by Nina Pierce
There was nothing at stake—except her heart.
* * * * *
Jon stared at Claire through the window. He stood mesmerized as Ethan strapped her ankles to the spreader bar and suspended her helpless from the roof. Her pendulous breasts begged for the sting of his crop. Her glistening pussy displayed for his pleasure.
Her body craved dominance. Even from this distance he could see the twitchy response of need as Ethan restrained her.
She’d come at her Master’s beckoning. Trusting. Naked. Ready.
He’d imagined this scenario a thousand times over in the lonely darkness of his bedroom in Indiana. It didn’t matter how many woman over the years had melted at his command or stood the lashes of his punishment. There was only one he wanted.
One woman whose acceptance could give him everything and whose rejection would shred his heart.
Jon had wanted nothing more than to go to Claire when she’d arrived at the lodge. It had been his plan to reveal himself to her. But he’d changed his mind at the last moment, fearing her bond with Master Xavier wasn’t complete. She had to trust him, to believe even when all her emotional walls were breeched and her heart lay bare that he would accept her—love her.
“She’s something.” Ethan came in from outside and stood beside him. The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder, admiring Claire. “I thought you were exaggerating, but she’s stunning. So responsive. Her pussy weeps in anticipation. You called this one right. But then I rarely question your judgment.” Ethan turned to him, the humor washed from his heavy gaze. “Now would be one of those times.”
“You don’t think I should go through with this?”
“On the contrary, I think you should march out there and assert your dominance. Make her beg for that cock of yours and prove to her how much she’s loved.”
“Yeah, well, you said it. She’s something special.” Jon took a long pull of his tonic water, but nothing seemed to dislodge the hot lump of nerves clogging his throat. He hadn’t felt this way since his first public session with a sub a decade and half ago. “I only get one chance at this Ethan and if I scare her…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. The thought of Claire running from him would be too much to bear. Not when he was this close.
“All I can say is if I was in this deep, I sure as hell wouldn’t let fear get in my way.”
The word punched Jonathon’s raw nerves and exploded immediately into anger. “Fear?” His outburst had heads turning and he worked to tamp down his temper. “I’m not afraid. I’m being cautious.” Venom dripped from the words he pushed through clenched teeth. “That woman out there is letting herself feel something she’d buried so deep she didn’t even know it was in her.” Jon shook his hand with the glass at the window, ignoring the cold liquid sloshing over his wrist. “She has no idea that giving up control doesn’t mean giving up herself. She has no clue that she can never give me too much because I want every part of her. But I know this.” His thumb pounded into his chest. “I know every nuance of her body language. I know when she’s upset, even when she smiles. I know when she’s jealous even when her words tell others it doesn’t matter. I know when she’s feeling vulnerable through her false bravado. I know everything about her. I’ve had just a few years of observation.” Inhaling deeply, Jon shut his eyes and reined in his emotions. “Forgive me, Ethan, if I’m not too anxious to go out there and offer her my heart only to have her walk away. I’m just not sure I’d survive.”
“Yeah, that’s what I told her.”
* * * * *
Claire kept her eyes pointed at the wood grain on the deck. She wondered again if Master Xavier had arrived and exactly what it meant to be an appetizer. More voices could be heard as people moved from the air-conditioned confines of the living room out to the pool deck. Chancing a glance to her right, she saw through the curtain of hair that people had begun sitting. A Dom stood over the woman splayed on the table, crooning compliments and stroking her breasts. Another Mistress settled in a chair, instructing her male slave to settle under the table between her spread legs. She wished she could do that for her Master. Suck his cock while he enjoyed his meal.
Her pussy clenched at the salacious thought and she canted her hips trying to ease the ache.
A hand caressed her ass and she jumped at the unexpected contact.
“You like what you see?”
That voice. Melodious and rich, it pulsed through her blood like a shot of adrenaline, ratcheting up her pulse and stealing her breath. She bit back a groan of contentment as Master Xavier walked his fingers up her spine.
“I asked you a question, Claire. I expect a response.”
Her mind was blank. He had barely touched her and she was dizzy with need. “Yes, Master,” she stammered.
He chuckled. “Yes, you’ll answer me or, yes, you like watching others?”
“Both.”
“I like watching you.” She heard the rattle of ice in a glass a moment before he laid an ice cube between her shoulder blades. “I am pleased you accepted my invitation, Claire. Even more pleased that you walked through the resort with nothing on but my jewelry.” He drew the ice slowly down her spine before sliding it back up again. “Did you like being on display for all the guests?”
“Very much, Master.”
“You are very beautiful. I have no doubt you turned many heads.”
The truth was she felt wanton and sexy being naked in front of these people. She was ready and willing—no, needing—her Master to use her for his pleasure. Having people watch just added another exciting level to her arousal.
He dragged the ice over the belt, pulling it down her heated cleft. “People here are waiting in eager anticipation for what I have planned.” The ice swirled around her opening, the water mingling with her juices to run down her thighs. “I like having you displayed for everyone. I want every Dom to wish they could be your Master.” He pushed the ice into her channel and she gasped as her pussy clenched around the chill.
“I want only to please you, Master.”
He pushed two more cubes into her channel. “It would please me to have Mistress Margaret’s slave eat your pussy until the ice has melted.”
“Yes, Master.” Her cunt spasmed and clenched around the ice.
“Mistress Margaret assures me that he has a very talented tongue. It would please me to watch you come in his mouth.”
“Yes, Master.”
A man knelt between her legs, his balls and cock swollen to an angry red, overfilling the cage that surrounded them. Bent over as she was, she couldn’t see his face, and wondered if it was the same man who had greeted her at the door.
“Keep your hands behind your back. Use only your mouth,” said a female behind her. “Show everyone how very talented my slave is.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
A warm tongue slid between her folds and teased her clitoris before delving deep into her pussy. The heat of his tongue and the chill of the ice were a wondrous combination that sent chills up her spine. The slave’s talented tongue slid between her pussy and her clit, alternately sucking and licking as if her cream were a feast for a hungry man. Her body was taut with need and she lifted her ass higher in the air to give him better access.
“Ah, you like that, do you?” A sharp sting bit her ass cheek. “Just a little reminder that I’m here watching. A few bites of my crop as he eats your pussy and makes you shudder and strain in orgasm for our enjoyment will remind you that your Master is here watching another pleasure you.” He spanked her twice more in rapid succession.
A whip snapped behind her and the submissive behind her momentarily stiffened. When it came again, Claire knew without a doubt that his Mistress was treating him to the same painful euphoria. The whip cracked again and he pushed his face between her thighs with added fervor. He moaned with each crack of the whip, the vibration adding dimension to his talented ministrations.
He pulled her swollen clit into his mouth, flicking it with the tip of his
tongue, spreading jolts of bliss down her thighs and up her belly. Her Master alternated the crop between her swollen breasts, back and ass. Sensation rippled over every nerve of her body until Claire wasn’t sure where the pain stopped and the pleasure began. Where it was cold and where it burned. She floated on a cloud of rapture, her body vibrating with sensations she’d never experienced.
“I want you to come.”
Her Master’s voice surrounded her. Centered her. Beckoned her to him.
“Claire. Now.”
Her orgasm slammed into her with such force her knees gave out. The ecstasy tore her apart. Shattered her into rippling shards of heaven. She cried out her Master’s name, vaguely aware of his arm around her abdomen, holding her—supporting her. Shocks of pleasure continued to jolt through her system, rattling the chains above her.
Claire wasn’t sure how long it lasted only that her Master’s voice was sweet and gentle in her ear as he released her from the restraints and held her tight against his heart. Every part of her was sated. She didn’t even have the energy to open her eyes.
“Claire?” His breath feathered across her lips and she melted into him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pressing her mouth to his, opening to invite his tongue to dance with hers. He pulled her tight to his body, desperation and hunger feeding off each other as he deepened the kiss. She smashed her breasts against the solid wall of his chest, her arms clinging to his neck, hungry for more of what he’d just given her.
He broke from the kiss but kept his forehead pressed to hers. His chest heaved with labored breaths and his heart hammered against hers. “Claire, open your eyes.”
It took great effort to obey. She smiled at him, the man who had shattered her world. Desire filled his eyes, the pupils nearly black in their intensity. Claire nipped at his lip, not wanting to break the spell joining them so completely, but he pulled back.
Her gaze swept his face with its shadowed whiskers accenting the square jaw. She’d licked the dimple in that chin and caused the swelling of those full lips. But what was registering couldn’t be her reality.
This man holding her, cradling her in the safety of his arms, the one who had demanded and taken her submission—he couldn’t be the kid who’d boarded the plane with her back in Indiana. Humiliation burned the backs of her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks in hot trails of confusion.
Blinking didn’t change the truth before her. “Jon… Jonny?”
“Hi.” The word came out clogged with emotion.
She pushed from his arms, forcing him to set her on the deck. She was grateful that the submissives on the table still held the attention of many. But it wouldn’t matter if every eye were on her. She’d been made a fool. Embarrassment turned into red-hot rage, unable to melt the icy betrayal twisting her gut. Disgust trembled along every nerve. She wanted to puke, but she pushed down the nausea and willed back her tears. There was no way in hell she was going to let him see how his little game had shredded her heart.
“Claire, I—”
“No.” She cursed the quiver in her chin as she backed away from him. “No, you won’t anything.” Her eyes swept the observers catching their exchange, not sure how to interpret their wide-eyed expressions. “I think this is where I tell you my furniture is dusty.”
“Claire. Please.” Jonny reached for her again, but she held up her hands to stop him.
“Dusty. Master.”
She backed away, cursing him. Cursing all of them. Cursing her belief that things could be different with this man.
Running all the way back to her room, she no longer cared who saw her naked. Their faces were all blurred by tears anyway.
Chapter Six
Claire leaned over the railing of her room’s patio, staring out to sea. Its tranquil waters did nothing to calm the storm thundering in her. Her throat was raw and her eyes puffy and glazed from the tears she had shed. Two hot showers had scrubbed Jonny’s scent from her skin but couldn’t cleanse the hurt and betrayal from her heart.
This weekend was supposed to be an opportunity to let go and experience a side of herself she’d never explored. And she had. She’d allowed herself to feel something for a man who had turned out to be like every other man in her life. Taking from her without regard for what she would have to give up.
Jon Brierton had coaxed her here to fulfill his own lurid fantasies. Well, she hoped he’d enjoyed giving everyone a show. Humiliation burned her cheeks. He’d played her all right. Made her feel things that could never be part of a life outside of this fantasy island of debauchery.
A soft knock came at the door. It was about time. She’d called for the ferry to take her back to the mainland over half an hour ago. Claire understood they needed to make special arrangements to get one here off the regular schedule, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could wait or how far she could run.
But it wasn’t a steward who greeted her at the door.
“Oh Master Ethan,” she said, defiantly staring him in the eye.
“Just Ethan, Claire. I came in my official capacity as manager of Paradise Cove. May I come in?”
She stepped back and waved him in.
His eyes took in the packed suitcase and the collar and armband she’d tossed in the trash. The rumpled bed covers where she’d thrown herself, trying to let the tears purge her embarrassment and disappointment.
“They told me you’ve called for a launch,” he said.
“I think it’s best if I don’t continue this farce any longer.”
He turned back to her. “Farce?” His gaze scraped over her face, searching. The scrutiny was too intimate. Too powerful. Even in the muted hues of sunset, his dominant nature shone bright, and she had to work not to drop her eyes at the intimacy of his gaze.
“He played me, Ethan. He brought me here to prove I’m submissive. To control and dominate me like every other man in my life. Well, bravo. Well played. I caved like a house of cards in a gale-force wind.” She wasn’t sure what disgusted her more, Jon’s duplicity or her compliance.
Ethan stood with his hands casually hooked in the pockets of his khaki slacks, his gaze unwavering. “You really believe that, Claire?”
“What? That he wanted to get his jollies off in front of the gang? Prove what a great Dom he was by humiliating the old woman? Yeah, that’s what I think. Why else would he blindfold me? Keep his identity a secret?”
“Because he wanted your heart to recognize him.”
Her mouth opened, but the words caught in her throat. Anger loosened its grasp on her chest but still she couldn’t catch her breath.
“Think about it, Claire. Last night he came to you and offered himself.”
“No, he took from me. By lying about his identity, he stole my right to choose.”
“Who stole that right from you, Claire?”
“Jonny Brierton, my kid brother’s…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. The man who had restrained her last night so she was free to give everything to him was her Master. He wasn’t some gangly limbed youth who’d sat at her parents’ dinner table scarfing down food and joking with her brother.
She thought she’d cried herself dry, but as Ethan warbled in her vision, she realized she wasn’t nearly finished.
“Claire.” His voice was soft, edged with understanding. “He bared himself to you last night. Dared to step off the cliff and prayed you’d be there to catch him.” She hadn’t realized he’d approached her until his hands rubbed up and down her arms. “You came to him today because you wanted what only he can give you.” She looked at him, seeing the truth in his words.
“I’ve known Jon for a long time,” he said. “I’ve seen him with many subs. But never once have I seen the deep connection he has with you. Every moan of pleasure. Every ripple of excitement. Every ounce of trust. Is your gift to him, Claire. Trust me when I say he treasures every one of them. He didn’t bring you here to hurt or humiliate you. He brought you to this island to help you see how much he loves
you.”
For once in her life, Claire wanted to see past the outer trappings and trust her heart. The man who had made love to her last night had cherished her, not used her. He’d opened something deep inside and hadn’t turned from its darkness.
It was just that she’d screwed up so many times, she wasn’t sure she was thinking clearly. Maybe she just wanted this so badly she was seeing something that wasn’t there. And maybe, just maybe, she’d finally opened her eyes.
Ethan walked to the wastebasket, plucking the collar and armband from its depths. He turned to her and held them up with a quiet reverence. “This is who you are, Claire. There’s a man who’s not only willing to accept it, but he embraces it. Welcomes it. Honors it. Give him a chance. Give yourself a chance. Don’t walk away from this without really taking the time to figure out if it can work. Talk to him before you decide to leave.”
* * * * *
Jon paced the stone walk. It had taken him nearly forty minutes to walk the distance he should have covered in ten. Of course taking four strides toward the bungalow and three back made for slow progress.
He’d been second-guessing himself since he and Claire had set foot on the island. He’d gone for broke and now stood ready to lose the one woman who meant everything to him. Perhaps they’d never again be lovers, but Jon was sure his heart wouldn’t survive if he lost her as a friend.
She couldn’t leave without him at least trying to talk with her. Lifting his hand, he closed his eyes, forcing it to move, willing her to let him in. But his knuckles met only air.
“Oh Jon. Just the man we were coming to see.” Ethan stepped around him, his courteous manager smile firmly in place. “I’ll leave you two alone.” Over Jon’s shoulder, he spoke to Claire, whose full lips were pinched tight, her expression hard. “I’ll let you know when the launch arrives.”
“Thank you, Ethan.”
