by Rosie Praks
Tuna with fresh salad. How appetizing for lunch, I thought sarcastically.
“Eat,” was all he said before sitting in front of me and forking his own food into his mouth.
His eyes skimmed my body, which didn’t help my current state one bit. My nipples were already perked and the lips of my sex already swollen, ready for more action. Subconsciously, I eased my butt backward and forward on the couch, just to release some tension. I told myself there wouldn’t be any more action today. The only action would be my mouth—talking about our current situation here at sea.
“You’re wearing my shirt,” he commented casually.
“Obviously,” I snapped, eyes glaring fire at him. “You neglected to collect my clothing when you kidnapped me.”
“I didn’t kidnap you.” He corrected, his voice stern.
“And what do you call this, then?” I lashed, gesturing to our surroundings. “I’m in your yacht against my own will.”
“As I recall,”—Julian popped a tomato into his mouth and chewed, whacking my brain function for a second—“you enjoyed our time together. I don’t consider that to be against your will.”
“Our time together consisted of a few fucks this morning.” I clawed back at him. “And now that my brain is functioning normal again, I want to go home.”
“Stay with me for a few more days.” His voice softened a notch. But that still didn’t get me to relax or mollify to this situation. It just got me angrier.
“To do what? Fuck with you some more?”
“If you would like that, then I’m willing to oblige.” He forked some more greens into his mouth.
“Fuck you, Julian.” I screeched out of my chair, yelling my innermost thought at him. “You’re sick.”
His jaw ticked. He clenched his fork in a tight fist, his knuckles turning white. But that moment passed in a second, and soon he was gazing up at me, his eyes roaming up and down my body again, before casually remarking, “Not as sick as you, craving my body every few minutes.”
He was right. My clit was already throbbing mad for him to be inside me. But my mouth had more dignity. “I’m not that desperate.”
“You are one dirty girl, aren’t you, Kimberly?” Julian put his fork down, staring at me like he was my superior.
“I can be sweet to some and rude to others. You, Julian, you deserve my crude speech.”
“Did you ever speak like that to me when we were in Miami together?”
The memories from our lovely time in Miami flooded my brain like a broken dam. It was the best time of my life. I'd enjoyed it so much. Never had I felt that much splendor in my life. Until he ruined it all that night. Now my heart was a shadow of itself. I didn’t have the energy or the courage to pursue another man. I was stuck with him.
This Julian. He trapped me. With his voice, his stormy grey eyes, his body. I was mesmerized by him, captivated, and even though I had the choice, I knew I couldn’t choose another.
“Don’t talk about Miami. I was just a stupid girl who got fooled by you. Rest assured I won’t make the same mistake twice. Now tell me what exactly did you bring me out to sea for? What do you want with me, Julian?”
“Do you want the real deal?” His eyebrow quirked up in question, mouth twisted slightly.
“The real deal, lay it out on the table.” I sat back down, wanting to hear the truth from his mouth. And he better tell me the truth, or I’d claw his eyes out.
“Okay.” He eyed me, leaning back against his chair. “Want to have a relationship with me?”
I stared at him wide-eyed, gobsmacked at what just came out of his mouth.
“Are you talking about having a real relationship with no pretenses?”
“Yes.” He nodded. Once again, a slight twitch appeared on his lips, and that twitch soon curved up into a fuckable smile.
“Your reason?” I folded my arms to stop my perky nipples from protruding even more just from seeing that smile on his face.
“I enjoy fucking you.”
Oh shit! I was on stage nine of near combustion. I screeched out of my chair again and shook my head out of my lustful hazy state.
“Fucking your partner doesn’t necessary make up a healthy relationship. You’ve got to have trust. Which I don’t have in you. You’ve got to be open to sharing your innermost secrets with your partner, which you clearly can’t.”
“So what?” Julian folded his arms, a placid look on his face. “We should be fuck buddies, then?”
“No, we will not!” I lashed out again, having had enough of this bullshit nonsense. “Take me back. I want to go home.”
Julian slammed his palms on the wooden table suddenly, his demeanor changing in the space of three seconds. I blinked, watching as his face inched closer to mine, until he was only a breath away from my lips.
“Hear this, Kimberly. You’re mine. Get that clear in your head. Sooner or later, you’ll have to accept that.”
This scene reminded me of when I made my declaration of wanting him back from our first few meetings in Brisbane.
How could our situation be reversed? Now he was the one who was in control. And I was his puppet.
This thought aggravated me. I didn’t like to be the loser or the puppet.
I stared at the plate of tuna in front of me. I inhaled. I exhaled. Then I flipped the plate, smearing the tuna on Julian’s face.
Julian seethed. His eyes were a dark molten grey. I could smell his wrath from where I stood. I slid out of my seat, running for the door to safety before he gathered his bearings again.
But I didn’t get far enough. Julian tugged at my shirt, pulling me back with a heavy thud when I hit his chest.
I whined with pain, but he didn’t allow me to wallow in misery. He jerked my chin up.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled obscenely in my ear. “You’re going to clean every chunk of tuna off my body.”
My whole body shook at the pleasurable thought of the ardent task before me.
Oh God. I’ve unleashed the beast again.
And the beast was certainly unleashed when he tugged me forward, his palm on my bared butt.
His eyes sparkled with erotic lust when he noticed.
“You’re not wearing panties?”
“We’ve touched base on that subject already.”
“Fuck me. I’m going to enjoy punishing you.” His deep baritone hit me like an arrow straight to my heart.
I quivered next to him. His eyes only lit up even brighter, like the evil puppet master he was, and he grinned wider, like I was his Christmas present.
Lucky Santa didn’t wrap me up too tightly in his giftwrap because Julian tore open the shirt in one swift action, taking more time to stare at my breasts than to take notice of his expensive grey shirt in tatters on the floor.
Julian grazed his teeth on my nipple, holding my heavy globes in his hands while I continued to moan out amorous sentiments because I was so aroused.
He ran his finger down to my navel. Then going farther down south, he cupped at my sex, inserting one finger into my already drenched core. My sex seemed to suck his finger in, clenching tight around that digit, not wanting to let go.
“How long have you been in this state?” he provoked next to my ear.
I didn’t reply to him. It was too embarrassing to admit I wanted him.
He pulled out. I whined at the empty sensation.
He jerked my chin so I would meet his eyes again. “How long?”
“I don’t know,” I let out. “Let me go.”
“You really can’t get enough of my body, can you?”
I pushed him off. But he wouldn’t let me. I finally gave up and answered truthfully, pain and misery all laced in this one sentence. “If I could, I would, but sadly, my body has a mind of its own.”
“So why listen to your brain, then, if your body says it wants me?” He caressed my cheek like he loved me and cared for me sincerely.
“Because my body tends to want t
hings that would cause my heart to break. And this heart will not go through the same pain twice.”
“Did I hurt you that badly?” His voice suddenly broke.
“Very badly.” I moaned when he went back to probing my sleek entrance again.
I arched forward, subconsciously thrusting my breasts toward him. This only encouraged him as he licked and sucked my nipples vigorously while his hand continued to cup and rub my sex. I felt a warm glow radiating through me. Was he enjoying my body like I enjoyed his?
“I didn’t mean for us to go this far.” His eyes wavered, observing me while his lips were still plastered to my nipple.
A trace of that same Julian I loved flittered past me in that second and my heart fluttered.
“Julian.” I cradled his head and pressed him closer to my chest, wanting him to hear my thunderous beating heart. “Tell me.”
“It’s not time yet.” He surged back, sucking at my nipples even harder, his finger pounding into my core faster, making desire pulse through my veins in rapid succession.
I gritted my teeth, pulling his coal black hair back with my fingers as I took deep, gulping breath. I knew I was losing it.
Once again, I was trapped in Julian's strong hold, letting him do to my body as he pleased.
* * * * *
CHAPTER 8
I found myself licking every inch of Julian’s hard body. I was now fully naked, as was he. I lay on his body, hands bound by his strong arms. Punishment, he said. And now I must rectify the situation by cleaning him. With my tongue.
I didn’t get to taste the tuna when it was on my plate. Instead, I sampled the sweet chili flavor on his body. His sweat added an extra salty flavor.
It was quite delicious. My tongue licked and nibbled away at the remnants of food on his chest. I laved at his nipple too, and he convulsed, his eyes rolled, and his head bent back. I didn’t know men could get aroused by having their nipples stimulated.
I smiled, discovering I could break him by just licking him. Who knew Julian’s erogenous zone would be his nipples?
So I took my task seriously, sucking at his nipples, as revenge.
“Fuck, Kimberly!” he growled, tossing me under him, my cheek pressed against the plush black couch, my back against his chest.
From this position, I couldn’t see what he was doing. But I could feel his weight on my body, his warm hand crawling to the small of my back. I froze when his hand made its way south, palming my butt until his fingers sought my drenched core from behind.
And then he did what I did to him before. He took his revenge on me. He pumped my sex, flicking his two fingers in and out of my love canal. I writhed on that couch, my fingers clawing at the plush material.
“Julian, stop. I can’t hold on. Please stop,” I rasped. But he wouldn’t stop with his motion, punishing me for licking his sensitive nipple. He continued to drill those digits into my core, finger fucking me until I came and screamed out obscene curses.
Julian just laughed. And I hated him all the more. But that wasn’t the end of it. I felt something hard sliding easily into me. And I opened my eyes wide. He was fucking me. From behind. Again.
“Julian. No!”
But my no meant yes. I wanted him. I needed him to hit me harder, go for it stronger.
And he obliged. He held on to my hips, pumping into me with his powerful thrusts so I had to hold on to the armrests to support myself.
On and on it went. We were both drenched in sweat and a combination of something else. The air was heavy with the sweet smell of ardent sex so thick it tickled my nose.
When I was about to climax, he dumped me back to the missionary position, stopping me just at that moment before I came. I gritted my teeth, cursing him again.
I was now lying on my back, legs spread apart, eyes staring at the ceiling.
I scooted upright to a sitting position, but Julian pushed me back down, wrapping my legs around his neck. His eyes shone bright with unbridled desire as he took me in this position.
At last, when I thought I was about to combust, he released his essence into me, making me come in rhythm to his thrusts.
Breathing heavily after our coupling, Julian drew out of me. Our juices dribbled down my thighs in copious amounts.
I closed my eyes, trying to stop the spinning in my head. Oh God. I’ve done it again. I’ve lost myself to his spell. If I were to go on like this, I would never win our battle of wills.
I opened my eyes when I felt hot breath on my face. Julian was right in front of me, his grey eyes so moist it was almost like he was crying.
“Two things.” He warned me. “Never ever throw your food at me. And never ever wave your bare ass in front of me again.”
“I didn’t.” I lashed out at him. “I was wearing your shirt. It covered my butt. And you deserved that food being thrown at you. You stupid, arrogant beast. It’s—”
Julian kissed me so hard my ears buzzed. And for the rest of that day, we just aggressively fucked each other's brains out.
* * * * *
Throughout the second and third day on his yacht, I managed to avoid Julian. It was strange how there was just the two of us on the boat, yet I made myself vanish whenever I wanted to. Or unless he allowed me that little peace. Whatever it was, I enjoyed the tranquil time to myself. Although I sourly missed him in bed at night. Julian never came to me again. So I had to pleasure myself just to get a good night's sleep.
I gained a better understanding of his character during my time away from civilization. He was like air. He was there, easily possessed, but very hard to capture. His composition was made of distinct personalities. His mannerism and speech were more relaxed. He wasn’t as strict or rigid compared to when he wore his business suit.
I didn’t find it boring keeping my own company during those few days. I spent a lot of my time lazing around in the spa bath, washing myself and gazing out into the blue ocean outside. Other times I spent inside my room, reading books, his books, which I found in the yacht.
What I found to be interesting was his thirst for knowledge. He had books on different aspects of life. From economics to psychology to science. It was like he was interested in people’s personal behavior but also the need to be successful. It was like he wanted to be recognized by people around him. He was an overachiever.
The sea was smooth sailing in those few days. I was relaxed and in my own world. Even at night, the gentle motion of the sea lured me to sleep.
I started wearing panties now. Or more like Julian’s shorts, strung tight at the waist with a tie I found in his drawers. There was no way I was going commando with him in the same vicinity. I’d learned that lesson before. I wasn't about to repeat that mistake.
On the third day, later that afternoon, as I lay out on the deck with a book in hand and the sun on my pale skin, Julian appeared in front of me for the first time, informing me dinner was ready.
It was strange, but I never had to cook on the yacht. Yes, on our first day, we had tuna in a can, but subsequently, the meals were quite lavish.
For breakfast, I had eggs benedict. The eggs were even well poached.
I ate alone.
Lunch was a selection of cheese with bread, with salad drizzled with a superb vinaigrette.
I also ate alone.
Now dinner. I was already anticipating the meal.
But I wondered if I’d be dining alone again.
As I expected, dinner really was lavish. A succulent seared steak with salad. My favorite. But what had my saliva pooling in my mouth was Julian. In an apron.
Which meant I wouldn’t be dining alone tonight.
I'd never seen a guy wearing an apron in person before. Papa was hardly in the kitchen, and the guys I used to date only lived on takeaway. But Julian, he was something else.
I sat watching him, mesmerized by his movements as he prepared our drinks.
Again, he was wearing his skintight denim, his ass curving at just the right angle, making my hand it
ch to squeeze it. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt with a V-neck, and his broad chest was so well defined, it killed me to be so far away from him. But I couldn’t touch him.
“What would you like, Kimberly?” he asked.
I was too busy ogling him to reply.
“Kimberly, what drink would you like?”
“Huh? What? Oh, what have you got?” I quickly controlled myself.
He held up a bottle of champagne.
How does he know I like champagne?
“That'll do,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.
Julian poured me a glass, placed the wine in front of me, and went to pour himself his Pinot Noir.
He took the seat in front of me, fork and knife on either side of him. If I guessed it right, this whole atmosphere, with the dimmed lights and sparkling fake candles on the table, I would assume he was trying to bribe me so he could get into my pants again. Or agree to that relationship he talked about on the first day.
I snorted. I couldn’t go into a relationship with him. I needed to trust him. Which at this stage, I could not.
Does that mean we’re fuck buddies, then? He did mention that before.
The thought caused a sting to my heart. I didn’t want to be his fuck buddy. I wanted a real relationship with him, based on love and trust. But what we had now were lust and lies.
“Eat your food, Kimberly.” Julian’s baritone awakened me from my thoughts. I ignored him and drank some more of my champagne. Julian wouldn’t let me drink in comfort. He started talking again. “There are kids in third-world countries who are more than willing to eat your food.”
“What do you know of kids in Africa or Cambodia or Thailand? What do you know of kids who suffer from hunger?” I asked, trying to angle my question just to be able to get to know him better. I was thirsty for any information he could offer about himself. I craved to know him more. As a person. Not as a fuck buddy.
“Nothing,” he said, no expression on his face. “But I know not to waste my food when it’s put in front of me. So eat it.”
