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“You are hungering for sex, aren’t you?” His deeply resonant voice went straight to her loins, so starved for eroticism of any sort.
She opened her eyes and looked deeply into his. “I suppose I am.” Though difficult, she forcefully willed herself to remain composed.
“Suppose?” He held back his laugh. “You’re like a powder keg.”
“That could be true,” she held her ground, even though she felt as if she were clinging to the edge of a dangerous precipice with her fingers grasping nothing but sand.
“And very shrewd. You want to have it the way you want it. That’s not at all like the Marquis’ property, is it?”
“And you would know?”
“I can guess. I certainly know dominant from submissive.” His fingers continued playing with her hair as if he were in awe of it, in awe of her. “Oh, but I bet you had your moments as the Marquis’ slave girl. Did your husband give you away?”
“Yes. Twice.” She couldn’t believe she’d actually admitted that.
“So what’s that like—a woman like you, who’s used to being proper and correct, a pretty sane and decent woman in her regular life—what is it like shedding her inhibitions, giving herself to strangers? How does that even work?”
“You want me to tell you about when Erik gave me away?”
“Yeah, I’m intrigued.”
He was so inside her that she could barely breathe, and the threatening suffocation forced her to pull away. She didn’t want to talk about Erik, or those two men who used her…she never had wanted to talk about them. She hadn’t even discussed them with Sandra and Elise. They were best forgotten. What she wanted now was a quickie fuck in a room upstairs maybe, or over the back of a library chair, or even bound with rope, naked in one of the vestibules in the living room. Anything. Anything. Anything to sweep away the resilient fire of need that urgently grabbed at her cunt. She was a madwoman in this state. And Alex Greenwood was demanding more talk, more explanations.
“What, you’re too shy to tell me?”
“No, I’m not shy, but I’m not used to divulging private matters with strangers. I’ve already admitted more than I wanted to.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’d think you’d want to get your sins off your chest,” he goaded her, grinning.
“Sins?”
“Isn’t that how you perceive them?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because something is troubling you. You’re one pent-up broad, like a volcano that’s ready to explode. Anyone with half a mind can see that. I can feel that rumbling energy. You’re not right with the Marquis, or that bracelet, or the husband that gave it to you. That’s why you’re here. You’re a pretty gutsy woman coming all the way to this island to get to the bottom of this mystery. I respect that. Me? I’m just curious. I could fuck you; that’s what you want. But, I want more than that, Laney. I want to know why I’m fucking you. And if I’m going to give you what you want, I want to know how much I can take for me.”
Laney’s mind was in a stew—anger, frustration and lust surfacing as fast as her desire. The nerve of the man to think he knew her. But still she wanted him and worse was the fact that he knew she did. She should have him take her back to St. Martina. She’d paid him for the trip, and owed him nothing else. Even so, her lust ragged on her, and she wanted what he could give her: the hard, furious, fucking sex. His smoldering ferocity was exactly what she’d been thirsting for in her erotic wasteland. There’d be no strings, just a rough screwing. He could even beat her if he wanted to. She’d take it all to rid herself of the oppressive need this island aroused in her deprived body.
He must be one of the Marquis’ circle. How else would he know so much? She suspected something diabolical was at work here, but that didn’t matter to her now.
“So, what’s it going to be? You tell me the whole story and the two of us get it on, or we give up and leave?”
“No. I don’t want to leave.” Her aching foot felt as though it had swelled to the size of a basketball. The physical, sexual ache was even worse. Too weary to fight with herself anymore, she made her way to the nearest chair and sat, putting her foot up on the stool that Alex pushed her way. She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, sensing Alex sit down nearby. It had been months since she dared to think about the tawdry incidents of her submission, but they came back clearly now. Maybe it was the island, maybe Alex’s cocky insistence, maybe just her bottled-up psyche anxious to confess. Maybe it was simply the right time. Yes, she wanted to stay and she wanted to tell him everything.
“Erik and I were on a cruise ship in the Caribbean. A man approached us while we were sunbathing on the deck. I’d seen him before, although I hadn’t seen him staring at the bracelet. I’d had it just a week and was still feeling exposed wearing the thing. Erik assured me that the Marquis’ circle included just a few men and that it would be nearly impossible to find one on this vacation and I had nothing to fear. I probed Erik for answers about his intentions, his real intentions as one of the Marquis’ masters, and his expectations of me—not the fantasy, but what he’d actually require I do. Would he demand I submit to other men? Would he watch? Would he direct the scenes? Would he leave me with strangers? I was excited, but very nervous; I had no idea how things played out and Erik refused to give me any satisfactory answers. He said that it would be good for me not to know, I’d be even more excited if it were a surprise. He said I could learn humility and surrender—which was his way of saying that I had a ways to go on that account. While the mystery that surrounded my enforced submission was titillating, I hated the fact that he thought I needed to learn anything. I knew I wasn’t particularly submissive in my working life. But what happened to me while I was here affected me so profoundly that I had to take this as far as I could. I’ve never been a woman to settle easy, or half-way.”
Laney stared at the fisherman’s face, feeling his energy invade her more deeply than ever. Taking a deep breath she continued.
“The man who approached us was very well-dressed. I remember the pressed slacks and a silk shirt, and he spoke with an accent, Italian, maybe, I wasn’t sure. He was definitely Latin—Spanish, maybe French. There was a romance about him that intrigued me, a mystifying quality of a man accustomed to seducing women. ‘Your wife?’ he spoke to Erik not to me. Erik answered yes. ‘She wears the bracelet,’ he said and he nodded at my wrist. Erik looked a little surprised, but he smiled as if he was glad that the bracelet had been seen and he’d have an opportunity to give me away. Nothing else was said in front of me. The stranger pulled Erik aside and the two spoke privately, while I waited shuddering in a deck chair, feeling exactly like the property that I’d become. Property Erik could share with any man he chose to—whether they wore the Marquis’ mark or not. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. But I was very much aroused. And the stranger…” she blushed, “well, let’s just say, I was already seduced—not like that’s actually necessary but it certainly helped to quiet my nerves.”
Laney stopped talking, eyeing the fisherman as he rose to his feet and moved toward the far wall, not far from where the Marquis’ book lay in plain view on the bookcase. To Laney’s surprise, he opened a built-in cabinet underneath one of the bookcases and pulled out a leather strap, a spanking strap by the look of it, with a handle woven into a loop. He grasped it tightly, while Laney waited in jaw-dropping silence, the level of her arousal taking another sudden leap. Alex suddenly snapped the leather against the air, and it made an enormous crack, one not unlike the crack of a whip. Then with the leather still clutched tightly in his fist, he leaned forward, both hands pressed into the back of the old, frayed couch.
“What’s that for?” Laney asked.
“Does it scare you?”
“Yes, of course it does.”
