by Hazel Parker
And what I wouldn’t give to have that man come in here right now, press me up against the shower wall, and just fucking take me.
I was so horny. I was so aroused. I had to have some kind of release. I just fucking had to, because if I did not, I was going to violate this man’s every rule, jump his bones, and then make him regret ever rescuing me.
I leaned against one of the walls, grabbed the showerhead—which, thank fucking God, detached—and held it near my clit as my other hand worked to rub me off.
I thought about the man…which was funny, since I didn’t even know what he looked like. But I could make some pretty educated guesses. I imagined a tall, muscular man with a beard and a buzzcut up top. I imagined him in this shower, pressing up against me, his cock erect and sliding around my clit.
“Oh, yes,” I said, both in my fantasy and out loud.
The man slid his cock into me and held me in place, just as he had so firmly held me while he was rescuing me. His thick cock filled me, grinding and sliding inside of me, bringing the tension and warm gush to a head. I tried looking up at him, but the intensity was so much I could only close my eyes as it washed over me.
“Oh, fuck.”
And then, just when I thought he was going to make me come, he pulled out, spun me around, and took me from behind. His hands tightened around my hips, holding me in place. In a matter of a minute, we were coming—together.
And in real life, my pussy clenched, my body trembled, and warmth spread through me as I came.
“Oh, yes, oh, fuck,” I said as quietly as I could—which probably wasn’t that quietly to begin with.
It was too damn bad that this fantasy wasn’t realistic. He found me annoying as hell and was only talking to me because he had a job to do. But if he knew how badly I wanted him…
I had to center myself. I had to be, well, not a good girl, but I had to be focused on getting myself off this island and back to my mother. I had to remain calm and do as I was told.
I went through the normal routine of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. I was in absolutely no rush whatsoever to finish the shower early; I took my sweet time. If the water bill got abnormally high, well, I was sure Mom was paying a pretty penny to this guy to rescue me.
It was only when I knew I was as clean as someone in a decontamination room that I ended the shower, grabbed a nearby towel, and wiped myself down. When I grabbed the towel, I smelled something…familiar.
Him.
It smells like him.
If masturbating in the shower had been meant to eliminate or at least mitigate the sexual thoughts I had about my rescuer, that were flying out the window right now as I took in the scent of this man. Oh, this was damn near impossible. First, he had a sexy and mysterious voice that loved to boss me around. And now his scent followed me everywhere I went?
I had to see what he looked like. I had to try and sneak a peek. I had to see if the man looked like I imagined he did in my sexual fantasies—or maybe even better. Maybe if I pried open the door…
I walked out to the bedroom. Though there were some new clothes I could put on, I was in no rush to put clothes on. Maybe I could sneak that peek with only some pajamas on. Maybe if—
A loud knock came at the door. I was so startled that I didn’t respond at first.
“Kaylie.”
It was him. My heart was still beating like a drum in a heavy metal song, but at least I knew I wasn’t about to be kidnapped or mugged. And sure enough, his voice still sounded sexy and commanding as fuck.
But now, my heart was pounding for a different reason. This was what I had wanted. Opportunity. Opportunity for him to come in, take my naked body, make a fantasy a reality…
“Come in,” I said in what was probably too flirtatious and playful a tone.
“Turn around first.”
Does he know I’m just standing here in a towel? Wouldn’t put it past him with all the spy stuff.
“Why would you want me to do—”
“I said turn around,” he said, not in an angry tone, but one that made it very clear he was not to be trifled with. “If you want to talk to your mother, you will turn around. I cannot have you seeing my face.”
“Ugh! You have such ridiculous rules!”
I did want to talk to my mother, I truly did. I would obey this man and do as he asked—but maybe…
Well, I had ways of teasing him and making life difficult while obeying him.
“OK, fine,” I said as I turned around.
And also dropped the towel.
“I’m serious, Kaylie,” he said. “If I come in and catch you looking at me, you will not see your mother again.”
“Christ, I get it,” I said, a little concerned with how over-the-top that threat seemed but nevertheless understanding his point. “I promise I am turned away. I will not look at you when you come in here.”
The door opened.
“Oh, Jesus, for fuck’s sake.”
I put my hands on my mouth to avoid laughing too hard. I wasn’t going to turn around, but I was dying to see how aroused the sight of my bare ass was making him. I didn’t want to sound too arrogant, but I kept myself in shape and knew how to make myself look pretty; I knew what kind of an effect I was having.
And let me tell you, just as being naked before was a turn-on when I was alone, knowing that there was my rescuer probably no more than ten feet away having the reaction that he did was making me so damn horny. My pussy was tightening at the thought of his cock trying to bulge through his pants.
And yet…
And yet, he wasn’t saying anything more. To his credit, or perhaps to his detriment, he was remaining professional. He was a man who had a mission.
And unfortunately for me, that was just making it all the hotter. Knowing that I was driving him nuts, and yet he was able to somehow stay in control, was so fucking hot. I was getting more and more tempted by the moment to turn around and see his face.
But if anyone would follow through on a threat to never let me see my family again, it was the man who had taken out an entire yacht’s worth of men and rescued me out in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.
“I am leaving the phone on the desk behind you with international calling instructions,” he said. He spoke much more slowly and much more deliberately than usual, as if he had to exercise extreme caution with every word. And that was probably with damn good reason. “Call your mother. You have ten minutes before the phone will cut off and I will be back for it.”
So he is coming back. Maybe if he forgets to tell me not to look at him, I’ll—
“And for fuck’s sake, put some clothes on. I’m here to rescue you, not put you on display for an art class.”
I smirked. I’d already come this far. What was the worst that could happen?
“Or what?” I said with a huge smile on my face.
“Or I will shove you on the bed and make you mine.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
He wants this as bad as I do. And if he takes it, he’s going to be even more aggressive than I imagined him to be.
“That sounds like a promise,” I said, but the words came out weakly. I was so shocked and stunned by him—not to mention somehow even wetter; I felt like I could climax just from hearing him talk—that I could barely form complete sentences myself.
A pause came. There was a hitch in the man’s throat, like he realized he hadn’t meant to say those words.
“For fuck’s sake,” he finally said before slamming the door shut and locking it from the outside.
My legs were so weak with excitement I actually had to sit on the floor and process what had just happened. So the man did have a breaking point. And if I pushed hard enough, said breaking point was not too far off. And that breaking point involved him taking me.
I may have still been on a rescue mission of sorts, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t excited. I’d had this fantasy in my head, but now I was learning it wasn’t as much of a fantasy as it wa
s a possibility. Oh, fuck!
But for now…I had ten minutes before I could not talk to my mother. I had to center myself, maybe put the pajamas back on so I’d get in the proper headspace, and talk to her.
That was easier said than done after everything that just happened, of course.
I walked around the room and tried to calm myself. I thought of my mother. How would she be doing? She was probably a hot mess. With any luck, for once in her life, she wouldn’t have the cameras around her. If the man had as much dominance and authority as he did over me, then he probably had gotten her to shut off the cameras.
Maybe, just maybe, that would mean she’d be real and wouldn’t feel the need to pressure me with so many things.
This thought and others like it slowly got me to the point where I was thinking less like a sex-crazed fiend and more like a young adult who just wanted to talk to her mother. I got my clothes back on, found myself more concerned about my mother than the man outside, and grabbed the phone. She picked up before the first ring had finished.
“Hello? Hello? Kaylie?”
She sounds hysterical.
“Mom! Yes, yes, it’s me, I’m OK, I’m all right.”
My mother let out a cry that turned into actual crying. I almost cried too—I hadn’t heard her sound like this in quite some time. I’d spent so much of my life dealing with her public appearance instead of her private one that this felt like a genuinely wonderful moment.
“Oh my God, Kaylie,” my mother said in a tearful voice. “I really thought I would never see you again. Oh, Kaylie, my sweet, sweet Kaylie.”
“I know, Mom, I know,” I said, my own voice starting to waver too. “But I’m OK. I’m safe and unharmed.”
“Are you sure?” she said. “You can tell me, baby. Tell me if they did anything.”
“No, I swear, Mom,” I said.
I wasn’t quite going to tell her that I was enormously turned on and attracted to this man.
“The guy who rescued me had to carry me and drag me around some, but he hasn’t harmed me. And, strangely enough, the guys that kidnapped me didn’t harm me either. Kept me locked in a room for a while—I don’t know how long—but they never touched me. I promise, Mom.”
My mother sighed.
“I was so worried I had lost you,” she said, stifling a sniffle. “I can’t lose you as well. I can’t wait to have you back here in New York.”
New York.
My warm bed. With the pink blankets, the AC set just as I want it, the overhead fan providing just enough white noise to get me to fall asleep…
I hadn’t missed home before this conversation, mostly because I hadn’t had the mental space to think about it. But now? I wanted nothing more than to get back on that plane and get back to the Big Apple. I wanted to hear the noise of subways, of taxis honking, of people milling about—freely and without feeling like a prisoner.
I wanted to go home. I wanted to be back to where Mom was two floors above me instead of what felt like two continents away. I wanted to go back to having Mom physically near me, not just on the phone.
“I know, Mom, I know,” I said.
“And Scott?”
That’s his name, huh? About time I learned it.
“Do you trust him?”
“Yes,” I said, again cautious not to say too much about how I personally felt—I would not be able to stop myself if so. “He’s taking good care of me. The men who took me are after us, and it’s a little scary, but I think he knows what we’re doing.”
I had nothing substantial to prove this, but I had a feeling the man—err, Scott—was listening in on me. What kind of a spy would he be if he wasn’t listening in on me talking to my mother right now?
But I couldn’t help it.
And besides, it was kind of fun to push him and his buttons. And he hadn’t said anything about asking questions about him.
“Where did you find him?”
“I…I don’t really know,” my mom said with a sniffling laugh. “I just…he just came highly recommended from someone. I called, and he…he’s calling the shots. Do what he says, Kaylie. I’m sure you’ll come home safe.”
Of that, I had no doubt. He’d already rescued me and put me in a spot so much better than the yacht that it felt like I’d literally died and gone from hell to heaven.
“How long have we been talking?”
A brief pause came.
“About nine and a half minutes,” my mother said.
“The line’s going to cut off automatically soon,” I said.
I was surprised to feel the tears welling back up. They’d settled down for a bit, but now that I’d had my chance…
“I love you, Mom,” I said. “I promise I’m coming home and that I’ll do whatever I can.”
“I love you too, sweetie, and I’m sorry you’re in this spot. But I trust Scott to get you out of there.”
Scott.
I’ll remember that.
“Stay safe, sweetie. I’ll see you soon.”
“OK, bye—”
The line cut off before I finished my words. I was disappointed, but when I realized just how much I’d gotten to say to my mother, I didn’t feel angry.
I’d managed to get everything I needed to off my chest. My mother knew I was safe. I was in a great place. I didn’t know what Scott had planned for us—maybe he’d come barging in momentarily and tell me now that I’d made my call, it was time to move again.
But for at least a moment, I felt refreshed, rejuvenated, and hopeful. I had reason to believe I’d get out of this with no further damage.
Chapter 9: Scott
Jesus fucking H. Christ.
This girl, this little brat, was going to be the end of me. It was one thing to rescue a hot bitch like herself. It was one thing to rescue her and have to deal with her mouth.
It was an entirely different thing to have someone that hot, with that kind of mouth, taunting me with her naked body. That tight, perfectly smooth, curvy naked body.
I prided myself on being the consummate professional. I did not give in to temptation. I did not derail missions because I wanted to get my dick wet. And I most certainly did not do anything to compromise myself, whether that was sex, drugs, or corruption.
And yet, here I was, on the verge of running into that room, slamming her to the bed with my hand on her neck, devouring her, and breaking every single one of DOM’s rules. I held Liam and the other agents to the highest standard possible, and yet as a leader, I had no one to answer to. My dick wanted to say fuck it, literally—I could do whatever I wanted.
But what kind of fucking man was I if I made all of DOM follow one set of rules and I followed another?
“That sounds like a promise.”
Christ. I could picture her taunting me, but in my vision, she wasn’t just taunting me. She was shaking her ass at me. She was turning to a profile view so that I could start to get a hint, but not a full perspective, of everything. She was puckering her lips like she was begging me to come and kiss her and take her.
And then I heard a click.
The phone in the other room had ended.
Ten minutes were up. I had a reason to come in.
And let’s just say that my words were not a promise at this point.
They were, shit, they were a fucking guarantee. Because somehow, someway, Kaylie Charleston had turned me from a professional into a man who had to make a fucking personal point.
I went up to her door and raised my hand to knock. You get two minutes in there. Two minutes to make your point, and then you get the fuck out.
Because if you spend any longer in there, you’re going to break more than just a promise to stay there two minutes.
No, thirty seconds.
Just go as fast as you fucking can.
I knocked as loudly as I could.
“Kaylie Charleston!” I said, trying to sound as formal and distant as I could. “I am coming in. I need you to turn around so you do not
see my face.”
I heard some shuffling in the room, like someone shifting from one spot to the other, but I did not get an actual response. I waited a few seconds. Maybe she was just upset her call had ended with her mother.
No, that did not matter. This was not the time for sorrow and empathy. Hard conversations had to be had, and quick decisions had to be made. She could have emotional talks when we were on an airplane heading back to the U.S. mainland.
“Kaylie!” I shouted again, this time knocking harder. “I am coming in. You need to turn around when I enter. Acknowledge what I just said.”
The only acknowledgment I got was a gust of wind outside. Kaylie herself said nothing, made no sound. She might as well have gone to the bathroom and locked herself in there.
I had to take a gamble, but boy, I had a feeling this was going to end badly. Knowing her, she was probably lying on the bed naked, her legs spread, and a pillow over her face so she could technically say that she couldn’t see me.
I unlocked the door, pushed it open slowly, and took a deep breath.
And…
Fuck me.
She was lying on the bed. Naked.
She at least had that bath towel pulled up over her ass, and she at least was lying on her stomach, preventing me from seeing the really good stuff, but if she so much as rolled over, I would see everything. And as little self-control as I had right now, staring at this girl’s back and the upper part of her ass, if she flipped over, I wouldn’t think about losing control. I’d just lose it, get my pants off, and get my dick off.
I couldn’t even pretend to know better. She wanted me, and she was going to torture me, push me until I gave in. It seemed that she wanted to be a DOM of her own sorts. Too bad that if she “got her way,” she’d have no idea what she was in for.
But there was a good chance I, also, wouldn’t know what I was in for, at least when it came to long-term consequences. Fuck!
“Happy my back is to you?” she said, at least keeping her eyes forward.
I snorted. God, what I would have given to see her front, those pretty blue eyes, those curves that I studied so carefully in the videos.
