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In His Hands (The Billionaire Loves Big Girls, Book #3)

29 pages28 minutes


After a chance meeting with the powerful Paolo Contini, gorgeous red-haired interior designer Alanna has to admit to herself that she is smitten with the commanding hotel tycoon. But when he sends her a mysterious package ahead of their date, she begins to wonder if she truly has what it takes to train as his submissive. Will Alanna hold her nerve and learn to please her Master?

This is the third installment of the Billionaire Loves Big Girls series

Warning: This 7,000-word story contains one sassy, confident interior designer, one smoking hot billionaire and some extremely graphic sexual scenes. Not suitable for readers under 18.


My heart pounding, I got to my feet with difficulty and meekly walked behind him. The slight motion of the boat as it bobbed on the water, stirred slightly by the evening breeze, was soothing. I sipped more champagne, feeling it go straight to my head. I felt reckless.

He led me into an opulent bedroom, paneled with rosewood. The centerpiece was a large, luxurious bed that was piled high with blankets and pillows in muted shades of mulberry and heather. There were posts at each corner, but no canopy over the top, as though the posts were there for something entirely different. That was when I noticed the restraints that dangled from them: supple ties made of the softest black leather, just like the ones on my sandals.

I stiffened as I noticed them, and Paolo noticed my nerves.

"What have I told you, sweet girl? Part of your training is learning to trust me. I thought you had learned that by now. Do you trust me?"
"Yes, Master."

That was only a half-truth. Although he had tied me with wrist restraints before, the idea of being immobilized like this, surrendering myself to him so totally, half-terrified me. But it intrigued me, too.

He sat me on the edge of the bed and regarded me with an impenetrable expression for a moment or two, as though he were assessing the value of a precious vase, or calculating the worth of a classic car.

Then he sank to his knees in front of me and took my left foot in his hands. He caressed my ankle, slowly unbinding the leather ties that criss-crossed my pale skin.

"Alanna, you have such beautiful feet. More beautiful than any woman I have ever seen. Do you like my gifts to you? The dress, the shoes?"

"I love them, Master," I answered truthfully.

"And my other gift? The object that you had to get down on all fours to push inside you until you finally yielded?"

I was blushing. How could he possibly know that.

"That, too, Master."

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