Passion Flower: 1

by Sindra van Yssel

  “That’s all there is to it.”

  He shrugged. “Well, I’m not busy now. You’re going for a ride.” He picked her up suddenly and put her over his shoulder before she had a chance to protest. Butt up in the air, her legs dangled in front of him and her head was behind. It actually wasn’t a bad angle to view his ass from. She shrieked and tried to kick, but he had a firm grasp on her ankles.

  I’m in trouble now. She could wiggle off his shoulder if she wanted, but that would only lead to an awkward fall and him picking her up again. That stopped her for a moment. Then she decided that even if the ground below were as soft as a pillow, she didn’t want to leave his shoulder. She’d never met anyone else who could pick her up like that. Her mind raced. Was he going to spank her?

  I hope so.

  Now where the heck did that come from? But the wish was answered by a heat in her chest and moisture between her legs. She wanted him to make her ass red, to make her break down and confess. And then hold her and tell her it was all okay. If only she could be sure of the latter.

  They reached the pool. The men had joined Amber and Rhonda. Rhonda had lost what little swimsuit she’d been wearing before and was in the water giving some guy Natalie had never seen before a blowjob. The new guy was sitting on the edge of the pool, his feet dangling in the water.

  Tom, meanwhile, was standing with Amber a few feet away from the pool, holding her against him while Kyle whipped her with a big black flogger. The sound of it whacking on her skin made Natalie wince, but she caught sight of Amber’s face and there was a relaxed contentment there.

  “Afternoon,” said Carter as he walked past.

  She would have thought the man on the edge of the pool would have been far too preoccupied but he turned his head to stare at her. Maybe he was looking at Carter, but no, she was pretty sure he was looking at her, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to figure out a puzzle. In any normal place, Carter carrying her over her shoulder should have attracted stares, but here? Nothing complicated. Him Tarzan, me Jane.

  She giggled.

  The man turned away as Carter opened the door into the house. Apparently Rhonda had done something to get his attention back. Whether that was a bite or something more pleasant, she didn’t know, because after Carter carried her in he took her right up the stairs and out of sight.

  “Are you angry that I went out and explored?” she asked after he’d pushed open the door to her bedroom. It shouldn’t matter, but she didn’t want him to be angry.

  He shook his head. “Why should I be angry? I’m not actually angry at you about anything. This,” he paused and smiled, “is more about lust.”

  “Oh.” Her pussy went from damp to sodden.

  “I’m beginning to regret deciding not to come in you until you tell me your secret, however.” He kept carrying her right on into the bathroom, where he set her down. They stood facing each other. He gazed at her for a moment with naked lust in his eyes.

  “You could give in,” she said. She wondered if she could seduce him into doing that. He was so different. She’d never met a man whose own pleasure didn’t come first. “You could come in my pussy. Or in my mouth.” She licked her lips.

  “Or maybe I’d like to come in your ass. Or on your breasts. I can, you know. Anywhere I want to. I don’t think for a moment that you’d safe word.”

  She gulped. He was right, she knew. “Yes.”

  “That’s Yes Sir.”

  “Yes Sir.”

  “But you’d have to give in, first, and let me know what I want to know.”

  “Never, Sir,” she said. She wondered if he wasn’t right. But how could he be? He couldn’t make her say anything, no matter how strong he was.

  “Oh yes, you will.” Abruptly he grabbed the camisole she wore and yanked it over her head. Then he did the same with her shorts, pulling them down. He spent a second looking over her naked body and then turned away toward the bathtub, unable to hide a smile. He turned the water on and put his hand under the stream to test the water.

  She kicked the useless shorts off from around her ankles. She would have made a mess on the floor if she’d walked, she supposed, with all the mud on her. No wonder he carried her. It had been a fun ride though. Maybe she’d have to get dirty more often.

  He looked over at her. “Climbing in willingly, or do I have to dump you in?”

  She started to say he’d have to force her. But as much as she enjoyed feeling his strength, she really didn’t want to fight him over everything. “I’ll cooperate, Sir,” she said softly and stepped into the water. It was hot, almost but not quite too hot, but she settled down into it.

  She reached for the soap as the water poured in but he grabbed her wrist. “You aren’t washing yourself, Natalie. I’m taking care of you. You’re mine.”

  Her tummy flipped. His. How wonderful that sounded. She was silly to respond to that so strongly when she was only there for another week, but Submission Island was all about fantasies. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge. “Yes Sir. Yours.”

  The soap smelled of light perfume as he rubbed it over her upper body. She wished he’d lingered longer on her breasts but there was something almost workmanlike about the way he went about washing her. But still, she was naked and being washed by a handsome man. She wasn’t complaining.

  “Turn your back toward me,” he said.

  She obeyed. He soaped up her back again then scrubbed it until it was slightly tender. Then he turned her back and did the same for her legs, lifting each one out of the water and scrubbing it in turn. She’d probably never been so clean; she certainly didn’t pay this much attention to herself. It was usually in and out of the shower as fast as she could get on with her day.

  His reached under the water, between her legs. She arched up for him, letting him work up a lather on her mound, feeling how his soap-slickened fingers slid against her clit. This time he did linger. She caught him looking at her face and wondered what kind of reaction he saw, because she was feeling short of breath. Pushing her pussy up for him to play with was utterly shameless and yet freeing at the same time. She could do what she wanted with him. She could be open with her desires. As long as they didn’t involve orchids. She pushed that exception out of her mind. This wasn’t about that.

  “All clean. Now I want to shave your pussy bare, Natalie. Come out of the water and I’ll dry you off.”

  She’d thought of shaving herself there before, but it always seemed too much bother. Now he was going to do it to her and she’d be on display for him while he did. Her heart raced. She wasn’t beautiful “down there”—at least she didn’t think so. Not that she felt exactly beautiful anywhere. But still, it was what he wanted.

  She let him help her out of the tub. He wrapped a towel around her and rubbed her vigorously with it. This time he lingered on her breasts more than was needed for cleanliness. The towel was a pleasant roughness against her nipples, bringing them to attention despite the fact that it was warm and steamy in the bathroom.

  He dried all of her thoroughly, except for her mound and her pussy, and then tied the towel around her so that her torso was covered. He folded another bath towel and draped it over the edge of the tub. “Sit.”

  “Yes Sir.” She sat, legs primly together.

  He opened the medicine cabinet and got out a razor, a fresh blade and some shaving cream. The sight of it made her shiver. Was she really going to let him take that between her legs? Yes, she was. And the thought made her pussy tingle and slicken. Dammit.

  “Spread your legs.”

  She should have expected that. Blushing, she separated her knees until she thought he had enough room to do what he intended.

  He met her gaze and held it, although she wanted to look away. “I want a verbal response too.”

  A verbal response? Oh. “Yes Sir.”

  “Good girl. Wider.”

  She spread her knees an inch farther apart.

  He grinned. “Much wider.”

  She
didn’t move. “How much room do you need?” At a warning glance from him, she added, “Sir?”

  “It’s not a question of how much I need. It’s a matter of what I want. I have plenty of room. Wider.”

  “Yes Sir.” She spread them until she could feel the muscles in her thighs complain, and held the position as best she could.

  He knelt on the bathmat and worked the shaving cream into her mound with his fingers. They glided along the edge of her pussy lips, spreading the white floral-scented foam around.

  He looked up at her. “You trust me for this.”

  It was a statement, not a question, but she felt she should answer. “Yes Sir.” She did too. Despite her secret, he’d done nothing bad to her.

  He chuckled. “And yet, you don’t trust me with why you jumped out a window. You can, you know. If you can do the one, you can do the other. Think about it.” He brought the razor to her mound.

  She started to think about it, but when the blade skimmed along the surface of her skin all rational thought went away. She knew when he was done she was going to be more exposed than ever, her last concealment gone. Stranger still, she wanted it. She wanted him to see everything, to hide nothing from him. He was safe. Even with a blade near her most sensitive parts, he was safe.

  He turned on the tap, rinsed off the razor and returned to his task. One stroke at a time, the razor swept white foam from her body, and with that her pubic hair, until the last follicle was shorn away. Then he took the wet towel from the bath and mopped up the leftover cream. Every nerve was heightened. Each touch of the towel or his fingers sent shivers through her.

  He slid two fingers into her and her pussy yielded easily to accept them. He kissed her newly bare skin, just above her clit. She shuddered and wrapped her legs around him, putting her hands flat on the bottom of the tub for balance. He pushed another finger into her, stretching her. She used her legs to pull herself forward, driving his fingers farther in, bumping her newly shaven skin against the rough knuckles where his fingers met his hand.

  “That’s it, love. Fuck my hand while I lick your clit.”

  True to his word, he flicked his tongue in a way that sent sparks into her core. Embarrassed but turned-on, she rocked her hips. He kept his hand almost still, so her motions drove his fingers in and out of her.

  His tongue swirled around her clit and then lashed it again. She wondered if he’d stop if she kept moving. She didn’t want to take the chance. Besides, his fingers felt good sliding in and out of her too. Good girls didn’t want it so badly, did they? She guessed she wasn’t a good girl anymore, because the desire that was rising in her was unquenchable. She’d do almost anything to get off. Anything he wanted.

  He stopped. “Tell me what I want to know, love.”

  Anything but that. If she told him about the orchid, he might not want to have anything to do with her at all. “I can’t.” It brought her close to tears. She almost couldn’t bear to look at him.

  His face softened. “Then don’t. I’ll find out. Come for me, Natalie.”

  He bent down and stroked his tongue across her clit once more, and she came like a rocket. Her legs tightened around him and held him as firmly as she could, and he had to quickly put his arm behind her back to stop her from crashing her head against the end of the tub. She screamed and she didn’t care who heard her or who knew what they were doing.

  She didn’t want to give this up. Not ever. No, that wasn’t quite right. She didn’t want to give him up.

  He pulled her off the bathtub to cradle her in his arms. He got up and walked to the bed. Softly, he put her down and sat down beside her.

  She tried to stop the tears from coming to her eyes. She had to give him up. Everything they had was built on a lie, on what she wasn’t telling him. Even if this fantasy of Submission Island could have lasted longer than a couple of weeks, which was doubtful, there was too big a gulf between them. She wanted to tell him, to trust him. But she already knew his answer to doing research on the island, because the university had gotten it months ago. No.

  At least by keeping the secret, she could enjoy the fantasy for one more week. She snuggled against him, closed her eyes and tried to pretend nothing mattered but the moment.

  Chapter Seven

  Natalie had been faking at first—not her orgasm, but sleeping. She was avoiding talking to him, he suspected. But now she really was asleep, and Carter managed to slip his smart phone out of his pocket. He knew he couldn’t get a signal. The closest cell phone tower was a hundred miles away. But the little island had internet through a satellite dish, and he could retrieve his email via wireless.

  As he’d hoped, there was mail from Roger. He read through it carefully, noting every detail.

  He slipped his arm out from under Natalie. She stirred but she didn’t wake. He waited, standing patiently, until her breathing returned to a gentle snore. Not the most ladylike of noises, but he thought it was kind of pleasant, enough to remind him when he was sleeping next to her that she was there and resting. He’d miss that, when she left.

  He frowned. He wasn’t supposed to miss the girls. In fact, often by the time the two weeks were up, he was more than ready to see them go, having had his fill. Maybe that would be the case in a few days with Natalie, but he really didn’t think so.

  He went to the safe in her room and bent his ear to it, listening to the tumblers, keeping a watch on Natalie. Once she rolled over and he froze, trying to look casual. Then he had to start over. He pulled out her passport and took a look at the town listed. Oak Park, Illinois. The university that the proposal had come from was in Chicago, although it was a big state and he didn’t know where Oak Park was. He put the passport back, closed the safe without locking it and pulled out his phone again.

  The two were less than ten miles apart.

  He held back a chuckle.

  I think I have you pegged, my sweet little sub. The time for deception is almost over.

  The thought passed through his mind that maybe everything Natalie did with him was an act to get access to the island. But he shook it off. Her orgasms weren’t fake. Her pleasure in yielding when he took control wasn’t fake either. He was willing to bet on it.

  He relocked the safe and sat back down on the edge of the bed. Reluctantly, he shook Natalie awake.

  “Huh?”

  He’d give her one last chance. “Do you want to tell me what you’re up to?”

  She shook her head, not even bothering to dissemble this time.

  “Okay. I think the guys have something planned for this evening, so I’m going to let you sleep on your own tonight. Dinner is at seven, which is in an hour.”

  He was surprised that her face registered immediate disappointment. Maybe she was that good of an actress. But no, the disappointment was replaced with a sly grin, which she then tried to hide. Not a very good actress at all. “Yes, Master.”

  He nodded and got up. “If you want to talk before then, let me know.” God, she looked good lounging on the bed naked. And that little smile had made him want to fuck her silly. The last few days of holding out had taken their toll.

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  He turned and walked out before he could change his mind.

  * * * * *

  Natalie lay in bed. Dinner had been delicious, coq au vin done to perfection. She’d played hearts downstairs with Kyle and Amber, and had decided that maybe they weren’t all bad after all. Then she’d gone to her room and waited. It was nearly midnight.

  She got up, put on a bra, a garter belt, stockings, sandals and a baby doll dress with long sleeves. Not exactly a standard adventurer’s outfit, but it covered the vast majority of her skin, although the stockings would probably be ripped all to hell when she was done.

  She opened the safe and reached for her key ring.

  Cautiously, she opened her door. No one there.

  She tiptoed down the hall, past Rhonda’s room. She could hear the woman moaning. And a man grunting.
No, men.

  Carter. No wonder he wasn’t sleeping with her tonight. She tried to tell herself the thought shouldn’t be making her gut twist in knots, but it did. She bent to listen at the door and make sure, but she really didn’t want to hear him make love to another woman. She couldn’t blame him, really. She wasn’t in a relationship with him. She wasn’t even being honest with him. But he still meant something to her, and she wanted to mean something to him. Now that she thought about it, there had been an air of finality in the way he asked her if she wanted to come clean earlier in the evening.

  She wiped at her watering eyes. That’s it then. She knew herself better than to think she’d forgive him, even if she had no claim. She wasn’t a sharing person when it came to sex. It’s all about the orchid now.

  She tiptoed downstairs. The good news was with the men busy she was free. As she expected, there wasn’t a soul in the living room. She looked out the glass door and there was no one at the swimming pool this time either. Four men and three women on an island, and how many do I get? Zero. She paused. The orchid, dammit. I care about the orchid.

  She tried the door. Still unlocked, it slid open easily. She pulled it almost shut behind her, wanting to make sure she could open it as silently as possible when she got back. She wasn’t getting sleep tonight, but that was okay. Although Carter might notice. Maybe I can tell him I don’t sleep as well without him. Then she frowned. Screw that. He’s never getting in my bed again. He can have that bouncy, curvy Aussie chick like everyone else.

  She made her way toward the jungle, using the moonlight to guide her. She wasn’t sure how long the flashlight would last, but the manufacturer said two hours, and she wasn’t going to waste it before she needed to. Once she got on the path, however, she flicked it on. It lit only a narrow area, and that dimly, but at least she could point it where she was about to step. Maybe it had been for the best that her first foray hadn’t worked. This time she knew the path, had the sandals Carter had given her, she wasn’t wet and she had a flashlight.