Lifting her chin with his finger, he dropped his lips on hers. The potent kiss fired their passion, and as their mouths moved in unison, Duncan felt a stirring in his soul, a stirring he'd not experienced in many years, a stirring that told him Brittany would haunt him long after they left the ship and went their separate ways. As her arms clung to him, he sensed she was feeling it too.
The indefinable magic.
One of the most powerful forces on earth.
* * * * * * * * * *
Brittany spent almost an hour writing the letter, delivered it as he'd asked, then returning to her cabin she sank into bed. The nap was just what she needed, and when she stirred she felt surprisingly calm. Stepping into the bathroom she stood with her back to the mirror and stared over her shoulder at her blotchy red cheeks. Wanting a shower, but with her skin still tender, she made sure the shower was tepid, then stepping into the stall she began soaping herself with the pomegranate bath gel supplied by the ship. As she closed her eyes and breathed in the citrus fragrance, an unexpected thought flashed through her mind. Sneaking into Duncan's cabin had fast-paced their relationship. She caught herself.
"What am I saying? There is no relationship! This is a shipboard fling. That's it."
But even as the words left her lips, she knew leaving him would be painful. Very painful.
* * * * * * * * * *
Duncan had a nanny cam.
After being the victim of theft during a previous cruise, he carried the covert camera with him whenever he traveled, zipping through the footage every evening. As he watched her uninvited visit, he had to chuckle when she discovered she couldn't fit behind the armoire and made a panicked dash for the deck. Deciding to save it for posterity and share it with her at some point in the future, he downloaded the film to his computer.
Turning his attention to the evening ahead he moved across to the dining table. White roses sat in the center with two tapered candles either side. Dom Perignon chilled in an ice bucket, and crystal goblets waited to be filled. In his bedroom, a bouquet of white and yellow roses rested in an ornate vase. Duncan spared no expense when defending a client. His fees were high, but those who could afford him received the best representation money could buy. So it was in his personal life. He did not hold back or play games, and he thoroughly enjoyed pampering the women in his life. Brittany's gentle knock announced her arrival for their dinner date, and opening the door he found her dressed in a shimmering green cocktail dress. A string of pearls graced her neck, and she had parted her hair on the side, causing it to fall coquettishly across one eye.
"Exquisite," he smiled, taking her hand and kissing it softly.
"Thank you, and you could be James Bond."
Duncan had opted for a dark suit, a sharp white shirt, and a bow tie with a roguish streak of purple.
"Dom Perignon is chilling, and a very good year I might add."
"You're spoiling me."
"Are you complaining?"
"Not for a minute," she replied, and as he ushered her forward her eyes fell on the beautifully set table. "This is gorgeous. I don't know what to say. No-one has ever gone to so much trouble for me."
"I want you to know how special I think you are."
"I am?"
"Yes, you are. Please sit down and close your eyes. I have something for you."
As she took her seat and felt her tender backside, a soft smile crossed her lips. Not only was her fantasy coming true, it was beyond anything she'd dared to hope. She heard the rustle of his clothes as he walked away, but he quickly returned.
"For you, Brittany. Take a look."
Opening her eyes she discovered a stunning arrangement of roses in a multi-colored art glass vase.
"They're so beautiful, and the vase, it's lovely. What did I do to deserve all this?"
"There is no gift I can give, equal to that which you've given me. Your trust and submission."
"I don't know what to say."
"The white and yellow roses represent purity and friendship," he continued. "What you experienced today was pure. You surrendered, and that is a truly precious thing. We're bound by that and the friendship blossoming between us."
"This is so much. I'm sorry, I can't help thinking…never mind."
"Thinking what? Tell me."
"We'll be saying goodbye so soon."
"I know," he said with a sigh. "We must treasure the time we have, but if this is too overwhelming—if you've changed your mind—I'll understand."
"No! I haven't! Not for a minute!"
"Good. I'm glad. I'll call for our meal. I've ordered Cajun Chicken and Pepper Salmon. Which would you prefer?"
"The salmon, thank you."
As he stood up and expertly popped the cork on the champagne, Brittany felt a million miles away from her safe, boring life. She was dining with a dashing British Dominant, and would soon be the willing victim of his wicked ways.
"What's our toast?" she asked, as he filled their glasses.
"Living for the moment."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Brittany found Duncan's charm and humor captivating, and when they finished dinner, he selected a CD and pulled her into his arms to dance. Sinking against him, with the honeyed voice of Michael Buble singing a haunting rendition of The Way You Look Tonight, he slowly slid down the zipper at the back of her dress.
"Duncan, are you going to break my heart?".
"Maybe you'll be the one breaking my heart," he replied, sliding the spaghetti straps down her arms and letting the silky garment puddle around her feet. "There are two of us in this dance."
She was about to answer when he suddenly swept her up, carried her to his bedroom and laid her on the bed. Stretching out next to her, he deftly unsnapped her bra.
"Gorgeous," he sighed, gazing at her breasts.
Moving his mouth to nibble her nipples, she raised her chest, moaning softly as he devoured one, then the other.
"Close your eyes and raise your arms above your head."
As she followed his instruction, he withdrew the sash from the robe he'd left in the nightstand drawer and deftly tied her wrists.
"There, lovely and helpless. Now spread your legs."
"Duncan, I've wanted this for such a long time."
"I know," he crooned, pausing to whisper the words in her ear.
Moving to the foot of the bed, he secured her ankles with two of his belts, and enjoying the salacious sight of his bound Southern Belle, he casually removed his clothes, returning to tickle her sex through the gusset of her panties.
"I can't make love to you with your knickers on, and I have no intention of untying you."
"I don't understand."
"You will."
Teasing her until her groans became whines of aching need, he grabbed the sides of the lacy panties and ripped them apart. Though she gasped as he yanked them off, he dropped his head between her legs to twirl his tongue against her sensitive button, and she was quickly bleating her need.
"Are you ready for me?" he asked, kissing her inner thighs as he slid his finger inside her.
"Yes, yes, please, Sir."
"I believe you are," he said huskily, and kneeling between her legs, he positioned his cock, clutched her hips, and thrust forward.
"You're so big! Ooh, Duncan!"
"Relax and take it," he purred, slowly pumping. "That's right. Just like that."
Her breathing was heavy, her chest red, and as he accelerated she sucked in the air, then suddenly let out a wail.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked urgently, coming to a sudden stop.
"No, I'm just so close."
Slowing his strokes, he leaned down to nibble at her breasts, then thrust vigorously, bringing her to the brink before slowing again. Though she begged him to her let her climax, he continued the torment until he could no longer contain himself, then stroked with renewed gusto. In seconds her climax took hold, sending a tsunami of sparkling sensations through her body, and as the spasms began to wane,
she heard Duncan's euphoric groans. As the last convulsion swept over her and her body fell limp, he followed suit, and slipping from her depths, he collapsed beside her and brought her into his arms. Lost in the post-orgasmic bliss they rested together for several serene minutes. It was Brittany who spoke first.
"That was incredible. I knew it would be, but Duncan, what did you mean when you said I could break your heart?"
"Mmmm, incredible, yes," he mumbled with a sigh. "How can you break my heart? I'm offering you something unique."
"Are you suggesting I'm only interested in you because you're a Dom?"
"Are you?"
"No!" she exclaimed, sitting up. "How could you think that? The minute I saw you walking up the gangplank I wanted to meet you and I knew nothing about you."
"My goodness. I stand corrected."
"And you weren't exactly easy to meet. You were like the Invisible Man. You drove me nuts."
"If I didn't know better I'd think you were looking for another trip over my knee."
"That's impossible. I haven't had a trip over your knee, just an embarrassing bend across the arm of a couch."
"And there you are. The other side of Brittany Carter. A cheeky, feisty, femme fatale, but I won't let you be a brat, not for a minute."
"I'm not a brat, though there are times you've made me feel ten-years old."
"No, there are times you behaved like a ten-year old and I treated you accordingly. Now I think it's time for some sleep," he said, suddenly caught up in a yawn.
"I agree. I'm totally wiped out."
"Duncan?"
"Yes, Brittany?"
"We didn't talk about what I wrote."
"We may, or we may not, but it was exactly what I wanted. Goodnight, Brittany."
"Goodnight, Duncan.
* * * * * * * * *
Early the following morning Duncan was roused from sleep by Brittany's hand wrapped around his semi-erect cock, and her breasts pressed against his back. Sinking into the pleasure, he indulged himself for a few minutes before rolling over her to devour her luscious nipples.
"Mmm, good morning, Mr. Bond. That feels so good."
"Good morning, Cheeky," he replied, raising his head. "Shift so your back is towards me."
"Aye, aye, Commander."
"I know someone who's going to have their pretty little behind smacked."
"Do you promise?"
"Oh, yes, young lady, that is definitely a promise," he purred, and sliding into her hot, wet depths, he began stroking with quick, strong thrusts.
"Duncan, ooh…"
But his battering ram offered no pause, and caught up in a whitewash of scintillating sensations, her simmering orgasm quickly began to build. Holding her breath she waited for the eruption.
He spied her fingers clawing the bedspread.
Her body arched.
He paused.
"No, Sir. Please."
"You can only come on my command."
"I'll try."
As he resumed his vigorous thrusting, his plunging penis taking her even higher, he watched for the signs, and when he sensed her climax approach he gave the order.
"Come for me. Come for me now!"
The glorious pins and needles flowed through her limbs, and as she wailed out her joy, he sank his teeth into her neck like a hungry vampire. Fresh waves seized her, and moments later she heard his deep groans, but their mutual spasms finally began to abate. Feeling him slip away, she rolled over so she could snuggle into his chest.
"If I was a kitten I'd be purring," she murmured. "What a wonderful way to wake up."
"And last night?"
"A rocket ship with several after burners, then shooting into space," then pausing, she asked, "Duncan, is it like this with all the women you date?"
"All the women? How many do you think I have?"
"Is it this intense?" she pressed. "It's okay, you can tell me."
"No. Not every woman wants my special brand of attention, and our chemistry is unique."
"Thank you for saying that. Not that it matters I suppose. We'll soon be going our separate ways and you'll return to your harem."
"Cheeky, cheeky," he muttered, pinching her bottom. "I'm sure you have many men knocking on your door."
"Not really. In fact, when I tried to provoke my last boyfriend into spanking me, he called me childish and walked out."
"Why didn't you just ask him?"
"I guess I was embarrassed, and looking back he would have been too."
"Poor Brittany, living in a world that doesn't understand her. Speaking of spanking, how's your bottom? Still a bit sore I trust?"
"Uh-huh."
"Good. Just as it deserves to be. Are you hungry? Ready for breakfast?"
"Absolutely. Will you shower with me?"
"You go ahead. I have to think about something."
Kissing him lightly, Brittany climbed from the bed and ambled into the bathroom, but before she could step into the shower the ship suddenly lurched. Quickly donning the robe hanging on the door, she hurried back and found Duncan at the sliding glass door.
"I thought you were taking a shower," he remarked as she joined him.
"That jolt scared me. What's happening?"
"We're heading into weather," he said, putting an arm around her, "but nothing to worry about. Just think of the waves as potholes in the ocean."
The ship suddenly rolled sideways, and panic-stricken she threw her arms around his waist.
"Try not to worry. I doubt these rough seas will last long, probably just a passing squall. I've ordered us breakfast, but if you'd prefer the main dining room we can--"
"No, I want to stay here," she interrupted. "Please can we stay here?"
"Of course, but if you're too unnerved to take a shower, you should at least go back to your cabin and change. I doubt you want to spend the morning in that green silk dress."
"Dammit, there it goes again," she exclaimed as the ship pitched. "I don't like this."
"Do you want me to come with you? I'll get the sash for the robe and you can stay in that. I don't think we'll run into anyone, and even if we did I doubt they'll care."
"Would you mind?"
"Not at all. Give me a second."
He fetched the sash, quickly dressed in one of his track suits, then they headed down the hall to her door, but as they entered the ship abruptly rolled again.
"I'm trying not to be freaked out," she declared, "but it's not easy."
"You have a Knight In Shining Armor. Go and get changed. I'm not going anywhere," he promised with a smile, but as the last four words left his lips, a soft shiver rippled down his spine.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Returning to Duncan's stateroom, though the storm was relatively mild Brittany found it truly frightening and clung to him as they walked down the hall. When they entered his cabin and settled on the couch to watch a movie, she curled into his lap and refused to budge.
"You might be scared but at least you're not seasick," he remarked. "Believe me, that's a good thing. The medication can knock you out."
"There's nothing good about this! Nothing," she exclaimed as the ship lurched and rolled. "How long will this last? I can't stand it."
"Perhaps there's a way I could take your mind off it."
"I can't imagine anything will do that. I don't even know what movie we're watching. This tub is rolling all over the place."
"When you read Emily's Education did any particular scene appeal to you? Something you'd like to experience?"
"You want the truth?"
"Of course I want the truth."
"Everything. Every single thing."
"That book contained segments featuring severe discipline. Are you sure?"
"I am, though it's possible once I went through it I might change my mind."
"Pick one thing, just one, and I'll bring it to life for you. That should distract you."
"Okay, here goes. I want to kneel between your legs, take you i
n my mouth, and have you train me with a cane."
"Ah, yes, I remember that scene. You'll have to be careful though. With the ship moving like it is we don't want any unfortunate accidents."
"Ha. That's funny. I'll do my best not to turn you into a eunuch, but there's something you should know. I've avoided oral sex, but when I read that passage I desperately wanted to experience it with you."
"That's not uncommon. Often a fantasy we wouldn't dream of doing with one person, we find ourselves craving to do with another. Unfortunately I don't have a cane with me, but I think there's something else I can use. Are you able to let go of me now? I'm going to lose circulation in my arm."
"Sorry, and I just realized for those few minutes I didn't imagine the ship sinking."
"Excellent. I'll be back in a minute, but when I return I expect to find you naked and kneeling in front of the couch with your hands locked behind your neck."
"Yes, Sir."
"Excellent. You're in the mindset already."
"I don't think it ever goes away," she said thoughtfully. "I'm always thinking about bondage and spanking."
"Excellent point."
Heading into his closet he sought out his long, thin shoe horn. She'd offered quite the reaction when he'd swished it against her bottom after he'd discovered her in his closet. Confident it would be more than adequate he strode back into the living room, smiling with approval as he entered. The naked young woman had her hair tucked behind her ears, her hands were locked at the back of her neck, and she looked appropriately demure.
"Isn't that what you hit me with when you found me hiding behind your trousers?"
"Indeed it is," he said, sitting in front of her. "You must understand it is a privilege to worship my cock. As my submissive you—"
"Am I your submissive?" she interrupted excitedly. "You consider me your submissive?"
His instinct more than desire flicked the rod smartly against her naked backside.
"Ow, ow, ow," she protested, dropping her hands to rub away the sharp pain. "Ooh, it hurts. Why?"
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