Morgan grinned at her. “My pleasure. I rarely went out incognito before that damn article. But after it came out, it became a necessity, or I’d have never been able to leave my building. I have to admit I’m a little compulsive about my privacy.”
Almost every woman under the age of one hundred had read the “Ten Wealthiest Single Men in Manhattan” article that had graced the cover of Cosmo, one of the leading women’s magazines, a year ago. It had been featured front and center on every newsstand in the city. He had done his best to be excluded, and had refused to pose for any photographs or give an interview, but that had only seemed to whet their appetite to include him. After the magazine came out, building security at both his office and his Fifth Avenue co-op had to turn away single women lurking about hoping to meet the illusive thirty-eight-year-old Morgan Court.
“Well, I had a ball. Sitting on a bench in Central Park, walking on Fifth Avenue, eating hot dogs. It was all a kick. What’s your favorite disguise?”
“Sorry, Harper. If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He grinned at her momentary shock, and then she started to giggle. He just loved that line. “I can tell you that the best one was when I dressed as a bum and walked up to the doorman at my building. He gets tipped very handsomely at Christmas every year to guard my privacy. He ran me off and threatened to call the police if I came back. I laughed so hard all the way to the corner that I almost gave up the gig.”
“I’m impressed. It had to be a damn good disguise to fool your own doorman. How do you get out of the building dressed like that?”
“There’s a back entrance through the basement. I can come or go that way with a key.” He smiled at her amazement. “It’s not all smoke and mirrors. People generally are not very observant. They are usually too wrapped up in their own concerns to really pay attention to what goes on around them.”
The waiter approached the table for their dinner orders. The food on board the Golden Dolphin was five star, and the service was impeccable. After dinners of braised asparagus, roasted potatoes, and two-pound lobsters to whet their appetites for the fresh North Atlantic seafood in which they were going to indulge during the next three weeks, they walked out onto the starboard deck and took seats out of the breeze to enjoy their after-dinner drinks—brandy for Morgan and Bailey’s Irish Cream in hot coffee for Harper. It was cold, and the moonlight sparkled on the water of the Hudson River. He smiled at her as she snuggled deeper into her shearling jacket.
“I have to say, I am very pleased with the outcome of the trial. I had my doubts.” At her look of dismay, he continued, “Not about your abilities. Your experience and education, not to mention your status at your firm, speak for themselves. I am just sure that the whole lawsuit was politically inspired. The assistant federal prosecutor is looking to move up, and my family has had some similar unexplained problems in recent years.”
“I had wondered about that. Your pharmaceutical company is large but not large enough to warrant a trial of this magnitude. I would hardly say Court Industries has a monopoly on the pharmaceutical industry, or that you engage in unfair business practices. It’s always something…” Her expression was troubled. “If that’s the case, we may not have heard the last of this.”
“I say we just kick back and enjoy the cruise. Tomorrow is another day.”
She smiled at him. “Agreed. Kick back it is.” She reclined on the chaise and took a sip of her Bailey’s and coffee. “Ummm. This is the perfect finish to a fabulous dinner.”
* * * *
Harper glanced at Morgan out the corner of her eye. His well-tailored tweed blazer over a black turtleneck sweater and black slacks emphasized his wide shoulders and long legs. He was just stunning when he wasn’t in camouflage mode. She would give a lot to see him in his bum getup. That had to be a sight. It’s a shame we’re both Doms. With his aura of command, she was sure he would never bottom, not that she would really want him to. That would be like asking a tiger to shed his stripes. He was just too masculine and beautiful for her to want to change him. She had been attracted to him since the first time she had seen him at Le Club Eastside. Although she had not been able to see his face that first time, she had been captivated by his gorgeous body and the way he had handled his sub. He dominated with authority. He was by no means a pushover, but he wasn’t overly or unnecessarily harsh either. He expected and demanded obedience. He had a certain something besides a commanding presence…maybe empathy. She didn’t know what it was, but he was compelling as a man and as a Dom.
Harper knew she had issues. Despite a few not very satisfactory liaisons in college and law school, she had not really ever been in a long-lasting, mature adult relationship. Her sexual responses were stunted, to say the least, and she had a tendency to panic in the clenches. Her childhood, spent with abusive elderly grandparents, who should have never been given a child to raise after her druggie parents had dropped out, had left scars. She had tried counseling several times over the years. The last psychologist she had worked with, who was admittedly a little over the top, had suggested she try the Domme role in order to put herself in control of the relationship. Despite the unorthodox advice, it had worked out fairly well. But while she could take control of a sub and bring him to a satisfactory completion, she was unable to let go enough to accept any pleasure in return. She had been approached by several of the Doms at the club, but once she had assumed the role of Domme, she had been unwilling to relinquish that control.
Chapter Three
The Port of New York and New Jersey, New York, New York, on board the Golden Dolphin, November 10, 2013—Sunday Afternoon, Day One of the Cruise
Harper had read the brochure entitled The Golden Dolphin Pleasure Club Rules which explained the color-coded bracelet system on board the ship. It included a selection of brightly colored rubber bracelets. Doms and Dommes wore half-inch-wide black bracelets. Non-participants wore half-inch-wide red bracelets. Passengers or crew who were subs wanting to participate in the BDSM, or Bondage & Discipline, Dominance & Submission and Sadomasochism, activities aboard wore green, as well as thin multicolored ones that signified various hard limits. The booklet provided good basic information about BDSM. Theme rooms and costumes could be reserved by calling a telephone extension. She found the concept ingenious. Passengers and crew did not have to say a word. They just wore their bracelets. She slipped the black one on her right wrist.
She and Morgan had enjoyed a wonderful brunch in the top deck lounge while more passengers boarded the ship. They had met and struck up conversations with several couples and a few singles who would be taking the cruise. Harper discreetly checked out all wrists for colored bracelets. It was fun to privately try to guess what someone had under their jacket sleeve.
After brunch they had each returned to their own suite. Morgan was occupying the very luxurious Master Suite on the top deck of the five-deck yacht. Harper had a beautiful but somewhat smaller suite on the fourth deck. She thought Morgan would have preferred her to share the Master Suite, but she hadn’t been comfortable with that. She needed her own space. She had been delighted by her suite’s beautiful and soothing color scheme of pale green and ivory and the antique furnishings. The bathroom was a dream come true, with a restored claw-foot tub surrounded by translucent, creamy off-white shower curtains, which allowed her to use the tub as a shower. The pale-green marble counters and antique white cabinetry had a decidedly country-French flavor. She wished she could pack it up and take it home with her.
After napping for an hour, Harper called down to the galley for a pot of green tea and a plate of cookies. The steward who delivered her order was a beautiful young man of about twenty-five who spoke with a slight French accent. The name on his uniform shirt was Jean-Claude. His curly blond hair was a little long, and he had soft-blue eyes. Harper noted that he wore a green bracelet with only one thin red band signifying no extreme whipping. When he pushed the cart containing her tea and cookies into the suite, he immediately dropped into the s
lave position on the floor in front of the door. “Mistress, may I serve you?”
Harper was taken aback. She knew that a lot of the stewards and ABs, or able-bodied seamen, aboard participated in the BDSM activities, either as Doms or subs, but she had not expected one to drop at her feet.
“Yes, Jean-Claude, please put my tea on the table by the window. Thank you.”
“Permission to speak, Mistress?”
“Certainly, Jean-Claude.”
“I meant may I serve as your sub, Mistress. I do not currently have a Mistress and would be honored to serve you while you are aboard.”
Harper thought for a moment. She didn’t want to hurt the young man’s feelings by refusing, but she did not want to commit to a relationship lasting the entire cruise. “Are you off duty tonight? If so, I’ll meet you in the dungeon at nine thirty for a one-time scene. I do not want to commit to anything for the duration of the trip.”
“Thank you, Mistress. I will be there.” He stood, took the room service cart, and left the suite.
Harper shook her head. This whole thing was really rather amazing. She couldn’t imagine what wonders the rest of the trip would hold.
Chapter Four
Harper and Morgan met on the upper deck for the lifeboat and life jacket safety drill at six thirty. Gregory Dempsey, the safety officer and head of security, and his assistant, Natasha Romanova, demonstrated the use of the lifeboats and life jackets. The brochure had stated that Greg and Natasha were also in charge of the BDSM club aboard the ship.
Greg explained that the crew and all passengers were to wear the dark-blue waterproof rubber bracelets they would find in their suites at all times. He explained that the bracelets contained the personal identification of each passenger and would allow them to embark and debark from the ship. In the event of an emergency, either aboard ship or on shore, their locations could be tracked via the GPS chips embedded in the bracelets. In the event of an accidental fall overboard, they could be located in the water. He related that on the first cruise of the Golden Dolphin, a passenger had been abducted from a street market on the Amazon. The ship’s security team had been able to track and recover her before anything had happened to her. That was enough information for Harper. She put the bracelet on immediately and urged Morgan to do the same.
Greg introduced the passengers to the ship’s mascot, Saltydawg, the mud-brown, bandy-legged English bulldog, and allowed him to make friends with everyone before inviting them all to visit the bridge and meet the rest of the ship’s officers at their first opportunity. Harper had to admit that these folks really seemed to have a handle on this cruise business. Everything was top-drawer and flawlessly organized without the go-to-camp atmosphere found on many large cruise ships. She was impressed.
* * * *
Morgan took Harper’s arm and led her back into the dining room. The wind off the river was frigid, and the idea of a nice hot toddy and dinner sounded really good right now. He knew they would be pulling out of the harbor at nine o’clock. Harper’s long, silky black hair was bundled back into a bun at her nape, exposing her long, slender neck. She wore a red suede jacket over a black cashmere sweater and skinny black jeans that lovingly sculpted her very fine butt. He really liked that butt and had every intention of making its intimate acquaintance.
While they sipped their hot toddies, Harper told Morgan about her appointment in the dungeon. He was surprised but covered his reaction quickly. “He’s a lovely young man, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by refusing. I did tell him it was only going to be this one time.”
“I’ll come down and watch if you don’t mind.” This was a good opportunity to try and gain some insight into Harper’s thinking. He didn’t plan to miss it.
“Not at all. The dungeon is open to everyone.”
Chapter Five
Harper entered the dungeon through the heavily carved double doors on deck three to find Jean-Claude waiting for her in the slave position in the center of the floor. She stopped in front of him, her long legs encased in tight black jeans tucked into high, black English riding boots. Her breasts were pushed up by the black leather bustier she wore. His head was bowed, and he didn’t meet her eyes as was proper protocol. His naked body was completely hairless. She admired his sleekly muscled chest and arms. Harper could see the excitement evidenced by his bobbing erection and the light in his eyes. His blond hair brushed his broad shoulders.
Harper saw Morgan leaning up against the wall next to the St. Andrew’s Cross. His wide muscular chest was only partially covered by the black leather vest he wore, and his masculine package was molded by tight black leather pants tucked into high boots. He was watching her intently. He was the classic picture of a dark and powerful Master Dom. She wasn’t going to allow him to distract her from her duties to her sub and this scene.
“Sub, rise and greet your Mistress.” She waited patiently while Jean-Claude rose to his feet and bowed slightly. Harper had to admit that the young man was really quite beautiful. She gave him her full attention. “What is your safe word, sub?”
“The universal safe word for the ship is ‘kingfish,’ Mistress.”
“I see that you only wear a red band, signifying no extreme whipping. Do you have any other hard limits?
“No, Mistress. I put myself in your hands.”
“Put on wrist and ankle cuffs and get up on the table, faceup.” Harper waited for him to comply. She checked his cuffs for proper fit and fastening, and then she clipped them to the table’s corners. Jean-Claude was now spread-eagle on the table. Harper went to the armoire in the corner and checked the drawers until she found what she wanted—the pure white paraffin wax candle with a low melting point used for wax play. She trimmed the wick and put the candle in a short, spouted blue ceramic bowl. She lit it and set it on a table beside them. While she waited for the special wax to melt, she warmed a small amount of baby oil in her hands and ran them over his chest, abdomen, and legs, working the fragrant oil into his skin.
She spoke softly for his ears only. “We’re going to have a little hot wax play, sub. Does that frighten you, or can you trust your Mistress to take care of you?”
He looked a little nervous but said, “Anything you wish, Mistress.”
Harper looked deeply into his eyes. “Just relax. Trust me.” She picked up the bowl and dripped a little of the melted wax on the inside of her elbow. When she had determined that the wax was at the melting point but not hot enough to burn his skin, she held the bowl high over his chest and tilted it so that the wax trickled over the spout. She dripped the melted wax on Jean-Claude’s skin in a swirling Celtic knot pattern over his abdomen, slowly moving lower and lower. Jean-Claude moaned at the sensation of the hot wax hitting his belly as he anticipated each new plopping splatter. As she approached his groin she stopped. She ran her hands over his lats and up the side of his chest and neck. When they had made eye contact, she said, “Are you ready?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Harper continued to slowly drip the melted paraffin down over his hip bones, carefully circling his pelvic area. When she approached the sensitive area of his erect shaft, Jean-Claude was breathing heavily and looked about ready to blow. She split off and followed his muscular legs down to his knees and then back up again, carefully avoiding his penis, which was now bobbing and fully erect. She stood back to admire the design she had created on Jean-Claude’s body.
“What a good and trusting sub you are, Jean-Claude. Now for your reward.” Harper took his steel-hard shaft into her newly oiled hands and quickly brought him to a satisfying completion. When his cum had stopped spurting onto his belly, she quickly wiped him clean with a warm cloth and covered him. “Rest a few moments, and then we will remove the wax.”
Harper filled a bowl with ice cubes from the dispenser in the armoire, took one, and began to trace the wax pattern with the ice cube. When the wax had hardened, she took a short knife and carefully began to peel the hardened wax from Jean-Claude’s
sensitive skin. He moaned and whimpered as she again came close to his reinvigorated shaft, this time with a knife in her steady hand. “Still trust your Mistress, sub?”
“Yes, Mistress. I know you would not hurt me.”
When all of the wax had been removed and Jean-Claude’s skin had been massaged with a soothing lotion, Harper bent forward and grasped his still-erect penis in her long-fingered hands and stroked him until he spurted onto his belly a second time. He had totally slipped into subspace. She carefully wrapped him in a soft blanket and led him to an upholstered love seat near the wall. She sat on the love seat beside him and pulled him into her arms. She petted and soothed him until he came around.
When Jean-Claude had returned to his full senses, Harper kissed his cheek and sent him off. She looked up and straight into Morgan’s penetrating coal-black gaze. He cocked an eyebrow at her and gestured her toward the door.
* * * *
Morgan was impressed by Harper’s steady hands and unrelenting concentration on her task. He wasn’t quite as impressed by the sight of her soft hands around the young steward’s cock. He had already determined that she was going to be his, and only his. Now he just had to implement a plan.
Chapter Six
Captain Constantine Cortelis watched his officers prepare to depart New York Harbor. He surveyed the console on the bridge of the Golden Dolphin, overlooking the array of navigation and control screens. He had been briefed by all of his senior officers, including the chief mate, Alex Dragados, the navigator, John Donato, the chief engineer, Eddie Cervantes, and the head steward, Casey Campbell. All systems were up and running, all supplies and equipment were aboard, and all was in order. The Golden Dolphin was ready to leave the pier.
Harper's Submission [Golden Dolphin 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 2