The Suit and His Switch Claim Their Sub Read Online Free PDF

His reaction
to her didn’t surprise him, not when he had felt just as strongly when he first
met Stellan all those years ago. Dietrich relied on his gut and instincts to
make multi-million dollar purchases. Those instincts never failed him, not with
Stellan and certainly not with Blythe. He would teach her how to let go, to
feel free and hand herself over to him with the trust he needed. Dietrich
wouldn’t let her down. In fact, he would help her realize that she could be
free if only she relinquished herself to him. She didn’t need to be burdened
when he and Stellan could help her feel only pleasure, emotional and physical.
He knew his lover as well as he knew himself, and if he had this strong of a
reaction to Blythe then there was no question so would his sub.
    Instead
of continuing on with a subject that clearly upset her, he simply said, “Rest
up, Miss Winters.” She nodded and let herself close her eyes. Maybe she
realized how easy it was to obey? She certainly did it so well. He could see
plainly that she was burdened with her emotions, but he would soon show her
there was no need to carry them alone.
    ****
    The
plane landed a little after five a.m. local time, just as Walter said, and now
they were headed toward Mr. Moore’s villa. The car that had been waiting for
them was a sleek Mercedes. Blythe had only been to a few states, so flying
across the ocean to another country was wondrous for her. Everything seemed so
grand and wonderful, even with her jetlag weighing her down. She had woken up a
few times during the night to see Mr. Moore typing away on his laptop, but he
had been far too engrossed in what he was doing to notice her. He named off
stunning buildings they passed on their drive to his home: Estátua de Dom Pedro IV, Santa Engrá cia ,
and her favorite thus far, the Mosteiro dos Jerónimos . She wondered if he purposefully took the scenic
route because they were spread out pretty well and it seemed a bit out of the
way, but she wasn’t complaining because it was a spectacular sight.
    The Mosteiro dos Jerónimos , a
church, had sat beautifully alone, with its pointed tips and stunning
architecture. Maybe she would have time to sightsee a bit, to walk within the
castles and churches that had been around for hundreds of years? No, there
probably wouldn’t be time for that, not with Mr. Moore’s chaotic schedule.
    The
rest of the ride was made in relative silence, and Mr. Moore spoke on the
phone. His Portuguese was flawless, and Blythe found it quite romantic. Whoever
he spoke to obviously was someone he cared for if his calm voice and gentle
chuckles were anything to go by. Maybe it was his lover, or possibly a fling he
met up with whenever he visited the country? She didn’t let it consume her
thoughts and went back to watching the ocean roll by her. It was glorious and
serene, and she let herself get lost in the pinks and oranges that painted the
horizon. The break of the waves tumbled onto the shore, and the foamy white
deposit it left in its wake made for a hypnotizing view. The car pulled onto a
cobblestoned circular driveway, and Blythe marveled at the villa before her. The
images she had seen certainly didn’t do it justice. The car stopped, and her
door opened only moments later. She climbed out of the car and knew she
probably looked like a tourist as she gawked at the gorgeous structure before
her. The villa was more like a mansion, set right on the water. The sandy
colored stone that made up the three story beach home was a few shades darker
than the sand only a few feet away. Their driver, a tall, thin man going by the
name of Francesco, had thinning wavy black hair and dark brown eyes. He talked
quickly to Dietrich in Portuguese. The language was beautiful and haunting, and
she felt herself get caught up in the melodic quality of it.
    They
followed Francesco up the wide front steps that led to the front door on the
first level. Blythe let her hands travel over the wrought iron