Tied to the Billionaire(20)

“Look inside yourself, Elena. Wouldn’t it feel good to submit to me? Don’t you want to let go? Just think how freeing it would be. I can teach you, if you’ll let me.”

Elena shook her head and put more distance between them. “I need to think about this.” She turned to leave and said over her shoulder, “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

Charles couldn’t keep in the chuckle that bubbled up in his chest. “Now that’s one hell of an invitation.”

Elena spun on her heel and stared at Charles, her eyes wide. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know what you meant,” he interjected, unable to keep the grin from his face. “Couldn’t resist. Take your time to think about my proposal and think long and hard. I’d treat you right, I’d treasure you. Think about it.”

Charles’ words seemed to have a calming effect. Elena’s shoulders relaxed and she let out the breath she must have been holding.

Her mouth curved into a genuine smile. “Thank you,” she said. “I think that’s just what I needed to hear.”

Charles returned her smile. “Be down here at six. I’m taking you to dinner on the Croisette.”

Charles could practically see the inner debate raging inside Elena. He realised his words must have seemed contradictory, but just because he thought she should take her time to decide on embarking on a relationship with him didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do his damnedest to try to persuade her how good they could be together. Finally, she straightened her shoulders and nodded. “Guess I’ll see you at six.”

“Oh and, Elena? Wear something sexy for me. Don’t even think about covering up those beautiful legs of yours.”

His request was met with a look of incredulity, but Elena said nothing further before marching to her room. Charles would bet his last billion that she would adhere to it. She was going to look sexy all right, but how in the hell was that going to help him? He already had a hard enough time keeping his hands to himself whenever he was within touching distance of her. If she had those gorgeous pins on display, his hands were going to be all over her, stroking up her smooth thighs, inching higher until he reached the ultimate prize.

Now there was an idea. Charles smiled to himself as he went to make a call. It was certainly going to be an interesting dinner, but food was the last thing on his mind. Tonight was going to be a good test of how well Elena could take a command, how easily she could submit to him. He suspected she was going to love every goddamn minute of it.



Chapter Four





When Elena walked through the hall a few hours later, she knew she looked good. Damned good. Her silky blonde hair hung loose over her shoulders and the sexy, black Vivienne Westwood dress sat just above her knees, clinging luxuriously to her every curve. When she’d been deciding what to wear, she’d sworn to herself that she wasn’t choosing the slinky dress to please Charles, but that had been a lie. She’d wanted to look good for him, had wanted to make him happy, even though she couldn’t understand where the need originated or why she was suddenly so comfortable with it. What had changed?

Elena had never done things to please others before, especially not men. Since her parents had died, with no brothers or sisters or anyone she was close to other than her uncle Henry, she’d looked out for number one. The burning desire to give Charles what he wanted—to satisfy him and to please him—was a revelation. She recognised it might be partly because Charles hadn’t demanded anything. He’d made his intentions clear, but he hadn’t been forceful. He’d put the decision in her hands. He’d essentially handed her all the power and that had been unexpected. Elena didn’t know a great deal about Dom/sub relationships, but she hadn’t expected Charles to be so thoughtful or understanding of her needs. She’d wrongly assumed he was selfish and that it would all be about what he wanted.

When she met Charles at the front door, Elena knew she had made the right choice about her outfit. Charles looked immaculate. He was wearing a dark grey suit, with a lighter-hued shirt and matching tie. But it was impossible to pay too much attention to the way he was dressed when she saw the heat in his eyes as he took in every inch of her body. It caused a deep pull in her stomach and a glorious sense of satisfaction. His low growl sealed the deal. Clearly he approved of her attire. Elena gasped as he pulled her to him, his body tight and hard against her own. He slid his fingers into her hair as he tilted her head and trailed passionate kisses along her throat.

“You look ravishing,” he rasped. He took her earlobe into his mouth and nibbled it before trailing his tongue over the sensitive juncture below.

Elena’s senses came alive as though awoken abruptly from a deep slumber. The feel of his hard body pressed against hers, the low, gravelly tone to his voice and the wet glide of his tongue sent her into orbit. And that was without the heady scent of his aftershave lotion—a rich woodsy odour with leathery undertones—the perfect aphrodisiac. Elena was practically panting. She was tempted to tell Charles to forget the dinner and head straight to the bedroom, but all too soon, he pulled away with a satisfied smirk.

“Come, or we’ll be late for our reservation.” Much to Elena’s disappointment, Charles took hold of her hand and led her outside to the waiting limo.

The tension between them sizzled on the ride down to the Promenade de la Croisette. Though she could barely lift her eyes to look at him, Elena sensed that Charles was watching her for the entire journey. She’d never been more grateful for the tinted windows so that he couldn’t see her blush. Just what was it about this man that made Elena revert to a fifteen-year-old with her first crush? When she finally chanced a look at him her arousal ratcheted up a notch and she was powerless to look away. Charles’ long legs were stretched out in front of him—lean and powerful. Elena had no doubt they would be corded with muscle, just like the rest of him. Wide shoulders led down to a broad chest and tight, flat stomach. But when she looked down his long arms, the fingers of his right hand were tapping a hasty beat against his leg. His left hand, the hand closest to Elena was clenched into a tight fist, his knuckles white from the pressure.