The Billionaire's Desires: A Billionaire BDSM Romance (Mercury Billionaires Book 4) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Free Book Giveaway

  Bonus Story Section

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  The

  Billionaire’s

  Desires

  A Billionaire BDSM Romance

  Mercury Billionaires Book 4

  The Billionaire’s Desires

  by Nicole Casey

  Copyright © 2017. All Rights Reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronically, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the proper written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

  Free Book Giveaway

  As my way of saying thank you for reading my book, I’d like to give you a free copy of my short story – Bahamas Daddy.

  Sasha was at the bottom rung of life: she was jobless, out of cash and wasted her first week at the Bahamas hanging out at the lousiest joints in town. This night, however, she was willing to take the risk and spend the last of her cash to find love or at least some fun at one of the busiest nightclubs at the opposite end of town. Little did she know she was in for the encounter of her life.

  Richard was a billionaire suffering from years of melancholy. His ex-wife was a constant problem and despite all his attempts of living the high life and partying like there was no tomorrow, he just didn’t feel happy. That is until he saw her walk into the club and he knew that this woman might change everything.

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  Also by Nicole Casey

  Mercury Billionaires Series

  Book 1: The Billionaire’s Conquest

  Book 2: The Billionaire’s Bid

  Book 3: The Billionaire’s Proposal

  CONTENTS

  The Billionaire's Desires

  Prologue: Marcus

  1. Natasha

  2. Marcus

  3. Natasha

  4. Marcus

  5. Natasha

  6. Marcus

  7. Natasha

  8. Marcus

  9. Natasha

  10. Marcus

  11. Natasha

  12. Marcus

  13. Natasha

  14. Marcus

  15. Natasha

  16. Marcus

  17. Natasha

  18. Marcus

  19. Natasha

  20. Marcus

  21. Natasha

  Bonus Story Section

  Dr. Sanchez – A Billionaire Doctor Boss Romance

  Trapped With My Boss

  Author’s Note

  Prologue

  Marcus

  N ow she’s broken. I stared at the young girl in front of me, laid out on the bed naked save for the warm blanket over her. A residue of a once warm smile filled her lips and she simply gazed back at me with the blankest stare in her eyes. The blue shine that once glowed in them had long faded. It was like staring into a soulless puppet.

  The longer I looked at her the more I came to realize how far gone she was. Once upon a time she was beautiful, she was strong and she always had an opinion regarding things in the world. It wasn’t so long ago that she would prance around with her chin held high, proudly proclaiming her love for her career.

  She was a doctor, once, but now she was nothing more than a slab of meat, a toy for me to abuse. All the strength, confidence and will had drained out of her very being. Her spirit and energy had slipped away into nothingness. Like a mannequin she merely laid there, not even blinking or mumbling a single word.

  “What a pity,” I then grumbled when I stroked her pretty face. I sighed in pity and regret as I commanded, “Do not move until I leave. I don’t want to hear a single word from you either. You’re a worthless slut and a slave. Understood?”

  “Yes daddy,” was all she whispered and she quickly went back to being the silent, lifeless toy once more.

  I gave her a pat on the cheek and rewarded her obedience with a gentle kiss on her lifeless lips. I looked at them closer and recalled how they had gasped when I beat her and flogged her in the dungeons below. Never did she moan or cry out in pain or pleasure. She took it silently and loved the moment.

  Perhaps I had broken her too soon. It was something for me to ponder about when I had the time and right now I had to go. Immediately I picked up my clothes to get dressed. After I slid my pants back on I checked my watch – it was still eight-thirty in the morning. I still had time for a donut and some coffee before it was time to go to work.

  By the time I had put on my business coat the woman was beginning to drift off. Her eyes were now closed and I could see her chest rise and fall as her breathing calmed down. I had been rough on her this morning but it was what she deserved – no, it was what she lived for. Pleasing me was her sole purpose in life.

  There was just one problem with this obedient little kitten that did everything I asked: she was boring. Where the once a fire burning in her there was now just a dark and empty void. She was breathing but she was essentially a lifeless doll.

  I would have to get rid of her.

  The only problem with that decision was I’d be left without a toy to fuck. I gave her one more look, reminiscing all the moments we had together since I met her and dragged her down into this crazy corner of lust, and realized I’d only hurt her the more I’d get bored with her performance.

  No, I couldn’t harm her more than she could handle. I had broken her will already, that much was obvious, and the best I could do was to turn her over to someone who appreciated broken girls like her. Maybe someone at Mercury Wild would want her.

  I took a moment to reflect upon myself in the mirror. Even as I neared forty, I figured I was still a dashing man with good looks; women always prattled on about my blonde hair and the glow of my blue eyes. Even if they were just toying with my emotions, I at least knew for a fact that I was tall, lean and muscular. I didn’t hit the gym three times a week for nothing, after all.

  When I was done and had my shoes on, I turned off the lights and gave her one last look. She was still in her original position, obeying my every command. Without saying farewell or even uttering her name, I turned off the lights, walked out the door and locked it behind me.

  That was the last time I ever visited her apartment.

  Her name had faded out of memory.

  Never looking back, I descended down the apartment stairs and walked out into the parking lot. There were half a dozen cars parked in the neighborhood, most of them nearly broken down and unused by the families that owned them. It took me no time at all to spot my bright red sports car.

  I checked my watch one more time. There was still time to kill. I then started the car and drove off.

  1

  Natasha

  “Do you have a toothbrush packed?” my mom called from the downstairs kitchen.

  I rolled my eyes and shouted back, hoping my voice would be heard through the nearly-shut doorway, “I do, mom! I told you like a thousand times already!”

  “I was just checking,�
�� she nonchalantly called back and I heard some kitchen utensils clanging; she must have gone back to baking.

  To be honest, it was a little nice to see my mom being so cheerful. With each item and clothing that I packed into my little luggage I knew I was making it hard for her. I was her little girl and here I was, just turned twenty-one and already leaving for the big city.

  Perhaps it would be best if I headed back downstairs and spent some time with her. Who knew when I’d be home? It could be months or years before I ever get to visit. I quickly stopped packing and headed down.

  My mom was indeed in the middle of baking but I had no clue on what she was trying to conjure up. The kitchen was a mess and her apron was covered in powdered sugar and flour.

  Still, she was adorable-looking. Even at thirty-eight my mom was still a hottie; slim, sexy and had long blonde hair. People say we look the same, down to the blue glint in our eyes and the curves of our bodies that made men drool whenever we passed by. I recalled a time when we both walked into a bar and a guy asked if she was my sister. It was hilarious and sweet at the same time.

  “What are you makin’ mom?” I asked her as I slid on one of the high stools.

  She turned around and saw what I was wearing, “Do you really plan on going to the city wearing a shirt big enough to be a dress?”

  Well, I did have a big football jersey on and a pair of baggy cargo jeans. I looked at her and asked, “What’s wrong with what I’ve got on?”

  “It screams ‘countryside’ all over it,” she answered as she shut the oven off, removed her apron and shooed me off my seat. She then began to push me back up to my bedroom. “Come on, you need to put on something that’ll make you stand out.”

  Just what I needed: fashion advice from my mom.

  As soon as we got into my room she dug through the clothes that I had yet to pack and eventually came up with something for me to wear. However, one of them didn’t seem quite right for her and she took a pair of scissors from the top of my drawers and cut up something with her back turned to me. When she was done she quickly shoved a few things at me and looked at me with impatient eyes.

  “Uh, mom?” I didn’t know what she was waiting for. She just stood in front of me silently.

  “Go on, change,” she ushered with a hand. “Don’t be shy, I’ve seen you naked honey. I’m your mom, after all.”

  I rolled my eyes and realized how silly I was. I blushed back at her but even then I took off my shirt. I didn’t even get to put on the pink tank top my mom gave me when she suddenly stopped me. I looked at her and she had a disappointing look on her face.

  She didn’t say a word and just motioned for me to turn around. I did so and to my surprise she took off my bra.

  “Mom?” I gasped out.

  “Your have nice breasts honey,” she pointed out as she turned me to face her. “A bra will be ridiculous. Besides, you need to learn to flaunt your assets, sweetie. You’re already old enough to drink but you’ve never brought a boyfriend over to house.”

  “I’ve never had one,” I reminded her.

  She hummed in disappointment, “I know. So put yourself out there. Show off a little. Now, let’s work on the jeans.”

  I slid on the tank top and took off my jeans. I tossed them to the side. It kind of hurt me to see them thrown down – they’ve been my favorite since I was sixteen – but I guess my mom was right. I did have a nice body but I always hid it underneath big, baggy clothes.

  My eyes went wide when I saw the cloth she had cut and chopped with the scissors. It was one of my old denim shorts. When I put them on they were so short they could have been panties. I felt a little awkward and when I took a step I worried I’d get a wedgie. I turned to look at my butt just to make sure my ass cheeks were covered.

  This whole outfit was so freaking revealing.

  “I look like I belong in a ‘Dukes of Hazard’ episode,” I told my mom. “I can’t possibly go to the city like this.”

  She smiled and suddenly gave my ass a slap, “Sure you can. Trust me, no matter what kind of business you want to open in the city you’re bound to succeed. You’ve got bigger brains than my tits combined, sweetheart. But you also got to be confident. This will help you, trust me.”

  I looked at myself in the mirror. She was right though; I did look really pretty. The shorts made my long legs stand out and both my hair and big breasts were noticeable with the tiny top. Maybe if I had the confidence – and the height – I could be a model.

  “Okay,” I sighed and caved in. “I’ll keep this on only if you let me have one of those cookies you’re making downstairs.”

  My mom giggled and relented. She took me by the arm and we headed down to have ourselves a quick little snack.

  It was just an hour later that I had to bid her farewell.

  By sunset I was on a bus and on my way to the big city. Seated there, all I could think about during the ride was how all my dreams were about to come true.

  2

  Marcus

  I looked at the calendar on my laptop. I groaned when I saw it was still Wednesday. Most people hate Mondays because it was the start of the workweek. I hated Wednesdays the most because it was smack-dab in the middle of the week. I was already exhausted but there were still two more days before I could sit back and relax.

  Ring!

  Lazily I picked up the landline phone on my office desk and greeted, “Good afternoon, thank you for calling Phoenix Banking. My name is Marcus Phoenix, how may I help you?”

  As I expected, it was another wannabe businessman hoping I could help him secure a loan and start up his dream. Unfortunately, his business of “automated pick-up lines via text messages” didn’t sound viable enough for me to sign on. I had to politely decline but I did refer him to a colleague of mine who did take on such bizarre clients.

  When I put the phone back down I looked at my laptop real quick. There weren’t any new emails coming in and my pile of work for the day was long done. I take pride in being a quick worker but that did leave me with one issue: now I had nothing to do.

  I picked up the phone again and dialed for an internal number. My secretary, Felicia, instantly picked up and greeted me with her usual dry tone.

  “Sir?”

  “I’m going to call it a day. Could you stay around for at least another hour and then go ahead and close down the office?” I told her and then put the phone back down. I gathered my important papers and neatly slid them into a folder before I got up, put on my coat and walked out of my office.

  Felicia was by her desk, typing away – probably fixing my schedule for next week or inputting the data about our recent clients into our database. I simply gave her desk a tap and then nodded farewell at her before I walked out of the waiting area and out into the parking lot.

  The cold wind blasted my face as soon as I stepped out and I couldn’t help but sigh in relief. My office wasn’t small by any means – it was probably the biggest banking office owned and run by a single man in this entire city, to be honest – but it still felt claustrophobic at times. Maybe it was time I hired a few rookie bankers to work under me so I could take some time off. It’d be nice to be a real “boss” man for a change.

  I hopped into my car and drove off. I wandered around aimlessly for a few minutes as I tried to enjoy the freedom I had of working for no one but myself. I even plugged in my smartphone to the dashboard and played some classic rock to really set the mood.

  After a few minutes, I realized I was a little thirsty. Without even thinking, I took the next exit off the main highway and drove off to the city outskirts, which was where my favorite bar and restaurant was. There was no better place to get hammered than Mercury Wild.

  I sped through the traffic, weaving in and out so I could get there quickly. Even then, the congestion was thick and it was nearly six o’clock by the time I got there. The sun was going down and by now there might already be too many people in the bar for me to have a moment all to myself.
r />   The parking lot was slightly filled but not as bad as I thought it would be. That got me to sigh in relief. I parked close to the entrance and then walked in.

  Immediately, I was greeted by the familiar dim lights, the sound of a live band playing in the center and the sight of numerous gorgeous girls going around having drinks and dancing to the music. A lot of the tables were already filled but I fortunately found a corner where I could sit.

  That corner was already occupied but it was my friend Daxter. He was a former firefighter turned model. He just recently quit that life, however, when his elder brother died and he became the sole heir to the family business. He and his wife, Noelle, launched a fashion company that quickly took the world by storm.

  “Hey,” I greeted them both with a smile as I sat down at their table.

  “You look tired,” Noelle greeted. She slid me an extra bottle of beer.

  I took it without second thought and gulped down. “Yeah,” I admitted. “Well, ‘bored’ is the better word, I guess.”

  “You know why you’re bored?” Daxter asked. He then answered his own question, “It’s because you’re a billionaire working in a tiny-ass office. Dude, you can afford hiring a dozen staff members to do all your work for you.”

  I rolled my eyes and tried to explain, “Yeah, sure, but there’s no guarantee my employees would be as good as I am. I want to maintain a level of quality and the more I hire the less likely I’ll have quality control.”

  Noelle wagged a finger, “No one is going to be as good as you are. You’re the best banker there is. You helped us when we thought our fashion business was so extravagant no one would invest in it. You proved us wrong. You got us investors. You got us a big loan.”

  Maybe they were right.