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“The helipad has a dance floor that slides automatically over the landing base. If you entertain, it’s handy to have a space for drunken antics.” Elder flipped a switch by the cabana, activating the silent takeover of the helipad to a perfect wooden stage.

“Parties aren’t really our style,” I muttered as he led us all through another thick waterproof door to a glass elevator that held ten people.

He waited until we all crammed in before pressing a button for the lower decks and descending us through the metal structure of the ship. Uplights and LED strips revealed the mechanical beauty of such a marvel as we sank into its belly.

“Twelve state rooms are all equipped with their own personal bathroom and call button for the butler. They have balconies and individual climate systems. The master is this way.” He waved his hand and bypassed countless doors, leading us toward the front of the vessel beneath the helipad and swimming pool.

Opening the door, he stood to the side and waited until we all trickled in. Cal nudged me on the way past, rolling his eyes at the decadence.

For all the zeros in my bank balance, I had simple tastes. I liked my lighting unobtrusive, my ceilings exposed rafters, and my aircon to be open windows while listening to Nirvana splashing outside.

This yacht screamed money. It dripped with it from every sconce, fluffed pillow, and opulent white rug.

“This is lovely,” Jess said, glancing around the huge master bedroom with its California king bed raised on a platform, the sitting area, private hot tub outside, and the huge windows revealing my islands just out of reach.

“You gave no direction on upholstery or decoration, so we just went with modern trends and unobtrusive palettes. I hope that’s all right.” Tasmin turned to face us. “If you want to change anything, we can provide a trusted decorator.”

“It’s fine.” I smiled. “It’s the epitome of luxury.”

“It’s also safe.” Prest headed to the couch and peeled back a few of the puffy cushions. Reaching down, he pulled out seatbelts. “If the seas are rough, it’s best to strap in. There are seatbelts in all the rooms, in all the beds, and on deck.”

“Looks as if we won’t have to install harnesses, Sinclair.” Cal laughed. “The restraints are already there to stop people from jumping overboard while in the middle of a VR session.”

I threw him a stern look. “Quiet.”

He nodded and shut up about our potential use for this craft.

Prest eyed me but wisely didn’t ask for elaboration. Clearing his throat as if his patience was running out, he said, “Follow me. We’ll go to the helm. I’ll introduce you to your captain, Grant, and he can show you the abundant technology available.”

“Lead the way.” I placed my hand on Eleanor’s lower back.

She shivered, and her eyes lingered on the huge bed.

We’d planned on setting sail in Calypso tomorrow for Rapture. To journey from Indonesia to Tahiti and sample the boat before handing it over to the business over there.

However, now that Prest had delivered early, perhaps we’d leave tonight.

After all, there were a lot of rooms to christen.

And a droplet or two of cinta would help with that.

Kissing Eleanor pointedly on her cheek, I waited until Cal and Jess had followed Elder and Tasmin, leaving us alone for a moment. Radcliffe and Rory had stayed up by the swimming pool, scanning the horizon as they always did for threats.

“I’m sure we could come up with a wicked fantasy to indulge in while we sail around the world.” I spun her into me and kissed her, quick and sharp.

She threw her arms around my neck. “I can think of one.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Standing on tiptoes, she bit my ear, her breath tickling my neck. “An underwater hallucination. Something where we can breathe beneath the waves and look up at a ship like this sailing over our heads all while we fuck on the seafloor.”

“I love your dirty mind.”

“Could you code something like that?”

“I can code anything.”

“In that case...” She pulled away and entwined our fingers, guiding me out the door. “Best get typing, husband.”

“Have you had that fantasy for a while?” I glanced at her ass as she stopped, then turned back to face me.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” I raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”

“Since every time I watch you swim laps around Batari. You’re so sleek and powerful. You’re as comfortable in the water as living beside it. And...we have a lot of sex in the water, what with Nirvana and all our midnight beach strolls...I’ve become rather intrigued with the idea of being beneath the surface instead of floating.”

My mind raced to create. To formulate the best fucking fantasy of her life.

“Any other requests?”

She licked her lips. “I’d like to be powerful. Like the daughter of Triton or something. And you have to bow to me while I sit on my shell throne.” Placing her hand over my rapidly interested heart, she breathed, “You’ll beg me to fuck you all while we both know you could take me against my will. You’ll try to convince me that only you can grant me the best pleasure in all the oceans and...”

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