Claimed (The Billionaire's Command #2) (2 page)

When Mark rang at my door I answered enthusiastically. He looked me up and down and let out a low whistle.

“Damn, that’s a hell of a dress,” he told me as he kissed me softly on the cheek and extended a hand, which I took.

“Thanks, I’m glad you like it, seeing as you paid for it.”

“If that’s the kind of thing you buy with my money I’m letting you buy a whole new wardrobe!” he answered.

Mark had parked his car outside my building, and my jaw dropped when I saw it. He drove a veritable sports car! Sleek, low to the ground and metallic looking, it practically screamed money.

“Wow, you drive this?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah, get in!” he encouraged, and I did as he asked, sliding into the smooth passenger seat and giggling with excitement as the engine roared to life.

As we drove down the city streets, I realized this car was designed for the highway, or the racetrack. The engine purred, like it wanted to go faster, like it needed more as we drove through streets where the speed limit was 35.

We finally pulled up in front of a restaurant. I’d long since lost track of where in town we were, I hadn’t even had the chance to go anywhere except find the grocery store near my house, the Hibiscus offices
and Elizabeth’s boutique.

As soon as we entered I felt out of place. This was the sort of place celebrities ate at. Soft lighting, tables set far apart, waiters darting silently like ghosts in between tables, this wasn’t the sort of place I normally ate at.

The waiter greeted Mark by name and led us to a table that I had a sneaking suspicion was Mark’s regular seat. As we were led past the other diners, I felt like everyone was staring at me, like they would immediately recognize me for being a fraud. I didn’t belong here. Sure, I was wearing an expensive dress, but surely everyone saw through it and saw the kid who grew up in a lower class family in Oklahoma.

When we sat down I leaned forward towards Mark. “I didn’t know we were going to go somewhere this fancy!”

“Of course! This is our second official date, I wanted to make it special for you.”

“I don’t belong here at all.”

“Nonsense. Of course you do. There’s no reason why you don’t belong here. You’re with me. Besides, you’re a human being, aren’t you? Relax. You look fine, no one thinks you look out of place.”

Mark’s words reassured me somewhat, and I decided my paranoia was probably more responsible for a lot of these thoughts than anything else.
I relaxed a bit and looked at the menu.

There wasn’t a single item on the menu for under $50. But, it looked absolutely delicious.
I spent ages going through the mouth-watering entrees, trying to decide on something. I settled on the coq au vin, which the waiter assured me was a wonderful choice.

“
So, how were your first couple of days working for my company?” Mark asked. “Be honest, I’m using you as  a spy to see how my other employees are really doing,” he joked.

“Honestly,
it’s been good. I like Danielle, I like my work, it’s interesting. I haven’t gotten a chance to do a lot yet, but I like how it’s going. And I have to say, I like the fact that it’s October and I can still go outside without even wearing a jacket.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely one of the advantages of living here. I hope you didn’t pack all of your winter clothes,
you probably aren’t going to need them.”

“If only it was cheaper to live here, it would be perfect.”

“That really is the downside of the city. Especially with the huge influx in tech companies that have come around lately, rent prices especially have become pretty bad.”

We continued dinner, chatting about ourselves. I noticed that, like me, Mark never spoke of his childhood or his family.
It was almost as though we both realized neither one of us really wanted to talk about it.

When dinner was finished Mark and I went for a walk around the city for a little bit before he offered to take me home.

“Unless you’d like to come to my place...” he offered with a twinkle in his eye.

“You’re right, I don’t know what it looks like, and you’ve been to my place,” I replied, slipping my hand into his.

Ten minutes later Mark’s car slipped into his parking spot in the garage underneath his building. We took the elevator to the top floor, which opened up directly into his suite. Enormous, expensive and open plan, the place was hands down the most amazing apartment I’d ever been in.

“Jesus, you live here?” I asked as I walked around, looking at the expensive furniture, the granite counters in the kitchen, the enormous flat screen hanging up against a wall in the living room and everything else. I knew Mark was rich, of course, but
it’s one thing to know a person has more money than you’re ever going to see in your lifetime, and another entirely to physically see it spent in front of you.

“I guess you like it then?” Mark asked sheepishly.

“I do! Yeah, sorry, I guess I kind of invited myself in to stare,” I blushed, realizing what I’d been doing could probably be considered rude.

“Don’t worry about it. Here, let me show you the bedroom.”

* * *

Although I hadn’t expected to, I ended up spending the night at Mark’s apartment, in his bed. I hadn’t slept in another man’s bed in a long time.
This was different, this felt right.

I lay awake
after we had sex. I could hear Mark’s gentle breathing, soft and rhythmic, his hard chest moving up and down as he slept. He had tied my wrists to the bedposts then gone down on me, his tongue doing things to me that drove me insane as I writhed under him.

I still didn’t know why I loved being submissive to him like this, but I did.
The more he did it, the more I wanted it. The more I needed it.

The next three months absolutely flew by.
Mark and I saw each other three, maybe four times a week. He wasn’t kidding about travelling a lot; there were quite a few weeks where he was away on business during which we wouldn’t see each other at all. And when he wasn’t working on the business, he was working on his charity, an organization dedicated to helping disadvantaged kids get access to computers, textbooks and tutors for school. Mark loved his charity, and spoke about it constantly. As the time passed, I found that I missed him when he was gone. I wanted to spend every waking moment of every day with Mark. I began to realize after a while that I was well and truly falling in love with him. There was absolutely no doubt about it.

We were
lying in bed, in his enormous, ridiculously comfortable king bed, both of us staring at the ceiling, exhausted from the sex we’d just had, when he asked me the last thing I had ever expected to hear.

“Listen, Caroline, I want to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Before I start, I want you to know that it’s totally fine if you say no. I’ll understand.”

“O...kay...” I answered, not really sure where this was going.

“I want you to be my submissive. I want to claim you, to make you mine, every second of every day.
It would mean that no matter where we are, no matter what, you would have to do anything and everything I ask of you.”

I didn’t know what to say.
I hadn’t been expecting this at all. His submissive? That sounded really permanent somehow. I mean, I liked it when he tied me up, when he spanked me, when it felt like he had all of the control, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to make it permanent.

“I... would have to think about it, I think,” I replied eventually.

“Of course. Take your time. I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do.”

I wasn’t sure why I didn’t immediately say no. I mean, wasn’t that what anyone else would have done? Who agrees to be their boyfriend’s submissive?

The next day Mark was going away for a week to Seattle. I spent my days working, my nights sitting in my apartment, wondering about what my life would be like if I took Mark up on his offer? And what if I didn’t? Would he break up with me? I didn’t want that, of course, and I also didn’t know if it would happen.

At the same time, thinking about the things Mark might make me do if I was bound to listen to his commands every second of every day sent my heart racing.
What if he wanted me to have sex with him in his office? In a public place? I’d have no choice but to obey, to do exactly what he wanted. I could feel my panties moistening at just the thought of it.

The question was, however, did I want to move this fast? I wasn’t a trusting person by nature, my upbringing and former relationships had ensured that.
We had only been dating a few months, after all. I felt like I knew Mark, and yet at the same time, I also knew there were things he wasn’t telling me. What were those things? Would I consider them deal breakers? Those were questions I might not even know the answer to before making this decision.

My body wanted me to say yes, but my mind wanted me to say no.

By the time Mark came back from Seattle I still didn’t have an answer for him. He told me again that it was fine, there was absolutely no rush. I appreciated the fact that he gave me the time to come to my own decision without pressuring me into doing something I wasn’t comfortable with. In the meantime we continued dating, seeing each other. I found myself sleeping over at his place more and more, and every time he went away on business I felt my heart panging, longing for him.

A month or so after he had originally asked me about becoming his submissive,
Mark asked me out to a charity dinner his family was holding.

“I don’t want to go, I absolutely hate these things. I know my father holds them on purpose, to make us all stand around and look good in photos and pretend we’re a normal family, but I despise them more than anything.
Also with Teach the Children, it’s good for me to show up at my family’s dinners, for the exposure and everything. That said, I’d love to take you as my date this year. You would have to meet the rest of my family. I promise you, my sister is lovely.”

“Well seeing as you’re selling it to me as such a fun night, how can I say no?” I answered.
Mark smiled at my sarcasm.

“Yeah, well, I figured it’s best to be honest. The
dinner’s in New York, we’d have to fly over there the morning of, then fly back the next day.”

“I’d love to go with you.”

Mark never mentioned his family. Well, rarely, anyway. I’d gotten the impression that his family and his childhood weren’t things he wanted to talk about. Every time it was brought up he good moody and distracted. To me, that was perfectly fine. It went well with my complete distaste of talking about my own family, and we lived in a comfortable acceptance that neither one of us wanted to talk about our pasts.

The next Saturday morning Mark and I flew out to New York City.
I had gone shopping the day before for yet another expensive dress; Mark insisted on buying it for me, and I definitely didn’t mind. In a way it was nice, having someone willing to buy my nice things. I knew the amount I was spending was like pennies to him, but I still liked the fact that he was willing to do it. I had never had such a nice wardrobe before in my life.

The dress bag was in the back of the car as we headed to the airport. I assumed we were flying commercial, but to my surprise, rather than heading towards the departures section of the airport, the car driving us instead made a turn down a service road. Dust flew up behind us until we finally reached a gate. The driver spoke to the guard for a minute, then we were waved through and driven to a hangar where a private plane stood, waiting for us.

I couldn’t believe it. We were going in a private jet?

“Is this really for us?” I asked, looking at Mark.

He grinned, noting my obvious excitement.

“Yup, certainly is.
I don’t like flying commercial. Too many chances for delays, it’s not as comfortable, that sort of thing. Besides, we’re flying on business, so I can take the business’ jet to get there.”

He took my hand and led me up the stairs into the interior. Leather seats lined one side of the plane,
with tables in front of some of the chairs in case anyone wanted to get some work done. On the other side of the plane was a long banquet table with built-in dishes, I suppose so they didn’t slip during takeoff and landing. At the back of the plane was a conference room with a large table in the center. This was incredible! I didn’t even know planes looked like this. I mean, I knew businesses had private jets and all that, but I had never stopped to think about what they might look like inside. This was definitely nicer than the flight we’d taken to Hawaii. Not too shabby for my third ever flight on a plane.

I sat down in one of the leath
er seats and did up my seatbelt. When the plane took off, I grabbed the side of the chair, still not used to the sensation of flying.

“Not a confident flyer?”
Mark asked from his seat across from me. He had opened up his laptop and I knew he was planning on getting a presentation he had to work on for next week finished.

I shook my head.
“No, I’m not used to it.”