Maddy Mine

by Maren Smith

  Maddy glanced up when Colden nudged her elbow.

  "I wasn't supposed to get you," he confessed.

  "No?"

  Colden shook his head, and when Jack ordered them to fall in, obediently took her arm and shuffled her into tight-knit order with the rest of the group. 'Prisoners' on the inside; there were plenty of pirates all the way around to keep them there. "I was supposed to get the lady who walked off."

  "Lucky bastard." She grinned. "How did you manage that?"

  "I saw a familiar face and I gravitated. Just as fast as I could make myself go, as a matter of fact. It's okay. I know you're off-limits, but that doesn't mean we can't still have a good time."

  Startled, Maddy said, "Off-limits?"

  "Well… claimed." Colden shrugged. "You know what I mean."

  She blinked again. "Claimed?"

  "Master Dominick's submissive." He looked at her, his good-natured smile beginning to fade as he realized there might be a problem with what he was saying.

  Was there a problem? That took Maddy as much by surprise as the idea that the other Dominants here might view her as off-limits. She ducked her head, the slow flush of heat stealing into her face. "Well, I guess someone had to pair to him, right? Everyone gets a partner here. That's the whole point, isn't it?"

  "Well, yes…" Colden agreed. "Technically."

  "Technically?"

  "When we open, it'll be that way, sure. But right now…" Colden cast a quick glance at the other guests. "So far you're the only ones who have paired up. Tessa and Mark came together. So did they." When he thumbed back over one shoulder to the two women, Maddy's gaze followed. "I think a couple of the lawyers wandered off together a time or two, but while we're available if someone wants a partner, no one has really made use of that option yet. Except one of the insurance guys—Luke, I think his name was. He let himself get taken down into the dungeon under the barracks by half a dozen of our best female Doms—and, of course…" he gestured at her, "you two have been boinking like bunnies all over the place. Or at least, that's what I've heard."

  She laughed to hide her embarrassment, but even as she did it she already knew he wasn't wrong. By now, she and Dominick were as paired as two people could get. They'd spent every night in one another's company, from the first when they'd slept side by side, sexually exhausted in a sandy flowerbed, to last night, when they'd alternated between dozing in one another's arms and engaging in some of the most rigorous sex she'd ever experienced in her life. His favorite position was flat on his back while she rode him cowgirl-style. He liked to watch—the undulating rocking of her hips, the sway of her breasts, the hunger that grew in her eyes the closer she came to cumming. He liked to take her captive when she got close like that. He'd catch her hands or her wrists, or he'd pull her down to lie flat on top of him, stomach to stomach and breasts to chest, his strong arms hugging her tight while his hips picked up the motion, fucking her from below.

  Her face really was hot now, and not just because she was facing into the sun.

  "You're beautiful when you're embarrassed," Colden said, still smiling. "And it's okay. I'm going to show you around the Cove, let you take your pictures and get a good look at what we have to offer. I won't cross any boundaries. Mostly because I don't want to have to run laps."

  Maddy covered her eyes but the truth was, she wasn't half as embarrassed as she was starkly aroused. They began the long and winding tromp down the hill toward the ship. It did terrible things to her already agitated nerves to think she was following in Dominick's footsteps, perhaps even putting her feet exactly where he had.

  "I didn't know he was the one doing that," she said, because the longer she went without speaking, the more her thoughts ached to dwell on him. On all the ways he'd touched her last night. On all the ways he'd touch her again just as soon as he decided he was done working and came to find her. It was a sickness that she could already imagine how he'd look when he did—broad shoulders squared in anticipation of her. Dark eyes fixing on her the instant he saw her, sharpening on her features, growing that much more intense with each step that brought him closer.

  Her stomach tightened, convulsing in time with the sensual spasm that gripped her sex. God, it really was a sickness.

  "Yup." Colden chuckled, pretending not to notice when she shivered. "He's a hard guy to like, frankly. It's like being in high school gym class, and no one dares complain because the last guy who took it to Rita got fired on the spot. At least he's consistent. Get in trouble a little bit, get one or two laps around the resort. Screw up a lot, get four or five laps. Mess with his submissive, risk losing your job."

  It was amazing how fast the heat of the day could turn cold. Maddy almost stopped walking. "He… he fired them?"

  Realizing he'd said more than he should have, Colden took her hand, prompting her to keep walking as he gave it a comforting squeeze. "No, Sally and her friends are still here. But it was a near thing, from what I heard, and Emil wrote them up. Justifiably, I might add. They never should have done that to you."

  Maddy tried to blow it off, her puff of exasperation feeling as strained as the sudden tightness in her chest. "It wasn't like that. It—"

  "Don't try to justify it," Colden said, the squeeze of his hand around hers seeming more like a warning than a gesture of comfort. "What they did was wrong. Do you know what you're really saying every time you try to brush it off like it was no big deal? You're saying you deserved it somehow. That what happened doesn't matter because you don't matter. Maybe it's a good thing you're off-limits. I'd hate to guess how many laps I'd have to run for giving you a well-deserved smack on the rump right now."

  They'd come all the way through town and the gates to the wharf loomed ahead, a giant maw of wood and metal bars that had done little to keep out the pirate horde. As they crossed under the shadow of it, Maddy spied Dominick standing on the forward deck, hands resting on the rail, the ocean breeze playing through his dark hair and tugging at the folds of his coat and trousers. Her stomach warmed and some of that pulling tension in her chest eased.

  From somewhere in the line of pirates and people behind her, Mark said, "I just can't get over how real these ships look. It's like stepping back in time."

  It was, too. The architectural detail was more authentic than Maddy had expected. Not that she was an authority on old-fashioned ships, but from the mast to the sails, to the elaborate headpiece of a blindfolded woman in chains, it looked like a vessel straight out of the history books. Even the rear of the hull was elaborately carved with dozens of effigies of couples caught in various acts of copulation. That was where Maddy spotted Tessa, standing to the absolute rear of the ship, as far from Dominick as the deck would allow her to get. She was looking at Maddy, too. From here, the pale of her gray eyes seemed as dark as Dominick's.

  "All aboard," Pirate Jack called as he strolled up the boarding plank. A shrill bosun's whistle duplicated the order and they all obeyed, scaling the plank two at a time, with each captive aided by the steadying hand of his or her pirate guide.

  Passing over that wedge between the dock and the ship's deck was a little unnerving. She'd done it once before, but at that time, she'd been more annoyed by the shackles they'd clapped her in to pay much attention to where they were taking her. But now, here she was again, back on the deck of a seventeenth century ship and, again, she was wearing chains.

  Emil and Jack were standing with Dominick now, bending his ear with whatever business matters needed discussing. As if he felt the brush of her admiring gaze, his eyes found hers. She raised her hands a little, showing off her manacles. A corner of his mouth lifted. Was he thinking about how they'd passed the time on their last voyage, she wondered. She deliberately licked her lips and his gaze dropped to her mouth.

  He physically adjusted his stance. Don't distract me, his dark eyes chided. I will get even, his smile promised.

  She couldn't wait.

  "That. Is. Awesome!" Mark exclaimed, watching as a pirate climbe
d the rigging, up the tallest mast to the crow's nest high above the deck. "Can guests go up there?"

  "No," three insurance agents said at once.

  "Hell no," Emil added.

  Mark threw up both hands, gesturing to the crow's nest in equal parts excitement and disappointment. "But… but why not?"

  "Because we don't know if you can climb any better than you can swim," Dominick said flatly, eliciting several chuckles and a dirty look from Mark.

  The only one who didn't seem amused was Tessa. Keeping her lone vigil at the rear of the ship, Tessa watched as the plank was lifted, the dock ropes untied and, at last, the Poxy Strumpet set sail. Why she hadn't gone back to her guest room or, better yet, all the way back to the main island, Maddy didn't know, but she couldn't help wondering. She seemed to be as far from enjoying herself as any one person could get, but here she was. Still tagging along with the rest of the group. There had to be a reason for it.

  But maybe the only reason Tessa needed was whatever gave her the opportunity to enjoy the mother of all sulks out in the open where everyone could see her. Because really, what fun was there in sulking if no one knew you were doing it?

  Determined not to let Tessa's presence ruin the day, Maddy turned her back and did her best to put the sulky woman out of her mind. In retrospect, it was probably the worst thing she could have done.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  "What are those islands?" Mark asked, pointing out across the water.

  The heat of midday beat down on Dominick's head and shoulders as he shielded his eyes with both hands. Sunlight reflecting off the water made it difficult to make out any details on the fairly sizeable wooded island straight ahead of them. Far to the right, perhaps a mile out, he could make out a much smaller yellowish haze that might have been sandy land. A third, even smaller than the last, was little more than a speck on the horizon.

  "Those are too small to be of any real use to the resort," Emil replied, a fount of tried and tested patience, mostly in the answering of Mark's constant questions. It was like trying to sail with a two-year-old.

  "What's that?" he'd asked, pointing with all the excitement of a man who'd never been to sea.

  "A porpoise," Emil patiently replied.

  "What's that?"

  "Jellyfish."

  "Ooh! What's that?"

  "Still a porpoise."

  Dominick admired his calm; he'd have lost his shit three porpoises ago.

  "The original purchase of the main resort island," Emil explained as several guests lined up along the rail to listen, "came with five additional, albeit smaller, islands within a space of about a hundred and twenty square miles. Two of those islands—Fleetwood Colony and Pirate Cove—were large enough for us to put to use. The remaining three islands, however, are next to useless. The smallest is about two acres long and has, literally, one palm tree growing on it. We've considered using it as a marooning station for those who want the 'stranded on a remote island with a horny pirate' experience. The next is three acres with little vegetation, no fresh water and a lot of volcanic rock. This one here," Emil pointed to the long stretch of land straight ahead, "this is about fifteen acres long, two acres wide at its thickest point, and might be big enough to put a golf course on. We're still weighing the pros and cons."

  "A golf course?" Dominick drummed his fingers on the side rail, unimpressed. "Of all things, why a golf course?"

  "A lot of our employees are golf nuts. The suggestion was made that having a few normal resort amenities might help make us a more attractive vacation destination."

  "To whom?" Dominick countered. "The vanillas? Anyone interested in coming to this resort isn't going to care if you have a golf course. They're coming here for the dungeons, the pirates, and the play partners. They can play golf at home. It's the kink outlet that will keep them coming back." His wide-armed swing encompassed the historically-accurate ship before, grabbing the nearest guest, Dominick rattled their manacles. "This is what they can't get at home. The bondage, the discipline, the kinky sex…"

  "I know that," Emil said, frowning. "But try telling that to a bunch of golf-infatuated employees who don't want to travel all the way to the mainland and back whenever they have a day off. It's a twenty minute flight, but the boats take almost twice as long as that to get here."

  "Fine." Turning, Dominick cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed across the ship, "No golf course!" He glared at everybody, drilling that edict in by the force of his stare alone, before swinging back to Emil. He shrugged. "Problem solved."

  "For you, maybe, and only because no one wants to test if you'll make them run laps around the ocean. The minute you go home, I'll be hearing about this for months!"

  Voice softening dangerously, Dominick said, "The next person who mentions a golf course, make them run five laps. If people keep asking, add another lap. And another and another, until they either get the hint or get really good at running. We don't do golf courses, especially not when you have limited land on which to build. We don't do basketball or tennis courts, either. The only reason we do swimming pools is because a body can do a lot of kinky shit in a swimming pool."

  "When are we visiting that island?" asked the man Dominick had grabbed.

  "It's not on the tour," Emil said.

  "But I'm supposed to check everything." Deciding introductions might make his request easier, he stuck out his chained hands. "Bob Slovak. Liberty Mutual."

  "Insurance," Emil guessed.

  "Yes," Bob acknowledged. "I know it's an inconvenience, but I was assured that I would be allowed to tour every aspect of the resort. It's my job. I've got to do it. Ms. Moberly promised."

  Glancing from the island to his wristwatch, Emil frowned at Dominick, and finally turned back to Bob. "There is nothing on that island. Absolutely nothing. Not even a survey marker."

  "I need to see it anyway," the agent insisted. "Whether it's been modified, is currently in use or not." He flashed a semi-cajoling smile. "We're right here. Come on. Fifteen acres won't take long."

  Dominick joined Emil in his critical once-over of the long island. The tree-lined beach was long and flat, with very few rocky features. "Is there a dock on the other side?"

  "Nope," Emil said flatly. "We'll have to row over in the boats."

  "How long before we get to the Cove?" Shading his eyes again, Dominick scoured the beach.

  "Another hour or so," Emil replied. "If the wind holds. A little less if we have to turn on the engines."

  Grunting, Dominick turned to the agent. "How long is it going to take you to look at…" he glanced at the remote island, "whatever you need to look at?"

  Shrugging, Bob said, "An hour, maybe two. Depends on how long it takes to do a quick walk around. No structures whatsoever, right?" he asked Emil.

  "Not even a picnic table."

  "About an hour then," Bob answered with a confident nod.

  Stifling a sigh, Dominick caught Emil's arm and checked his watch. He hated delays almost as much as he did broken routines. The ship was pretty, the island was pretty; all this hurry up and wait was going to drive him nuts. Not that either he or Emil had much choice.

  "Ms. Moberly promised," Bob said again, only now he was smiling.

  Pain in the ass insurance agents.

  "Can we all go check out the island?" asked a female attorney, joining them at the rail. Dominick glanced at her but almost immediately, his attention slipped, skipping down the length of the deck to find Maddy laughing and talking with a tall sun-bronzed pirate who had a hell of a lot more teeth now than he was going to if he didn't stop his flirting.

  Dominick rolled his shoulders and forced himself to calm. Maddy wasn't doing anything wrong. Neither was her pearly-toothed friend, although it was still a toss-up whether that would save him later on. If only he could trade places with that pirate. He'd much rather be standing with Maddy, watching as the wind tugged and teased at her hair, whipping it across her face into her eyes and her mouth. Now and then, she'
d counter by running her hands back over her head, gathering up the stray wisps. She hadn't put it up today, it was all flowing wild and wind-combed, and his own hands itched to take the place of hers. He knew how soft her hair felt running through his fingers.

  "What do you think?" Emil asked.

  Dominick reluctantly turned away. He found himself staring at the beach once more and imagining how Maddy would look, holding up her silly skirts while she walked barefoot in the sand and surf just to feel the warmth of it between her toes. And right on the heels of that came a much hotter and far less idle thought as he found himself imagining how it would feel to make love to her on that quiet little island, no one around, no one watching, all costumes cast aside… just her and him and all the gasps and moans and soft seductive sighs that he could coax from her.

  "I suppose it won't hurt anything if we let the guests disembark for a while," Emil said, answering his own question. He waved a crewmember to him. "Find out how many people want to go ashore and get the boats in the water. We'll start shuttling people over. I don't know. They can collect seashells or coconuts or something. We'll just have to warn them to watch out for spiders and boas."

  Nodding, the pirate walked away. For Dominick, all thoughts of sinking Maddy into the soft, wet sand and rocking to the motions of the waves that rolled in to lap between their legs, froze. "Boas?"

  Emil both nodded and shrugged. "Snakes. We don't have a lot of them, but occasionally they like to drop out of the trees on top of you."

  "I know what a fer-de-lance is." Now, in addition to the lapping of those imaginary waves, Dominick could feel the coiling, sidewinding slither of a snake landing on his head. Suddenly the sun didn't feel quite so warm.

  "What?" Emil asked, staring at Dominick in a way that made him wonder if he'd suddenly turned as pale as he felt.