By Her Command (Billionaire Erotica)

By Vivian Leigh

The Self Made Woman
No man really loves a rich woman; he loves the money. Fiona Rogers knows that every relationship she finds will fall apart once the man discovers how much she’s worth. They’ll be sweeter, nicer, do little things they think will butter her up. It’s all crap and she hates it.
What Fiona Rogers wants is a man that can stand on his own two feet, a man that won’t be intimidated by a woman of means. What she wants is a man like Lincoln Waters. She just doesn’t know it yet.

The Charming Con Man
Lincoln knows Fiona. He knows everything a man can know from the outside, everything a man needs to run a long con. And he knows the Yakuza are behind this job. What he doesn’t know is just how incredible Fiona really is.

Lincoln gets in deep, but will he follow his heart, or put a price on his head that love can’t pay?

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This 3500 word short story is for adults only. It contains a passionate, graphic sexual encounter.

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Author's note: With the recent rash of billionaire stories featuring submissive women being dominated by men that are generally assholes, I wanted to tell a story where the woman is in control and looking for a relationship with someone that can be her equal. I hope you enjoy it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vivian Leigh
• Release date: Aug 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476378671

Vivian Leigh

Vivian Leigh is a mild mannered CPA by day and a raunchy smut slinger by night. She enjoys chocolate ice cream, pretty sunsets, gang bangs and chianti.

Book preview

By Her Command

By

Vivian Leigh

Copyright 2012 Vivian Leigh

All rights reserved

Smashwords Edition

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The sidewalks in LA had the same cracks and disjointed planes of sidewalks in every big city. They had the same weeds growing from those cracks, and the same homeless folks squatting with upturned hats. What the other cities didn’t have were the palm trees. The palm trees that grew up anywhere dirt and sunlight met, heedless of pedestrians.

Fiona dodged the sprouting palm tree outside her office and approached the revolving door. Good morning, Buddy, she said to the guard at the desk.

Miss Rogers. He acknowledged her with a nod. He buzzed her through the security gate.

The express elevator opened for her as she approached, and whisked her up to the fortieth floor. The Yankees had The House That Ruth Built. She had The Firm That Fiona Built. It wasn’t etched over her office door, but Maude, her personal secretary, kept threatening to call an engraver.

What’s on the schedule? she asked as her assistant matched her stride.

"You have a call with Japan at 8:30, a call with Switzerland and 10:00 and lunch with a