’s name?” he growls.

“I... I don’t know his name.”

“You don’t know his name?”

“I, uh, flirted with him and got what I wanted. It was one meeting and very innocent. He also discounted my drink, so you know, all in all, it was worth it.” I bat my eyelashes at him. It only serves to make his lips twitch. And now, I feel like an idiot. You know, 'cause I didn't earlier.

“Innocent, huh?” He asks in a lazy voice which does weird things to my insides.

Jeez, there’s no winning with him. When he’s all forceful, I adore it.

And when he goes all laid back, I crave whatever it is he wants to do to me.

My thoughts are definitely not innocent.

I manage not to blurt that out and firm my lips, which light up those green eyes with a dangerous gleam.

"So, you’ve never been someone’s submissive?"

"Submissive?" I squeak.

He releases my chin, only to press his thumb into the pulse that’s beating at the hollow of my throat, and oh, my god, it’s as if he’s branded me there. My mouth dries. My toes curl. I stare up at him, unable to look away as he holds me pinned in place.

"Tell me, Miss Innocent, did you know you were here to be my submissive?"

"I didn’t know it was going to be you—" In which case I’d have stayed away.

Nope, I lie, in which case I wouldn't have been so ashamed to be aroused by what you did to me.

Somehow, the fact that it was Knight and not some strange man makes it all better—not the part where he threatened me with anal, but the earlier part when he was spanking me, which I, strangely, liked.

A lot. "Also, I know what a submissive is. "

His gaze intensifies. "You do, huh?"

"Of course, I do. I’m not stupid." And I’ve read enough smutty books to be somewhat of an expert on the topic. Not that I’m going to tell him that…

"And yet, you’re here, in this room, with me?” he murmurs in that silky voice which seems to slither down my chest and coil in my belly.

I squeeze my thighs to control the ache that flares there and tip up my chin. "Yeah, uh, I needed a job, and the bartender said they were looking for someone who—"

"Who?" His voice is low, almost deceptively soft, but the skin around his eyes creases, and I know then, he’s not anywhere as composed as he’s pretending to be.

"What did he tell you?" The command inherent in his words causes a spurt of something to twist my belly.

Oh, god, why is the simple act of talking to him an erotic dream come true?

"Don’t keep me waiting. Tell me. Now." He lowers his voice to a hush, and something inside of me loosens.

"He mentioned they needed a woman to entertain one of their clients with specific tastes and that whoever was chosen for the gig would be paid a lot." The words rush out of me.

His jaw ticks. "Specific tastes?"

I nod.

"And you didn’t think to ask what that meant?"

"Uh, I thought, you know, that it’d be like Fifty Shades of Grey." And I’ve always wondered what that kind of a relationship would be like. Again, not something I'm going to tell him.

"You. Thought?" A nerve pops at his temple.

"Y-yes."

"Do us both a favor and stop thinking, because clearly, it makes no difference, even when you do." A coldness pours off of him. This man… Even his anger is like being dropped in the middle of an iceberg. I shiver. Goosebumps pop on my skin.

"No need to be rude." A shiver runs down my spine. "Also, I’m cold."

He looks me up and down. "And you’re surprised, why?"

"Hey, this is what I was told to wear."

"And you always follow what you’re told to do?"

"Not… Always, but this was a paid gig, so—" I raise a shoulder, and his eyelid twitches. Somehow, that feels so much more ominous. The cold vibes pouring off of him drop the temperature until I feel like I’ve shut myself up in a freezer.

Strike that; freezers are warmer than the glacial frigidness of his expression.

"And it didn’t occur to you to check into what was going to be expected of you?

Did no one warn you about what goes on within these walls?

" His voice is tight, the tone ominous. I swallow, then slowly shake my head.

"I-it’s not their fault. I may have, uh, slipped through the checks.

I, uh, may have coerced him into doing me a favor. "

"A favor?"

I nod again. "He wasn’t going to, but I pulled the sympathy card and told him how broke I was, and that this was my last chance to pay for"—I glance away, then back at him—"pay my rent. Also, we agreed that he’d be right outside the room, and if I yelled, he’d come to my rescue."

He blinks. "You’d yell, and he’d come to your rescue?”

I scowl. "That’s what I said."

"I see." He releases his hold on my wrist, then steps back. "Spread your legs."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

I scan his features and the expression on his face is bored. He holds my gaze, and the seconds stretch. A hollow sensation yawns in my belly, a melting sensation grips my thighs, then I slide my legs apart.

He moves so quickly that, one second, he’s standing there; the next, he slaps me between my legs, right on my swollen, sensitized pussy. I yell. I can’t help it.

"What the hell was that?" I snap.

"These walls are soundproof. You can scream all you want—indeed, it’s expected that you will—and no one is going to help you."

My throat closes. That hollow sensation in my belly spreads to my chest. "Oh. Right."

He tilts his head, and of course, I feel a flush coming on. I glance around, then point toward the corner of the ceiling. "Security cameras—"

"Are not allowed in private playrooms. Here, only my word goes, as the Dom; and you, as the sub, are expected to fall in line with it."

I swallow. "So, I am—"

"You are under my control. I hold absolute power over you. When you walked in that door, you left all choice behind."

My pussy clenches. I squeeze my thighs together. I didn’t like the sound of that, did I?

"O-k-a-y." I laugh, but the sound is so uncertain. I flinch. "Look, you’ve had your fun. You’ve proved your point. It was a mistake to take this job. So, guess I’ll say goodbye now and be on my way." I begin to slide my legs together, but he plants his foot between mine.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"I didn’t say you could move, did I?" His words are said in a conversational tone. In fact, from the expression on his face, you’d think we were having a conversation around the office water cooler.

Not that this man would ever be seen near the water cooler, but you know what I mean.

There’s a very attentive look about his eyes.

He’s looking at me with keen interest. Like I’m a lab specimen, or like he’s a predator and I’m a little animal he’s toying with for his pleasure, before he moves in for the kill.

Don’t be a stupid little prey who’s going to be hunted down; stand up for yourself.

And I’m not a simpering, ditsy blonde. I’m not—okay, so I do have my blonde moments—but honestly, I have learned to fight back when I’m faced with a challenge.

I’ve had to with the cards I’ve been dealt in this life.

So why is it, in this man’s presence, I seem to reduce to a stereotypical, hot mess?

I tip up my chin. "I don’t have to do what you say. "

"Oh?" He tilts his head.

My scalp itches. My hindbrain screams it’s not good to provoke someone like him. Someone who’s lethal and, clearly, dangerous. The suit he’s wearing and the veneer of civilization he’s cloaked himself in is a front to make people comfortable, but I’m not buying it.

"I told you it was a mistake I made coming here. Now, if you’ll excuse me—"

"I will not."

I gape. "Sorry? What did you say—?"

"No mistake can go unpunished, Little Dove. It’s time you learn that."

My nipples tighten. My heart seems to sink down to the space between my legs. I swear, every part of my focus is concentrated there right now.

"Wh-what do you want from me?"

"What can you give me?"

What can I give him? Let’s see. I don’t have money to pay for my rent, and all my savings have been used up in taking care of my mother, so that leaves me with— I blink. He must see the expression on my face, for his attention sharpens.

Nope, not going there. This is dangerous territory. And stupid. Really don’t say it. Don’t.

"Say it," he snaps.

I say it. "My virginity."