Surrender Boxed Set (Surrender Series Volume 1 - 7. BDSM romance with man love, bad boys, and billionaires.) Read online

  His fingers stopped stroking inside my cunt. “I thought this was a job to you? One you wanted to do well.”

  I tucked my breasts back inside my corset, tried to swallow the stupid tears that itched at the back of my throat. “I think I’d like the night off.”

  He growled as he withdrew from me and slid to the opposite side of the seat, far away. His knuckles sounded like a death knell as they rapped the glass shielding us from the driver.

  “Lewis,” he said. “Take Ms. Hanson home. We’re quite finished here.”

  After he unceremoniously dropped me off on the sidewalk in front my apartment, I allowed some tears to flow. He’d called me Ms. Hanson, and he’d never been so formal before. Not even during my first interview.

  I turned to find the doorman, Phillip, staring at me as I brushed dampness from my cheeks.

  “Ms. Hanson.” The name stung me, though he spoke it innocently. “Are you all right?” He came forward and offered an arm, leading me to the entrance.

  “I’ll be fine, Phillip.” I forced a smile for the kindly gentleman who wore a snow white, handlebar mustache. “Just as soon as I find another job.”

  ***

  The next week at work was filled with hesitant glances and curt words spoken. Dmitri didn’t call afterward, nor did I drive home with him. There was a cab waiting for me every day after work, but while the short trip home should’ve gone quickly, the silence and loneliness seemed to stretch the minutes into hours.

  “May I have our new patient’s file, please?” Dmitri avoided my eyes as he made the request.

  “Certainly.” I slid the manila folder to him without even looking from my computer screen.

  That’s when Mildred entered the office. She must’ve heard the tail end of our clipped exchange, for she stopped just in front of my desk and stood with hands on hips. “Okay, this has gone on long enough. What’s up with you two?”

  From my peripheral, I saw Dmitri give her an annoyed glare. “Ask Charlotte. I have a patient waiting.”

  I cast a scowl at his departing back.

  Mildred pulled a chair up to my desk just as his door closed. “Is this still about last weekend? His brother?”

  I faked a smile for her. She’d been nothing less than supportive since the incident. “Yes and no, I guess.” A truth had hit me like a rock to the stomach this morning, while I was getting ready for work, but I wasn’t sure if I could bring myself to tell Mildred just yet. Still, I knew I loved him. “We’ve been avoiding one another since that night. I … I don’t think my other services are required anymore.”

  My friend’s lips, painted a vivacious coral today, pressed into a thin line. “That damn man. He’s doing it again. Well, I won’t let him give up this time. What’re you doing tonight, sweetie?”

  I wondered what she meant by ‘doing it again.’ “Nothing, really. I was just going to watch some Dark Shadows reruns and eat chocolate.”

  She smiled at this. “Mind if I come over? I’ll bring brownies. I think you and I should’ve have a little talk about Dmitri.”

  ***

  Mildred arrived at eight o’clock with a pan of brownies and a bottle of Merlot. She grabbed a corkscrew while I cut the sweet square into thick, fluffy chocolate chunks. Then we curled up on the couch with our glasses of wine, plates, and the bottle resting on my coffee table, ready for refills.

  I still hadn’t grown accustomed to the immensity of my apartment. I had two extra bedrooms, and a cleaning service! I’d never had either in my life, and I’d transformed one of the bedrooms into an office, where I secretly pecked away at a romance novel I’d been writing since high school. The color scheme was creme walls with honey colored wainscoting that matched my living room furniture perfectly. A modern, white, open fireplace accented the front of the area, and hardwood floors shone throughout. You could fit half of my old place into my bedroom alone.

  “Nice set up.” Mildred nodded appreciatively, making the comment after she devoured another forkful of brownie. “So, when did you last see Dmitri? Other than work, I mean.”

  I put my slice of brownie on the coffee table, heaved a deep sigh, and said, “He hasn’t requested my services since last weekend.”

  “Requested your services?” Mildred laughed, but not in a cruel way. She sounded more incredulous. “Sweetie, you do realize that whole employing you as a sex mistress thing is a ruse, right?”

  I nearly choked on my mouthful of wine. “Ruse?”

  Wearing a kind smile, she nodded. “Dmitri…well, Dmitri still has trouble talking to women, particularly women he’s interested in. He used to give up or avoid pursuing a lady, his fear of rejection was so deep. I know, it might seem hard to believe. How can a billionaire lack confidence with females?” She shook her head slowly, and a sad expression came over her face. “A lot of his insecurities tie back to his brother, but those are stories Dmitri should tell you, not me. Let’s just say his childhood was painful at times, and he still feels like that awkward little boy deep inside. He doesn’t like people to see that side of him, so he plays parts, plays games, sometimes. The sex mistress proposition was just a way to get closer to you, be with you.”

  “Why didn’t he just ask me to a movie?” I asked naively, and felt a fool the moment the question left my lips.

  Mildred struggled not to smirk as she lowered the glass from her lips. “For Dmitri, it’s easier to dissect a damaged intellect than it is to woo a lady.” She laid a hand on mine and her blue eyes filled with compassion. “Oh, Charlotte…he loves you.”

  A sob bubbled up into my throat, but I successfully choked it down before I confessed, “I love him, too.”

  She refilled my wine glass then handed it to me before asking, “Did he tell you about Roxy?”

  Roxy? Astrid? My head swirled with the names of these unknown women. “No, no he didn’t.”

  As if sensing my apprehension, she patted my leg. “Don’t worry. Roxy’s been out of the picture for many years. They just went their separate ways, but she was a big influence on Dmitri. She helped him gain courage with women. Knowing about Roxy might help you understand why Dmitri approached you the way he did.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes.” Mildred filled our plates with a fresh brownie each before she continued. “She was a femdom, like me. She introduced Dmitri to the world of bdsm. Through sexual role playing, he could become someone else—someone confident, or submissive. He could distance himself from his fear of approaching the opposite sex. He becomes a skilled master, seducing his mistress. Roxy taught him how to pleasure women, how to tap the overt sexuality he hid deep inside, and when he found he was good at it, he gained control over his terror of being rejected. After Astrid, his fear returned, but I thought he had that beat when he started seeing you. Yuri showing up didn’t help.”

  My heart did a sick flip flop. “Who is Astrid?”

  Mildred cringed. “That’s another one you should get full details from Dmitri on, but I can tell you this: She was Dmitri’s first sex mistress. They fell in love, and they were going to marry, but…”

  “Yuri stole her away.” I finished her sentence.

  She nodded. “Yes, and it wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that to his brother.”

  We chatted about trivial things for another fifteen minutes, then Mildred cleared the coffee table of our dishes and said, “Tomorrow I’m going to have a little talk with Dmitri. Encourage him to get his ass over here and iron things out with you. Okay?”

  I went into her open arms for a big hug. “Thank you, Mildred. Thank you for everything.”

  ***

  Rain pelted the glass, and I sat in my bedroom window seat watching it pour down on a tiny gathering of people below. Colorful umbrellas moved beneath a lamppost, cutting a swathe of brightness through the inky night.

  The day had been another cool one for mid-July, but it matched my mood after another frigid day at the office. Mildred said she would be paying a visit to Dmitri tonight.
I wondered how that conversation had went, or was it still going on?

  I glanced at the bedside clock: just after midnight. I hated myself for watching the phone, hoping he’d call. Hated myself for feeling this way, for loving a man who supposedly loved me, even if it didn’t feel like he did. I felt too vulnerable, too out of control of my emotions. But no matter how much I despised the turmoil swirling inside me, I couldn’t shut those feelings off.

  We’d been friends as well as lovers. He’d said so himself, or had that been a lie? Did he really love me, or was Mildred just trying to be kind, wishful? Maybe they really were both playing a mental game with me. I sighed and slid from the cushion, trying to push the flurry of thoughts from my tired brain as I made my way to the kitchen for a cup of tea.

  Two steps past the couch, someone beat loudly on my front door. Security hadn’t buzzed to inform me of a visitor, and every guest had to be checked in. I froze in terror and held my breath, dashing to grab my cell phone and punch in a single digit that would connect me with the building’s guard unit.

  Then a voice stopped me. “Charlotte, it’s me. Can I come in?”

  Dmitri. His words sounded slurred and husky. Had he been drinking? I rushed to the front door and unfastened the locks. When I opened up, I found him looming over me, braced on the doorjamb with both hands. His long, straight black hair fell around his shoulders in a tangled fury. He wore an open olive gray trench coat, sweat pants that left little to the imagination, and a rumpled green t-shirt. His bloodshot emerald eyes told me he had definitely had his fair share of liquor. There was a hint of ruddiness to his smooth, golden skin.

  “We need to talk,” he said, swaying as he pushed by me to enter the apartment.

  “Has Mildred been to see you?”

  He flopped down on the couch before he could fall down. “Yes. That’s why I’m here.”

  He appeared angry, sullen, and I wondered if Mildred had been incorrect. If she’d told him I loved him, and now he’d come here to sever ties and set me straight about my foolish, romantic notion that he might love me back.

  I dared a step closer. “Have you come to fire me then?”

  His head snapped around and he frowned at me. “No, of course not.” He seemed to look at me in disbelief over my question. “Come sit, please?” He patted the couch beside him, and I approached.

  His large arm wrapped around me and all was right in the world. The stench of whiskey wafted off his breath, but I didn’t mind. I snuggled tight against his side and waited a moment before breaking the silence.

  But he broke it first. “I’ve come to tell you about my brother, about Astrid. You deserve that, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the other night.”

  I touched his soft, full lips. Gazed up at him. “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” Leaning forward, he kissed my forehead, and his silky tendrils of hair tickled my face.

  I took his hand, moved back so I could see him better. “Please, tell me everything. Everything you’re comfortable with.”

  He rubbed my arm through my pajama sleeve. “I will.” Then his expression clouded in deep thought, and tiny wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes as he struggled for the right words to begin. “My brother, Yuri… He has Narcissistic Personality Disorder. At first, he was a big part of the reason I went into psychiatry. I wanted to know what made people like him tick. As a child, he tormented me. You see, people with NPD have a sense of superiority. They often disregard the pain of others, lack empathy.”

  “What did he do to you?” I blurted, feeling insensitive after the question left my lips, and Dmitri’s face tightened from memories that obviously hurt. “If you don’t mind me asking. Sorry, I shouldn’t prod painful areas.”

  “No.” He sighed, squeezed me close to him. “It’s fine.” He paused, and the muscles in his jaw clenched. “I was an overweight kid, until I hit puberty and shot up eight inches over one spring and summer. Before my growth spurt, mom used to call me her ‘apple cheeked cutie.’ I hated that.” He chuckled. “Yuri worked away at my self esteem. It resulted in an intense fear of rejection I still carry. He invented new ways, constantly, to bully me and remind me daily I’d never be loved by anyone other than our parents. I was fat, worthless, stupid, ugly—oh, and that’s just the mild stuff. Once I towered over him, the bullying stopped. It took a few fights, but after I broke his nose he backed off.”

  “So you have a habit of doing that?” I couldn’t help but quip.

  He flashed me a surprised glance and laughed. “I’ll try to keep that side of me under wraps.”

  I shook my head, smoothed hair from his face. “No, don’t hide who you are, please. Share it with me.”

  He drew my fingers to his lips and kissed them. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For accepting me as I am.” He looked weary, tired. “For being my friend. You don’t know the shy, timid boy I was, but he’s still in here.” He tapped his chest. “And he and I are both grateful for you.”

  I took him in my arms then, hugged him close and stroked his broad back. “I’m grateful for you, too.” Then, in his ear, I whispered, “Would now be a bad time to ask about Astrid?”

  He hugged me tighter then drew back. “I thought she was the love of my life.” He gave a bitter scoff then. “Turned out I didn’t know her so well at all. Yuri said she was just using me for the money. I told him he was wrong. He dared me to prove it by getting her to sign a pre-nup.”

  He trailed off into silence, and I let the curiosity gnaw at me awhile before I asked, “What happened?”

  When he looked up again, I swore those brilliant green irises shone with unshed tears, but the light in the room was too muted to be sure. “Yuri went behind my back and told her about the pre-nup. Said I didn’t trust her, and encouraged her not to sign. He planned the whole thing with the sole intent to steal her love away. I didn’t find out until after he and Astrid moved in together.”

  I felt like someone had sucker punched me right in the heart. How could Yuri do such a thing to his own brother? Yes, he had NPD, and I knew that people with the disorder did lack empathy, but how could he willfully hurt someone time and time again. Now I could understand why Dmitri struggled to forgive and forget.

  I touched his face, stroked my fingers down his cheek. “Thank you for telling me, for confiding in me.”

  The look he gave me showed a glimpse of the timid boy still inside him. “You share secrets with the people you love, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I said, my heart bursting with joy and my eyes filling with tears. “Yes you do.”

  I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. Grabbing his face, I pulled his lips to mine for a deep, hungry kiss. I had missed his touch so much over this last week, but I hadn’t wanted to admit the longing to myself. Our tongues dueled, and I sighed against his velvety lips, as I pushed him down on the couch cushions.

  “Stay here tonight,” I murmured into our kiss.

  “Are you taking control then, Mistress?” he whispered against my mouth.

  “Yes,” I breathed, before I feathered kisses across his jaw.

  “I look forward to enjoying your dominant side,” he purred, before I plunged my tongue into his ear. Then he quickly called downstairs to Lewis, his driver, to give him the remainder of the evening off.

  He flung his trench coat to the floor and I tore his t-shirt off. Then I traced the ridge of his collar bone with my fingers, stroked the curve of his pecs. He tried to pull my pajama shirt from me, but I stopped him, wagging a finger in his face as I said, “Nuh-uh, not until I say. Now you’re my submissive, remember?”

  He smirked and tried to look demure. “Yes, of course, Mistress.”

  My palms molded to the plane of his stomach, enjoying the way his muscles tensed as my fingers moved lower. His stomach was flat, but it wasn’t washboard taut, and I was glad of that. I didn’t care for the overly carved abs look, which, to me, made it appear as if a person’s inner muscles ooze
d out of their skin. Dmitri was in shape, but not obsessive.

  I yanked his sweats off, urging him to hike his hips ups so I could slip the pants off his butt. He wore no briefs beneath, and his hardening cock grew stiffer as I exposed it. It’s impressive length slapped against the bottom of his belly before I curled my hand around the base.

  “How would you like your mistress to pleasure you?” I watched his face as I stroked the silky skin that sheathed rigid muscle.

  “Do whatever you want,” he groaned. “I’m your submissive tonight.”

  I dipped my head, flicking my tongue over one of his tiny nipples before I said, “Anything I want?”

  “Anything,” he growled as I bit the pebble-like tip hard.

  I wanted to tease him until he begged me to suck his cock. I wanted to taste and lick every inch of his honey golden skin. First, I lingered at his nipples, flicking my tongue over them while I took my hand from his erection. I tickled his scrotum with a light touch, used my knee to caress his stiff shaft, but I denied him my tight grip or mouth still.

  My mouth moved down his torso, and I inhaled the sweet, spicy scent of his cologne mixed with his own personal smell. A signature scent I’d come to love, and after he rose from bed, when I spent nights at his home, I’d press my nose to his pillow and inhale this scent, plus the clean, citrus fragrance of his hair. His skin tasted like spun sugar, but as beads of sweat broke out on his flesh, it took on a salty tang also.

  I flit my tongue across the bottom of his stomach in tiny licks, until he growled out, “Please, suck my cock, Mistress.”

  Then I stopped and straddled him, putting my hands on either side of his shoulders. “Don’t speak, don’t come, until I tell you to.”

  “But Mistress—”

  I pressed a finger to his lips, ceasing his protests, but he continued to thrash and growl as I once more licked, sucked, and bit my way back to his groin. He buried fingers into my hair, but I removed these, scolding him once more. “I suppose I’ll have to restraint you, naughty sub.” I left him long enough to grab the belt from his trench coat, then I told him to, “Sit up, and put your hands behind your back.”