by Hazel Parker
Fuck.
This was going to be difficult.
“Can I take my blindfold off now?” I said, but the man still ignored me.
That was part of it, too. Not being able to see heightened my other senses. And my sense of touch…oh boy.
We took another turn, and the man twisted his arm and accelerated full-speed ahead. The sudden burst of vibration between my legs…
“Ah!” I said, trying to bite my lip before the noise got too loud.
But he’d done it. Somehow, without taking any clothes off, without intentionally seducing me, without doing anything more than rescuing my life, this man had brought me to orgasm on his bike. Oh, fuck, that felt good to have that release after only doing it in my dreams.
Oh, fuck. This was…
This was something fucking else.
“Oh, damn,” I said.
He still didn’t respond. But he had to have known. This hero of the night had to have known what had just happened to me, what he had just brought me to do.
And if he had any resemblance of a sex drive—which, come on, he was an agent of some kind, of course he fucking did—well…
We slowed down. We rolled forward, seemingly only going a few miles per hour, before we turned. Finally, here, the man killed the bike.
“Come,” he said after he hopped off. “Give me your hand.”
I did as commanded. My entire body still tingled and buzzed with the pleasant come-down that followed orgasm. He roughly pulled me to wherever we were, but I just wanted to lie down and feel the warmth of the climax envelop my body. Maybe even cuddle with this dude.
OK, maybe not that much, but it was undeniable that I had a pleasantly skewed perspective on this guy right now.
“Where are we?” I said, probably sounding like I was high.
“Somewhere safe. For now. And that’s all you need to know.”
He opened a door and led me inside. The room was air-conditioned and at a pleasant temperature. He locked the door behind me, sounding like he was going through multiple locks. I moved my hands up to take the blindfold off, but he barked, “Don’t!” and I quickly dropped them back to the side.
“Is it your goal to keep me blindfolded from now until death do I part?” I said. “Let me guess. I’m not going to be able to take this off until I forget what I look like, and then there’s going to be some big dramatic moment where I do take it off, and I’m like, oh my God, I can’t believe—”
The man firmly grabbed me by the waist and led me to the side. He did it with such force and such aggression, I really thought I’d finally cracked him. After escaping gunfire and the ocean, I guess my sass was finally the thing that got him to crack.
A door opened. He led me inside. He stepped back.
“When you hear the door shut, you can take off your blindfold,” he said. “This is your room. Get comfortable and do whatever you need to do. I’ll be back soon.”
“You’ll be back?” I said in surprise. “So I’ll finally get to see the Prince Charming that rescued me? No longer will I have to wonder which anony—”
I didn’t even get to finish my words when the door shut. I almost wondered if this was a test, like if I actually wasn’t supposed to take the blindfold off to prove my obedience. Funny, wasn’t it, how I kept wanting to remove it when we were in danger, but now that I was alone…
Ah, fuck it.
I reached up, yanked on the blindfold—the man had wrapped it around my head pretty damn well—and shoved it over my head, ruffling my hair.
I could see.
I could fucking see!
And the first thing I saw was that I actually had an honest-to-God, real comfortable bed.
The bed had purple and black sheets, throw pillows, nightstands by it…it wasn’t a luxury hotel by any means, because, once again, I still didn’t have any windows, but compared to the prison cell on the yacht, this felt like one of those high-rise luxury hotels in a vacation destination.
And on top of that, I had furniture! I had a couch, I had a clothes drawer, I had…I had…
A bathroom.
Oh, my, God.
Final-fucking-ly.
I peeked my head in. Still no windows.
But it had shampoo and conditioner and body wash already there. I was in fucking heaven!
I didn’t think my life could get any more ridiculous right now. But at least now, it was ridiculous in the good sense.
Chapter 7: Scott
What a little spitfire.
That girl is going to be the death of either rule three or me, period. I’m not sure which yet. Probably both at this rate.
I told her not to take the blindfold off until I had left in part because I knew if she laid eyes on me, for how fucking aroused I was by her and how much I wanted to fuck her, I would have no shot. Scott from DOM had never failed to adhere to his third rule before, but now…holy fuck, this little brat.
I wanted to go into that room, tie a gag around that sexy little mouth—after she sucked my cock, of course—and then take her however I wanted.
And I could not.
There were plenty of obvious reasons why. Sure, she was not technically my client, her mother was, but if Liam and my other agents used that loophole, we’d be DOMs of a very different kind, and most importantly, not the kind that got seven- and eight-figure checks to do our work. I’d already fucked up with her knowing the sound of my voice, though that was a more malleable guideline given the near impossibility of it in stress. We were not God.
If she knew what I looked like…
If she let me fuck her while she was blindfolded…
That was it.
I could not take this sexual tension anymore. I had to get fucking release. I had to…
Well, I didn’t really want anyone but Kaylie Charleston right now. And when I got picky about who I wanted, you could have put a porn star with double-D breasts naked before me and I probably would have passed. At first, at least. I’m not that fucking crazy.
But boy, she’s making me consider it.
I headed to my own private room, in disbelief at what I was about to do. I locked the door, stripped naked, and headed for the bathroom, found some lube, thought of taking Kaylie for myself, and started stroking.
I closed my eyes as I thought of putting my hand on her throat, holding her against the bed, and thrusting deep inside. God, she’d feel so fucking warm and wet. Her groans would be such a fucking turn-on, too; I bet that little brat screeched and shouted during sex. I wouldn’t want her to make noise in real life, but in my imagination, she was my wild animal to tame.
She’d try and resist, but I would never let her. I had complete control over her, something I never fucking gave up. When I got tired of missionary, I pulled out and flipped her on her stomach. I took her with ease, tightly squeezing those curvy hips, smacking that thick ass, and pounding her wet pussy.
I felt myself reach the point of no return. My breathing quickened, and the thought of coming inside Kaylie was the only thing on my mind. I’d shoot my entire load into her. She’d take all of it, the little brat. I’d make her fucking—
“Mine!” I grunted out loud as I came in the shower stall.
Holy fuck! I groaned as I shot a few more ropes of cum out onto the shower floor. And when I finished, I was left in disbelief.
I had not violated rule three.
But fuck me, I had never, ever, ever done anything like this before. I had never masturbated to the thought of a client. I had never even thought about any other client beyond the scope of a rescue.
And now, here I was, jerking myself off to the thought of being inside her, all while the mission was still ongoing and she was a mere twenty, thirty feet at most in another room.
What the fuck was going on?
I took a quick shower to clean the floor and myself after being covered in saltwater and Kaylie’s body scent, but just because I could wash away the physical signs didn’t mean I could so easily wash away
the mental ones. I had to refocus myself, tell myself to do what the job called for, and get her the fuck to safety. In a week’s time, when I was in Maine…or Washington…or back here…or somewhere else in the world, with a cool extra ten million dollars, I wouldn’t even remember this brat’s name. Her body, sure. Her face, maybe.
Her name? Nah.
You know that’s some fucking wishful thinking.
I turned off the shower, put some clothes on before the temptation to walk over naked to Kaylie consumed me, and went to one of the drawers in my room. I grabbed one of the burner phones, activated the voice modulator, and called Kaylie’s mother, pulling her number from memory. It was going to be late at night for her, but I didn’t fucking care. She needed to know how her daughter was.
And I needed to talk to someone who was decidedly not particularly sexy to erase what had just happened.
“He-hello?” Mother Charleston said after just one ring.
The woman sounded frazzled as if disappointed that her daughter hadn’t just magically shown back up after she’d put the order in. I was an agent, not a fucking wizard.
“I have her,” I said. “She is safe.”
“Kaylie?” Mother Charleston said.
I didn’t say anything back. She knew.
“Oh, my God! Thank the Lord, thank heavens. Thank you, thank you.”
“Hmm.”
“Where is she? When can I see her?”
When I first started in this field, these were the questions that sucked. You’d done your job, but not all the way. Now, I had enough experience to remain detached.
Well, that was, before that curvy little princess got in my way.
“I cannot tell you where we are for our safety,” I said. “However, she will phone you in fifteen minutes to confirm that she is healthy and fine. You will then get instructions on how to send five payments of two million dollars to five different accounts. I will text you the numbers you need. Once the accounts have received the money, I will bring her home.”
I heard a hitch on the line. This wasn’t the first time I heard the retort that was about to come.
“So you’re not going to bring her home until I pay you? So we’re back to where we started?”
“No,” I said firmly. “As I said, Kaylie will call you to ensure she is safe and well-fed. She is no longer captive. But I need to ensure I received payment. And once that happens, Kaylie will be to you within twenty-four hours.”
Mother Charleston sighed on the other end of the line. I felt some sympathy for her; I did. I just didn’t feel enough to show it to her or to change mission protocol.
“And how can I trust you?”
Another common question. Another easy answer.
“You have no choice but to at this point,” I said.
“But—”
“That’s the way it is.”
Mother Charleston had probably never been bossed around like this. Most of the people I worked with weren’t until they dealt with me.
That’s what they got for working with DOM. Deo Optimo Maximo. Not minimo.
The greatest and best god.
Maybe a little egotistical, but certainly indicative of the dominating attitudes that we used on the job.
In any case, my words seemed to have stunned Mother Charleston into silence. It was time to wrap up this phone call with the last few things I needed to say.
“Again, she will phone you in fifteen minutes. And as a reminder, if you repeat this to anyone, if there is any evidence of my presence or my mission, you will never see her again.”
Because she will be mine and mine alone. And I will do whatever the fuck I want with her, and she will like it.
“Oh, OK.”
I hung up just as it sounded like Mother Charleston had something more to say, but it didn’t much matter to me. The call was to inform her of what she needed to know, not host a town hall Q&A. I dropped the phone on the desk, grabbed a hammer from a nearby closet, and smashed the phone to bits. I found every last chip and other electronic piece I could and smashed those even further before throwing it in the garbage.
I had, as far as I was concerned, eliminated any ability to have that phone traced.
And, for a very brief moment, maybe ten or so minutes before I had to get Kaylie on the line with her mother, I had a respite. Even DOM agents needed downtime here and there.
I headed to the fridge in the main room, grabbed a Guinness, and went outside to sit on a well-covered, dark porch. The sounds of helicopters could still be heard in the far distance, and though this outpost had significant protection and was difficult to find even by my agents, I knew that getting off this damn island was going to prove nearly impossible alone.
By now, Snake and his men had probably found my plane. They would not have killed my pilot—they only escalated up to the levels I went to—but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t prevent him from flying. They would have eyes on all public exits, so it wasn’t like I could just take her to the airport or bribe someone rich at a dock.
I’d have to call in help from DOM.
I’d only sat down for maybe thirty seconds when I got right back up, went back to my room, and pulled out another burner phone. This time, I kept the hammer outside of my closet, knowing full well I’d need it soon. I dialed a number I’d had committed to memory long before I ever knew who the Charleston family was.
I was turning to my most trusted sidekick.
“Yes,” the voice on the other end of the line said, also using a voice modulator.
“Liam, I’m at Safe House Four,” I said. “I’ve got Snake on my tail, and he seems pretty hellbent on getting the package. Getting off this island alone is going to be impossible. Any ideas?”
Liam groaned on the other end of the line. Liam could be just as controlling and dominating as I was, though he tended to have a slightly warmer exterior than I did.
Slightly. He wasn’t going to be dressing up as Santa at the mall.
“Jesus Christ, it’s the middle of the fucking night, and you want me to come up with some ideas?”
“Yes.”
I heard him groaning as he rose out of what sounded like his bed. It wasn’t like he had any family or a wife to attend to. I knew he, like all of our agents, flew as a solo man.
“All right,” he said. “But you’re going to have to give me some time. Hang low for a few days and I will figure it out here.”
Hang low for a few days. A few days with Kaylie Charleston was going to be a far harder—literally—test than anything I would have done with Snake. That girl could push me in ways that no woman ever had, and I couldn’t even tell you why. It wasn’t like this was the first hot young thing I’d ever rescued. Nor was it the first woman who had ever given me sass and fire like she had.
I guess you could say it was just the combination of everything that made her so damn difficult to say no to. For once in my life, I was stumped to give a full answer, because anything more than that just felt incomplete.
“Make it faster, Liam,” I said. “Snake already knows the island I’m on. It’s only a matter of time before he canvasses the whole damn place.”
“Understood, boss, I’ll be in touch.”
With that, we hung up. I again put my phone on the furniture, smashed it to bits, stuffed it into the trash, and sighed.
Across the building, probably just bored, waiting to talk to her mom or to do something, was Kaylie Charleston. And given how much she stank, she was probably taking a shower right now.
And…
Fuck. I was getting hard again. It was as if I hadn’t even rubbed one out to the very thought of her. All of that work to try and release some sexual tension had, apparently, only increased it ten-fold.
I stepped outside, figuring if I kept my eyes on the sky and my ears to my surroundings, I’d be too focused to think about that little brat. I even grabbed my half-finished Guinness and focused on the taste of it, trying to turn my brain to anything but her.
But then I looked down at the time. It had been about twelve minutes since I’d told Mother Charleston that her daughter would be speaking to her on the phone. I was, above all else, a man of my word and a man who did things promptly.
Fuck, this was going to kill me.
Chapter 8: Kaylie
It felt so good to be naked.
As soon as I saw that I had everything I needed for a full shower, I just stripped. I didn’t even get in the shower at first. It just felt so damn liberating to not have any clothes on!
No more sweaty, gross, days-old pajamas that I had to wear. I could just let my body breathe. And oh my God, I just did a little dance in the room because I was free!
And, I could not lie, I was fucking aroused like a cat in heat. Being naked like this, and knowing that man was just a few feet away…fuck, I wish he hadn’t sounded so stern and so insistent on his stupid rules. I wish he hadn’t acted like a man who would not bend to me. Because trust me, I could make him bend to my will if I got him in here.
Although, in a way, I hoped that if that happened, he wouldn’t fold. He didn’t seem like the type to, but I liked a man who overpowered me.
But as fun as it was just standing there naked, no clothes, no nothing, I did smell. And I did still have the remains of saltwater on my body and sand on my feet. I needed to clean off and feel like a normal human being again.
I headed to the shower, turned on the water to slightly above “hot,” and stepped inside.
“Ohhhh,” I murmured as I felt the rush of hot water run down my hair, down my back, against my ass, and to the floor. I didn’t know that it was possible to feel goosebumps when it was that hot around you, but I sure damn well did.
And then I stepped back just a bit, and the water slid over my face, down my neck, over my breasts, down my stomach, past my pussy, over my legs, touching my feet…
Oh, this was better than some sex I’d had, and it wasn’t even close. Sex was always hit or miss depending on the guy. A shower after what felt like two weeks of nothing was pure bliss, ecstasy, a real haven of sorts.
