Page 48 of Winter’s Fire

The yacht was their transport for the third and last segment of their journey from London. The transatlantic flight had been followed by a shorter one to the island where they’d picked up this magnificent vessel. Before weighing anchor, they’d all attended a safety briefing, which had included facts and figures about the trip, much of which had gone over the top of her head. Unlike Logan, she wasn’t a natural sailor, so to her, it seemed as if they’d been at sea for days.

“Do you have any idea how much longer it’ll be before we arrive?”

Logan cast his glance forward—not that there was anything to see, just blue water and darkening sky, dotted with the brightest stars just starting to emerge. “If the weather doesn’t close in and we carry on at this rate of progress, I’d say we have another two or three hours.”

“I’ll be glad when we do get there.”

Logan lifted his hand to loop a strand of hair, escaped from her ponytail, around her ear. “Maybe I can do something to take your mind off it. Would you like to go back to the cabin?”

Far from being the poky little berth of her imagination, their accommodation aboard this floating sex palace could have doubled for a suite in one of the swankiest hotels in the world. The centrepiece—and what a centrepiece—was a bed that could be measured by the acre.

A couple of hours… that bed… Logan Simmonds. Equal measures of time, place and man in a cocktail of pure pleasure, the thought alone more intoxicating than anything to be found behind a bar. Lucy dropped her gaze for a moment, then made eye contact with her Dom. “Could we, Sir? Please?”

“We’ve had too much of this for any serious play.” He clinked his champagne flute against hers.

As had most of the passengers. Overindulgence was probably the norm on this short cruise, which probably explained why the selection of toys provided in each suite was relatively uncomplicated and harmless.

“I know, Sir, but I’m sure there are other ways we can pass the time.”

Several cabins already had a “Do Not Disturb” tag hanging from the door handle. It appeared that the soundproofing might not be quite as effective as they’d been told, if the muted groans and cries of pleasure, and assorted other sounds were any indication.

When Logan transferred the tag to the outside of their door, Lucy’s heart rate shifted up a gear, banishing any feeling of fatigue from travelling for hours on end. She kicked off her heels and stood with her back to the door and Logan, hands clasped, fingers twisting nervously.

“Lisa.”

Undercover time. “Yes, Sir?”

His palms burned her shoulders, bare apart from the narrow straps of her sundress—the only garment she wore. Her Dom had taken her knickers before they boarded this floating shrine to decadence. Lips caressed the side of her neck, then his hands moved, and Logan was releasing her hair, combing it with his fingers to free it from its bonds.

“Remove your dress for me, please.”

There he went again, with that voice that made heat thicken and pool deep inside her. The formality of it, the order concealed within the polite request, all of it combined to send a shockwave of desire and longing through Lucy. Bereft of their only covering, her nipples beaded in the cool, air-conditioned atmosphere, tightening almost painfully at the feather-like drag of a fingertip down her spine. She arched beneath his touch.

“I love having you naked for me, Lisa.” His low voice rumbled over her skin. “It means you’re mine, and I know you’re wet and ready for me to take you.”

Hot palms caressed her hips with firm strokes. Fingers dug in, dragging her back against a hard body—and even harder cock. And where he was all hard, she was soft and needy, hungry for that hardness to fill her softness. The rigid evidence prodded her backside through the fine fabric of the designer slacks that Lucan Simpson favoured. Logan Simmonds hated them, and Lucy wondered, with more than a little impatience, how long it would take for them to come off.

For now, though, with Logan’s hands exploring her body and the heat of him at her back, Lucy was content to bask in the moment. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against Logan. The scent of him filled her with sensual hunger and the desire to surrender to whatever he wanted from her. Knowing he’d push her limits, but always keep her safe.

Always.

“Spread your legs for me, babe.”

“Babe” was Lucan’s pet name for Lisa. Logan had come up with it to help Lucy to separate herself from her false identity. How she longed to hear “princess” again.

Logan’s fingers glided between her folds. He touched her clit, and arousal quaked through her body. Only the muscular arm wrapped around her waist held her upright. The soft cotton of his shirt was a comforting whisper between them. He was all she could think of, all she craved. Her toes curled into the luxurious carpet. She gave a soft moan of pleasure bordering on agony.

“Make all the noise you want, Lisa.” The words were rough, honeyed sex whispered in her ear. “Fuck the soundproofing. Before we get to Nenufar, I’m going to make you scream so loud, everyone on board will hear you come.”

~~*~~

Soft music played, courtesy of the cabin’s state-of-the-art sound system. Logan was barely aware of it. The music, their surroundings, everything receded except the beautiful submissive who stood before him. In this hedonistic no man’s land between real life and the resort where pretence was the only option, there was no need to hide his growing desire for this woman.

Guilty secrets still poisoned his soul. He’d never been one for bothering the Almighty too much, but he prayed their first day on the island would give him the answers he needed to save him from telling Lucy the truth. Then he could use their time in the sun-drenched paradise to persuade this incredible woman to fall in love with him.

This fucking mission had been one complication after another. Go on holiday, ask a few questions about a missing couple.By the way, you’re taking the boss’ nit-picking secretary, who gets off on making your life difficult, to bolster your cover, and you have to train her to act like a submissive before you go.

Oh, and just for good measure—you’re going to end up falling in fucking love with her.