Thief of Hearts
In Service To The Billionaire
by Isabel King
Desire: Billionaire property developer Devlin Kingsley is a man who’s used to getting everything he wants. As soon as he spots Bailey Harrison, the shy, beautiful housekeeper who’s scrubbing the floors of his new luxury hotel and trying her best to hide from the world, he wants nothing less than her complete surrender to his dominant desires. Now he’ll stop at nothing to claim her as his own.
Deception: Bailey Harrison isn’t what she seems, and if anyone knew the real reason she’d come to Paraiso, she’d be fired – or arrested. But Devlin’s got dark secrets of his own, secrets which put his and Bailey’s life at risk.
Danger: As Devlin swoops down on Bailey like a hawk snaring its prey, he draws her deep into his world of luxury…and lies. Can their love survive deception and betrayal – and can they survive the ghosts of Devlin’s past?
I had to punch in a special security code to go to the 20th floor, where the penthouse as located. There were other ways I could have gained access to that suite, but nobody at the hotel knew that. If they knew the truth about me, they’d never have hired me.
The elevator that took me to the penthouse opened into a living room out of my most decadent fantasies. The décor was done in themes of steel and stone, and there were wraparound floor to ceiling windows on two sides of the room, revealing a breathtaking view of the ocean. A pink and blue tropical sunset blazed across the skyline, like a gigantic living mural.
The flooring to the entryway was glossy granite, and I stopped there and kicked off my ugly shoes, leaving them next to my housekeeping cart. Then I entered the living room, and my feet sank ankle deep into the softest, fluffiest white carpet I’ve ever felt.
Just a quick tour, I promised myself. Then I’ll get right to work. After all, how many times would I have the opportunity to be in a room like this?
I walked through the massive living room, past the grand piano, under the gigantic twinkling chandelier, into the master bedroom, which featured wall to ceiling glass doors that led out to a huge balcony overlooking the ocean.
The bed was more than King-sized. Emperor sized? The frame was steel, and the bedding was silky and black, with piles of pillows, some in blue crushed velvet, some in blue silk.
On the nightstand lay a Rolex watch and a set of diamond and onyx cufflinks. I rolled my eyes. Rich people. They carelessly scattered around trinkets which cost enough to as much as the average person’s annual salary.
That wasn’t what interested me, though.
What drew my attention instead was the black leather bag sitting on top of the bed. It gapped open, and jutting out of it was…I walked over and looked inside.
It was a bag full of bondage paraphernalia. There were gleaming steel handcuffs, a riding crop, a paddle, a string of silvery ben wa balls, different styles and shapes of vibrators, bottles of lubricant…
I couldn’t help myself. I reached out and spread the bag open wide, peering inside, and as I did so, my nipples grew hard, and I felt dampness seeping between my legs. I’d always been fascinated by bondage, never quite trusted anyone enough to let them try it with me.
I lightly ran my fingers over the handle of the wooden paddle, and then stepped back, staring at the bag. I longed to open it wider and search through the contents, imagining how each implement would feel on my naked flesh, but I didn’t dare. And it wouldn’t be right. It would be a violation of privacy.
“See anything you like?” His voice cracked through the air like a whip. I spun around to face him.
Yes, him. Devlin Kingsley. This was his room.
And he’d just caught me going through his toy bag.
Devlin strode towards me purposefully, with a panther’s grace. I was frozen on the spot. I couldn’t have moved if my life depended on it.
He stood towering over me, and I tipped my head back up to look at him. His cologne was earthy and smelled like a pine forest. His eyes were so blue and endlessly deep that I imagined falling into them and drowning. I was close enough to see that they were flecked with black.
My heart thudded against my rib cage. I was terrified and more aroused than I’d ever been in my life.
“Going through my things? Naughty, naughty,” he breathed. “You’ll have to be punished. Turn around.”
“Wh-what?” I gasped.
“You heard me. Turn around. I won’t tell you again.”
I gaped up at him, in shock. Was I really hearing this?
“All right then,” he smiled coldly. He reached down, grabbed me by the shoulders, and firmly spun me around. The next thing I knew, he’d bent me over the bed, with my right arm twisted up behind my back.
Red hot desire shot through my body, and I felt my bones turn to liquid. I clutched at the silky comforter with my free hand. “Ohhhhh,” I moaned, as I felt his grip closing on my right arm like iron.
With his free hand, he lifted the hem of my skirt and tucked it into my waistband. Then he grabbed my pink cotton panties and yanked them down; they slid to my ankles.
He put one foot down between my legs, stepping firmly on my panties. “Step out of them,” he ordered.
Mesmerized, I did so, lifting out one foot and then the other. Now I was completely exposed to this man, who held me helpless in his grip.
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Thief of Hearts
by Isabel King
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Thief of Hearts
by Isabel King
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by on September 26, 2016
- Isabel King, August 2012
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