Bartered Submission: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 5 (A BDSM Erotic Romance) by Ava Lore

Author:Ava Lore
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: the billionaires wife, bartered, ava lore, submission, leash, sex, billionaire bdsm, domination, bdsm romance, bdsm, billionaire romance, collar
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Good, I thought. Very smooth, Felicia. That won't tip him off that you know about his basement full of severed limbs at all.

“I'm sorry?” he said.

Well, I might as well go whole hog. I waved my arms, indicating his house. “What's with this place?” I said. “Where are all the pictures? Where are the... I don't know, the overdue library books and the stray receipts from the grocery store and the junk drawer with little bits of lint and a pair of broken scissors in it? Do you even live here?”

To my relief, Anton didn't look angry that I'd been snooping around—although I suppose, technically, he had invited me to do so by telling me to make myself at home. Instead he looked amused. “Well,” he said. “I suppose I live at the office more than I do here.” He glanced around himself as though taking in his own house for the first time. “Perhaps it is a bit spare on the personal touches.”

I blinked. I hadn't expected him to say that. “And the baby pictures?” I said.

“Who keeps baby pictures of themselves around?” he asked me.

I stomped my foot. “You know what I mean,” I said. “Where are pictures of your family? And friends? You have family and friends, right?”

For a long moment he regarded me intently. “I see,” he said at last. “We're at this portion of the program now, are we?”

I stiffened. “What do you mean?”

He stood very still. “You said you wanted to know more about me. That's fair enough. Unlike you, I don't have a blog that you can check.” I knew I should have deleted that thing. “But I want things from you in return.”

Licking my lips, I forced myself to look him in the eye. “I never thought it would be otherwise.”

He glanced at the door behind me. “Have you been trying to get into the basement?” he wondered.

“I thought you might have a sex dungeon down there.”

That caught him off guard, and he laughed. I noticed that when he laughed, he always looked shocked, as though I had somehow inspired something foreign and strange in him. Visibly choking it down, he shook his head. “No,” he said. “No, there's no sex dungeon here.”

I noted that he didn't say there wasn't a sex dungeon at all, but I let that lie for now. “So what's down there?”

He shook his head. “Nothing of import.” Stepping forward, he put his hands on my arms, wrapping them in the warmth of his palms. A shiver raced across my skin at the contact.

“Perhaps,” he said, “you would like a glass of wine? And we can talk?”

Yes, I thought. God, yes. Anything to take the edge off. But out loud all I could do was say, “That sounds great.”

He gestured toward the kitchen. I slipped past him and the heat radiating from his body made my mouth go dry. He was like an overclocked machine. A sex machine.

Man, I should have been a poet.

In the kitchen, Anton opened the refrigerator and withdrew a bottle of white wine.

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