Forbidden Feast

by Kira Blakely

  “I’m going to call you my good girl, then,” I tell her, and she beams up at me. For a moment, the way her face looks, all lit up and proud of herself, and those shimmering hazel eyes behind the mask—but it couldn’t be. This woman is much bustier than Ella, and Ella would never be here. She’s having Thanksgiving dinner with her family right now.

  I need to get my goddamn assistant out of my head! Now I’m seeing her everywhere.

  “And what shall I call you?” she wonders.

  “Mr. H.”

  “Mr. H,” she repeats musically. “I like it.”

  In the distance, Rex’s voice floats over the milieu. “Rainier!” he bellows.

  I grimace. Rex isn’t as handsome as I am, nor as emotionally strong, nor as intelligent, nor as considerate. Jesus Christ, man. If you’re going to be an alpha, there’s a responsibility that comes with that. He’s starting to get on my last nerve.

  Maybe it’s time that I diversify my interests.

  “I really want to get out of here,” Good Girl says, strangely adamant. “Do you want to walk me, or am I going alone?”

  Weighing whether I want to watch Rex repeatedly try to get his dick into Good Girl, or take her for a balmy evening stroll myself, the choice is easy. “Let’s go.” I grip her hand and we exit the dining hall, out onto a wooden walkway surrounded by sand and trees. “Are you comfortable?” I wonder, unable to forget her nudity. Her heavy breasts swing and bounce with every step, still so youthful and perky.

  “Not exactly,” she confesses, slipping her heels off. “That’s better.”

  “Did you just need to get out of there?” I ask, and she shakes her head.

  “I didn’t need to be in there anymore,” Good Girl says. “I got what I came for. Now I’m going to get a bath and a good night’s sleep.”

  I guffaw out loud. I can’t help it. “What?”

  “What?” she echoes, glowering at me, tits still swaying graciously with every step of her bare feet. “What’s so funny about that?”

  “Most people come here for the decadence of it all,” I explain to her. “No one is supposed to sleep. You eat and you drink and you fuck and you lay on the beach and you dance and that’s about it. There is no such thing as... going to an event, having sex with one person, and going home. There’s no such thing as a good night’s sleep here.”

  “I deserve only the best,” she informs me, sounding smooth and strong. She almost sounds like me when she says it. “And you were the very best man in that entire room.”

  A perplexed smile crawls up one side of my lip. I’m not disagreeing but how did she know that? “I’m a scoundrel,” I say. “You wasted your virginity on me, Good Girl.”

  She laughs—a light, musical thing—and my heart inexplicably tightens. Her laugh... It sounds like—

  But there is no way she could possibly be on this island, I remind myself. You’re losing it, man. Look at this girl. She’s a brunette, yeah, but she’s not Ella. Good Girl is wild. Wild and busty.

  It strikes me suddenly and deeply and for the second time since I met her: I have to see her face. I’ve never taken off a single woman’s mask before, but I’m unmasking this one. I’m going to unmask her tonight, in fact. I promise myself this.

  “My villa is right over there,” I say, gesturing as we stroll. “Do you just want to get a shower and a good night’s sleep there?”

  “No, I don’t.” But she still has on a teasing smile as she says it. “I know I won’t get any sleep in the same bed with you, Mr. H— Mr. H.” How strange. For a moment, it sounded like she knew my name and was about to say it. “And I don’t want to sleep with my mask on tonight.”

  “Oh, come on.” I nudge her with my arm and reach down, lacing my fingers through hers. it feels natural to do so and I tug her along the walkway, toward my villa. She resists and yields almost in the same gesture. “What’s the big deal?”

  “It’s a big deal,” she reassures me. “You’d understand if someone wanted to tell me all about your identity.”

  “I don’t think so,” I tell her, and I’m being honest here. “I don’t think I would.”

  “Your choice,” she says flippantly. “Was that man calling your name? Rainier?”

  “I suppose tonight is a night of firsts for both of us, then,” I say, ignoring her question. Maybe she’s right. Maybe we are getting ahead of ourselves. “Your first time with a man, and my first time wanting to get to know a woman here.” We close in on my villa and I gesture again. “Here we are.”

  “Is it really the first time you’ve wanted to know a woman?” she wonders. “How long have you been coming here?”

  “Eight years,” I answer, stretching open the front door and bowing for her passage. “And no, never. But there’s something about you.”

  She hesitates, then steps past me. I watch her amazing ass swing from side to side as she enters my villa. Little does she know, I will have her again before the night is out.

  And I will get her mask off, too.

  “You’re just bedazzled by my virginity,” she insists. “You don’t need to know who I am.”

  “We’ll see.” My eyes track her as if she’s prey... only in the sense that I will have her. “Go to the bathtub and I’ll bathe you there.”

  She freezes and her eyes flick to me. Again, she reminds me of Ella. There’s something in that doe-like expression on her face. “I don’t think so,” she says. “Not yet. I’ll bathe myself.”

  I stride across the room and cup her chin with my fingers. She stiffens and her neck stretches. She looks directly into my eyes and heat thrums between us. “You’ll get in that bathtub right now and spread your legs,” I command her, steady and even. My woman needs to know that, if she’s with me, I’m in control.

  “Yes, sir,” Good Girl breathes, and I guide her to the bathroom. She settles obediently into the tub and spreads her legs wide for me. I try to ignore how hard I want to be between them right now, and focus instead on running her a nice, warm bath. We don’t speak as I lather the sponge and work it over her body, gently adoring her with every swipe, every scrub. I circle her taut nipples with the rough sponge and watch them depress and then spring back. I gaze wonderingly as the bubbles course down her breasts, down her flat, slick belly, and into the water again. I run the soapy sponge over her legs, her inner thighs, then soak it in the water and graze it between her labia. I know that I just rode her hard, and she’s probably raw from all the orgasms so far, but I can’t resist.

  “You’re so good for me,” I tell her, stroking harder, and I feel her hips shift and grind, feel her respond to me. “I want to make you feel good, Good Girl...” I start pumping harder, forgetting that I want to know who she is, forgetting that I want this to last longer than a few days. The water froths between her legs and she whimpers and bucks and my sleeve is soaking wet. I drop the sponge and put my fingers on her clit, driving her orgasm home with precision. Her spine stiffens, her neck loosens, and her eyes roll back in her head. Her thighs lift out of the water as her pussy pulses around my fingers and my dick gets a deep surge of adrenaline and blood.

  “Oh, Good Girl.” I draw my wet hand out of the bath and flick it, spent and invigorated at once. “I have to know your name.”

  Chapter 6

  Ella

  Rainier dries me off and leads me into the den, now lit by a dozen pillar candles. There’s an unlit fireplace in front of us, and glass doors on either side, both cracked open to allow the salty ocean breeze through. Behind us is a long leather sofa.

  “What are you doing?” I wonder as Rainier releases my hand and settles himself onto the sofa.

  “I’m not doing anything,” he answers. “You’re going to dance, and I’m going to watch.”

  “But there isn’t any music.”

  Rainier calls out his request for whatever electronic assistant is installed in this villa, and some light 90’s R&B fills our space. My hips automatically rock back and forth, and I realize that it’s eas
ier for me to dance for him than it is for me not to. I turn my back on him and roll my hips, giving him a generous eyeful of my round rear. I lift my hands and run them through my hair, lifting it slightly off my shoulders as I sway, then spin, breasts jiggling.

  He’s stroking himself down, glued to my every movement, and I bite my lip for him. His tie is loose on his shoulder, his shirt partially unbuttoned from before. His hair is wild now, and his eyes gleam with hot lust. He seethes and his fist pumps over his rigid member, slick with pre-cum now.

  “You kind of look like this woman from my office,” Rainier blurts.

  I would fall over if I were in heels right now, but I’m not, so the stutter is easy to smooth over. I drop my hair and flip it. “Oh, really?” I say, speaking in a slightly lower voice. I come swirling down into a wide squat for him. Even though we’re treading in dangerous waters now, he’s the one who brought me up. I have to know. “You want her? Fantasize about her?”

  “Oh, yeah, almost compulsively now,” he answers, skinning his teeth over his lower lip as he views me. “But you’re nothing like her.”

  I smirk and throw myself onto hands and knees, crawling toward him seductively. My palms fan over his knees and I slither over his lap.

  “Tell me about her,” I coo, brushing my lips softly against his broad mushroom tip. “Talk dirty to me.”

  “Fuck, yeah, you are a bad girl,” Rainier purrs excitedly. His fingers bury themselves in the hair at the nape of my neck. “She’s so fucking... attentive,” he confesses, pausing to glare and groan while I deep-throat him. I want him to tell me all about me. Tell me all about how bad he’s wanted me for months. God, yes, I knew it. Deep down, I knew he wanted me, too. “She does everything perfectly, like my sexy slave. Oh, fuck. I just think about how attentive she’d be on my cock. I think about what’s going on under all those clothes. I think about... oh, fuck, I think about splitting her tight skirts open and ripping her hose and tying her wrists with it and putting her down on the desk. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah.”

  I’m insanely wet hearing that he wanted to do that to me, and I reach between my thighs and up to my pouring pussy, feverishly working over a clit that should’ve quit long ago. But I need to come again, now that I’m hearing all this. Now that I’m working down his pole so perfectly, and he doesn’t know I’m the good girl making him come. He has no idea how good I am. I’m too good.

  “I want you to fuck her when you go home,” I rasp, squeezing him with my fist while my mouth has to be away. My middle finger grinds on my clit. “I want you to fuck her just like that.” Then I’m on him again immediately.

  “Oh, god, fuck,” Rainier curses at the ceiling. “I’d rub her pussy and smack it and lick it, because I know that shit is sweet. Oh, I can feel it when I look at her. Oh, and I’d make her come so hard... fuck, yeah. But I can’t, Good Girl. I can’t.”

  I come off his member. “You seem like a powerful man,” I remind him. I drive his shaft down my throat, then come back up. “You can do anything.” I go down again.

  “I can do anything but she might lose her job,” he says to me, and I slowly pull off of him. My eyes lift up to his and my swollen lips gape apart. I rise up to settle, straddling his lap, and unwind the loose tie from his neck. “I won’t do it,” he tells me simply, and I smile down at him. I tie the tie over his eyes and then lick my lips.

  I align our sexes and sink down onto him. Should I do it? Should I tell him? Because I won’t be able to bear knowing what he wants, bending over his desk, and him, not grabbing my panties and ripping them off. Him resisting. I can’t live in a world where he resists me forever.

  I lean back and brace myself on his knees, bucking my hips. I push the mask up my face, so it rests on my forehead. He’ll be able to see who I really am.

  “Rainier!” Rex’s voice pierces our moment from outside.

  I scramble off of Rainier’s hard-on and pull my mask over my eyes again.

  “Get back on me, girl,” Rainier commands, ripping the blindfold from his face.

  At the same time, I whirl to face Rex fully. He’s already through the billowing drapes and I’m not sure if he saw my face or not, but either way, he knew to expect me here. I look different, but not different enough that someone who knows I was invited won’t suspect anything.

  “Mr. M,” Rainier snaps at Rex. “What the hell are you doing here right now?”

  “I was just leaving,” I say, folding my arms protectively over my nipples.

  “Nonsense,” Rex says with a grin. His eyes hungrily trail my body. “Stay... I just wanted to check in with my friend.” He steps closer to me and then hesitates. His head cocks and I see the pieces click into place for him.

  My eyes widen. He doesn’t just suspect. He knows.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” Rainier says to Rex. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something with—with—”

  “Ms. P,” Rex supplies, and my blood slushes into ice water. He’s going to expose me. And he’s not going to say it nicely.

  “Ms. P?” Rainier scowls at Rex. “You’ve met?”

  “No,” I lie. “I don’t know Ms. P.”

  “Oh... my mistake,” Rex excuses himself, never peeling his eyes away from me. I wish I had more hands to cover my bare snatch, so visible and exposed.

  “I call her Good Girl,” Rainier introduces me, sounding savage and aggressive in spite of the technically polite words.

  “You can just call me Mrs. H,” I tell Rex, hoping he’ll get the picture about what happened here and leave it as it is. After all, I’m a lowly secretary. Am I really worth the paperwork of an actual termination, especially if I might have a decent claim against the company for discrimination?

  “Mrs. H,” Rex echoes coolly. “Is that so, Mr. H? Is she your Island wifey, eh?”

  “Yes,” Rainier answers without hesitation.

  “Well, well. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Rex reassures me, reaching out to slide his palm down my arm. I cringe away from the touch, which feels invasive. His eyes feel invasive. “Unless you don’t mind if I join?”

  “I fucking mind,” Rainier snaps, shoving at Rex’s arm. “Get out of here, man!”

  Rex absorbs the shove and glowers at Rainier, then casts the same stormy look onto me. “I think you might want me to stick around,” he replies. “We really need to talk, brother... unless your island wifey wants to give us both...?”

  His eyes trail back to me and I bristle. It’s too uncomfortable and I march past him, through the billowing drapes and open door.

  “You’re this close,” I hear Rainier growl to Rex, clearly threatening him. “Good Girl!”

  “I have to go,” I lie, so horrified I’m almost dizzy. I push through the billowing curtains and am thankfully expelled into the warm November night. I didn’t feel naked before, but I feel naked now. Knowing that Rex McKenzie has seen me, that he has identified me—and it seemed he was just trying to low-key blackmail me into fucking him with Rainier—I feel vulnerable and exposed, almost running back to my villa.

  Chapter 7

  Rainier

  I stare after Good Girl, grind my teeth together, and whirl on Rex, dark eyes blazing. “Tell me you have some kind of developmental disease,” I beg him. “Tell me you can’t read a single social cue to save your life, and I won’t have to drown you in the toilet.”

  “You honestly didn’t—?” Rex splutters, looking at the rippling drapes and then back at me.

  “Didn’t what? Didn’t expect you to barge into my villa on Thanksgiving night? Didn’t ever even hint that I might want to have a threesome with you while here? Didn’t—?”

  “That was Ella! You didn’t know it was her?” Rex answers, flinging his hands in the air. His cheeks redden. “You didn’t even recognize her, you prick!”

  I scoff. “Don’t be stupid,” I say. ”Ella is with her family. She couldn’t possibly be here. They just look alike.”

  “I’m telling you, that was Isabella Petit.”<
br />
  I examine Rex more closely. His chest rises and falls. His eyes are manic and insistent. My lip kinks and I scoff at him. I know this look. This is how he always gets when he wants something new.

  “You want her, too,” I realize. I excused their every interaction as friendly but should have known better. So few men are truly friendly. Then it clicks. He said he wanted to get certain women invited this year. And now, here he is, insistent that I was just with my own assistant.

  Tell me about her, Good Girl begged.

  “You got her an invitation, didn’t you?” I accuse him.

  Rex’s eyes darken and he shrugs. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “You wouldn’t say that? What kind of omission is that, Rex? Did you give her an invitation? Say yes!”

  “No!” Rex snarls at me.

  “That’s right, you little bitch,” I tell him. “You wouldn’t give Ella an invitation because you’d be directly violating our company’s policies. You’d be jeopardizing your career and mine. So, I’m going to ask you again, Rex.” I take a measured step toward him, eyes flaring. “Did you give Ella an invitation?”

  Rex swallows. “No,” he whispers, “but she is Good Girl. Somehow, some way, she’s here, Rex. I recognize her.”

  There’s a part of me that wishes it could believe Rex. Then life would be so much simpler. Good Girl is just a brunette with hazel eyes. A virgin who was waiting for me...

  I gulp. Christ.

  My eyes pin to Rex. “I don’t believe you,” I confess simply.

  “What?”

  “I don’t believe you, Rex. I believe that you did ensure my assistant, Isabella Petit, received an invitation to Mystique, even though you knew I would be here. Even though you know what goes on here. And for reasons I still can’t quite fucking comprehend... she accepted that invitation and came.” I shake my head softly at him. “But she didn’t come here to see you. She came here to see me.”

  Rex’s eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. He exhales through his nose. “You know that?” he asks. “She said that?”