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Shared by the Billionaires by Emily Tilton

Following the death of her mother and the imprisonment of her father, eighteen-year-old Helen is saved from a life of poverty by wealthy investment banker Xavier Serteau, but his help comes at a high price. For the next three years, Helen will be Xavier’s property, and during that time he will be free to punish her as he sees fit and claim her beautiful body in any way he desires.

Over the weeks since she agreed to this arrangement, Helen has learned what it means to be dominated by a man who will not hesitate to strip her bare and spank her until she is sobbing if she dares to disobey him, but tonight will be different. Tonight she will be made to please five of her master’s friends before being brought home by one of them to be used hard and thoroughly.

After she is given to him for the night, it doesn’t take Helen long to realize that Eric Lindgren is a man to be reckoned with, but as she is made to surrender herself to the handsome billionaire’s stern, rigorous lovemaking she cannot help wondering what it would be like to belong to him permanently. When the time comes to return Helen to her owner, will Eric make an offer for her?

Publisher’s Note: Shared by the Billionaires includes harsh spankings and intense and humiliating sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

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Author: Emily Tilton

eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$3.95

Length: 41,000 words


Veau chuckled. ¨Well, at least you gave us a very good reason to spank her.” He turned to the waiter, who had stood by, watching lustfully, during the entire dessert course. ¨Would you please bring the paddle that’s hanging in the closet and give it to Mr. Klee over there?”

“Helen,” said Klee, once the long-bladed disciplinary implement with its stitched leather face had arrived in his hand. “Your friend the waiter will help you off the table now.”

“No,” Eric said, surprising himself with what felt like an outburst. “I’ll do that.” He looked over at the waiter, who for a moment wore a look of disappointment that almost made Eric pity the young man. Eric supposed he should feel bad for depriving the waiter of the chance to touch Helen again, especially since he intended not to allow the customary participation of the wait-staff in the gangbang at the end, but to take Helen straight to a hotel, hopefully alone. He didn’t, however, feel the sympathy he thought he should: the girl had taken hold of his mind and his heart so thoroughly that as he helped her gently from the table and led her over to Klee, he almost wanted to tell the other members of the club that he would pay them each a million dollars if they would end this meeting early and let Eric get on with the possession of Serteau’s girl for the remainder of the twenty-four hours stipulated in the club’s bylaws.

Klee had pushed his chair well back from the table, and spread his thighs in their dapper khaki suit pants into the position beloved by fathers punishing wayward daughters. He tapped the paddle on his left palm as Helen approached on hesitant feet. Eric tugged her forward very gently. Klee moved his left hand and patted his thigh. “Right here, young lady,” he said. “You were a very naughty girl to come just now, and you must pay the price.”

Eric wondered how frequently, if ever, Serteau disciplined his girl over his knee. The look of fear in Helen’s eyes made him think that perhaps despite the cane marks and what Serteau had said concerning his housekeeper’s strict disciplinary standards, an over-the-knee spanking held some sort of unaccustomed fear for Helen.

“Over Mr. Klee’s knee now, Helen,” he said in as gentle a voice as he could. “You know you need it.”

Such a wonderfully ambiguous thing to say: you know you need it. It could mean that Helen had actually been naughty to come, and must learn a lesson—when of course Eric had done everything he could to bring her to that wonderful climax. But it could also, and much more truly, mean that he wanted Helen to understand that Eric had a full comprehension of the mysteries of dominance and submission that most alpha males seemed unable to grasp.

Klee was about to spank the girl just because he liked to spank girls, and being a rich man and a member of this club, he would happily take the opportunity offered by Helen’s beautiful little bottom. Eric would spank Helen for much more complex reasons—though truth be told they had at their base the same liking for spanking girls. Atop that base, however, stood many tiers of desire—the craving to own a girl and to have her tell him she loved being owned; the yearning to find in a young woman’s heart the passions that complemented his own.

Helen made a little sound in her throat at Eric’s words that he thought might indicate that she felt it too—the thing that seemed to be happening between them—though it could also have been simple alarm at the sight of the black paddle and the waiting knee.

Klee decided the matter peremptorily, shifting the paddle to his left hand for a moment and then reaching out with his right arm to draw her the remaining half-step forward and to bend her over his thigh. Eric’s cock gave a little leap at the sight of the pretty backside upended, the little apples of her bottom creamy now but soon to be as red as befit the fruit they resembled held firmly in place when Klee closed his right thigh to keep her still for her punishment.

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