by Linda Barlow
I obeyed. I felt his hands at my waist, rearranging me so my thighs were on either side of his hips. I took his cock in my hand, reveling in the hard smooth column of flesh. He let me stroke him, but the feel of his muscular body beneath mine and his arms around me was just too tempting. My face and jaw were still hurting, but beneath the pain my need was as deep as the ocean.
"Nick," I whispered gazing down in wonder on his strong body lying supine beneath me. His supple muscles were arched against me; his golden hair crinkled against my bare flesh. Together we were beautiful. With my artist's eyes I took in the sight of our two bodies so perfectly mated. I'd like to photograph us, I thought.
"Are you okay?"
"Oh, yes."
"Fuck me hayatim. Take what you need."
"I need everything."
"Slide yourself down on me, but go easy. I don't want to hurt you. You've been hurt enough."
"You can't hurt me," I insisted, grasping him firmly and stroking up and down until I could see the tiny drop of fluid escape the tip.
He laughed softly. "I can and I probably will. But I can make you suffer in other ways, you know, little slave."
I was beginning to like it when he called me his slave. It thrilled me in a dark place that I'd never even explored before I'd met him. "How?"
"I can restrict your orgasms. No climax for you until I give you permission."
"What if I can't stop myself?"
"Severe punishment," he said, but there was teasing in his voice. "Well, maybe not so severe tonight. Someday, though..."
With his hands underneath my buttocks, he shifted me so just the tip of his cock entered me. I arched against it and felt it slide a tiny bit deeper, but he held himself back from pushing in more. "That's about an inch. I think I'll make you beg for each inch. How much do you want the next one?"
"Oh my god, I'm begging, Master. Not just the next inch, please, but all of you."
He pressed a little further into me, then stopped again. "Not good enough, babe." Reaching around behind me, he grabbed a couple of pillows and shoved them behind my back, propping me up a bit. Then he slid his hand between us and rubbed my clit. It was so intense that I practically leapt off his cock...not because I wanted to, but my body spontaneously bucked at his touch. "If I had a feather, I would use it here." The tip of his finger tickled my oh-so-sensitive bud. "Have you ever tried that? Really maddening. Subtle, yet so intense. With a feather, I could keep you keening on the edge of orgasm for as long as I wanted. And, believe it, there will be times when I do want to. Why? Just because I can."
I was panting now. The fingertip he was using on me felt almost as maddening as a feather.
"Another inch?"
"Please," I gasped.
"Please what?"
"Please, Master," adding, under my breath, "sadist."
His fingers dug into my ass as he drove deeper. I don't know how he could contain himself, but he still didn't go in all the way. Looking down I could see his thick cock grasped by the outer lips of my pussy, both of us flushed and sweaty, both of us breathing hard, our muscles taut and trembling. He rocked against me, causing pressure inside, outside, all around my core.
"More." I tried to force myself to grasp him, engulf him, pull him inside me, but he kept resisting. God! I needed to feel him thrust. I needed to ride him. I needed the thrill as we slammed together. I needed the union, the mating, the obliteration of our separate parts...
The hand that wasn't rubbing my clit slid up and around one of my breasts. "Does your breast hurt? Did he touch you there?"
"He touched me, but it doesn't hurt."
"The only one who hurts your breasts is me." He pinched my nipple. Did it hurt? Only a little. I was too aroused to feel real pain in any area that was also erogenous.
"Why do you want to hurt me?" I whispered. "Does it excite you?"
"It arouses something dark in me, yeah. But it's not so much that I want to hurt you....it's more that I want you to feel the intensity. I want you to love it, whatever I do to you."
"I do love it."
"I'll never give you pain that isn't good pain. Do you believe me, Ellie?"
"Yes." I didn't totally understand it, but I knew what he meant. I think I had always yearned for it, too. But it wasn't something I'd been able to ask for, because it seemed so dark, strange, and twisted. "Am I twisted?"
He chuckled, looking down again at the place where we were partially joined. "Oh yeah. You and me both, love. We're so fucking twisted. You want more?"
"Please. I need more." I was squirming on him, arching and bowing my body, trying to get him closer, deeper.
"So eager," he taunted, stroking my clit in that elusive manner. "If you weren't hurt, I would tie you down so you couldn't move at all. You'd be forced to take what I give you and only what I give you, just as gradually as I want it to be." He stopped speaking—his voice was breathless, and I could tell he was on the knife-edge of his control. "I will do that. One of these days." He pushed a tiny bit deeper. He groaned, shaking his head. "Fuck. This is tough," he said, laughing a little. "It drives me wild to see you so desperate."
"Fuck me," I urged him, tilting my hips again. "I need you inside me. All the way."
He held my hips poised there, halfway in or maybe slightly more. I could feel my pulse pounding in my pussy and I thought I could feel his heart beating in his cock. His gaze held mine with such a searingly intimate look that I could hardly bear it. "Please," I whispered again. I was repeating myself, but I couldn't think of any other word to say.
His control snapped. He seemed to gather himself for a moment, then he slammed into me, all the way—his pelvis grinding into mine. He was hot and fierce; it was like being taken by the sun. When he withdrew and filled me again, he hit some spot on my inner walls that was even more sensitive, and the pleasure unspooled within me, making me cry out in wonder. But it wasn't the climax, not yet. My pussy muscles clenched around his cock...thrusting now, driving, jackknifing into me. My entire body tightened into a ball of fevered delight.
"Look at me," he ordered.
In my delirium, my eyes must have closed. Opening them, I saw how intense his expression was. He looked ferocious, but I liked it. His mask was gone. Behind the wildness, I could glimpse tenderness. "You're mine, Ellie." With each word, he gave a furious thrust. "I. am. so. sorry. that. bastard. hurt. you. Never. Again. I. promise. Never. EVER. again."
I couldn't speak, so I just nodded.
"Come for me," he commanded, doing something to my clit again.
My eyes must have started to close again, because he said sharply, "Keep your eyes open and come."
And just like that it happened. As the explosion ripped through me, I forced my eyes to stay locked with his. He was the lifeline I clung to as the waves crashed around me.
"You're mine," he whispered. "Mine to plunder, mine to use, mine to take, mine to keep."
Just before his climax, his entire body turned hard as stone. A marble god—his cock marble hard, too. But then he shattered and cried out, and I knew the stone coldness was an illusion. He was warm and bright and full of life.
"Seni seviyorum," he said, Turkish for "I love you."
"Ben de seni seviyorum." I love you, too.
Chapter 35
ELLIE
Long minutes later, I said, "Don't go to sleep yet." I curled against Nick's warm chest, nuzzling the smooth skin at the base of his throat. "Can I ask you something? You weren't angry with me, were you? When you found me with Nigel?"
"With you? No. I was angry with him. And with myself, for putting you in that kind of danger."
I wasn't sure I believed him. There had been a moment when I hadn't been sure which of us he was going to attack next—Nigel or me.
He must have sensed my skepticism, because he added. "As I've told you, I'm not myself around you. Anger, passion, emotions flying all over the place. That's not the way I usually behave."
"I think I prefer your wild
emotions to your cold, shut-down pose."
"Women have cheated on me—it enrages me. It's guaranteed to send me over the edge."
"But you knew I didn't want to be anywhere near Nigel."
"As so often around you, it's not my brain, but my dick that's in control."
I lifted my head to meet his eyes. "I know about Elizabeth and Nigel. Did you love her?"
He hesitated. Was he finally going to talk to me... share something of his past? He had just told me he loved me. Did it count if it was muttered at orgasm?
"I thought so at the time. We were young. When I caught her betraying me, it blew my mind. And with him, of all people." He shook his head as if the memories were a heavy burden. "She begged me to give her another chance. But I couldn't take her back, not after that. I never thought she'd stay with Nigel, but they ended up having one of those toxic relationships for a while. I found out later that he was abusing her. Bastard. He's charming and handsome—bright on the surface but rotten at the core."
I'd never even found him bright on the surface. I'd seen the rot quickly enough.
"I knew Nigel would come after you," Nick went on. "He's so fucking predictable."
"I thought you were going to kill him. That really scared me. After just finding out you weren't a thief, I didn't want to see you turn into a murderer."
The change of expression on Nick's face was almost comical. "What do you mean, you found out I wasn't a thief?"
"Nigel told me that some artifact you'd stolen had been returned. Real thieves don't give back the loot."
"Wait. What? How the fuck does he know that?"
"And you admitted you were working under cover, trying to save your grandfather. You also told me a few days ago that you had a plan. I'm still not sure what the plan is, but clearly there is more to you than I originally thought."
He was silent, so I prodded, "You told me you'd explain."
"I will. It's just—if Nigel knows the stuff is being returned, somebody has fucked up. Shit. That means he's on his guard. No wonder he's planning to abandon ship earlier than he'd intended."
"He mentioned he'd heard of one case where something had ended up back in the country instead of in private hands."
"There've been a lot more than one case, but it's been done in secrecy. He shouldn't have heard of any cases. Damn. Someone has been careless."
"Well, he's definitely suspicious. He tried to make me tell him what you were planning, but of course, I didn't know."
"People are onto my cousin. Serious people. They want to take him down. Not only for antiquities smuggling, but for other crimes as well. So yeah, I've been helping them achieve that goal."
"It's true, then." I was exultant. "From the beginning you've been playing a role with me. The big, bad antiquities smuggler."
"I had to. I couldn't risk you knowing. I've brought enough trouble down on your head as it is."
I listened while he explained that it had been Nigel who had gotten his grandfather involved in illegal antiquities trading. "I don't pretend that the old boy hasn't taken avidly to a life of crime, but it never would have happened if Nigel hadn't facilitated it. I didn't even know what was going on until an old acquaintance clued me in. The authorities were going to go after both Nigel and Granddad, but I managed to talk them into giving Granddad a break. But to make it work, all his thefts had to be undone by me."
"Undone?"
"Since I've been involved, everything he's stolen has been returned by my agents. Granddad and Nigel think the stuff has been sold to certain private art collectors—the sort of folks who aren't fussy about provenance."
I worked through the implications. "But it hasn't?"
"Not any longer. The private collectors are no longer in the loop."
"Someone must have had to fork over money in exchange for the artifacts. Right?"
"Fortunately, my friend Max, whom Nigel used to bully when we were in high school, is a billionaire. He's the one who lent me the yacht.
"For the scheme to work, it was essential to make Nigel believe that I had turned to the dark side. That's where the human trafficking thing came in. He and I grew up together, so we know each other's weaknesses. He knew that if anything tempted me—" He paused. "Just to be clear, slave trafficking could never tempt me, but kinky sex is a different story. Nigel doesn't draw much distinction between the two. The principle of consent is something that has never resonated with him."
"So you told him you were into human trafficking, and he believed it?"
"I didn't tell him outright. I made sure he heard it from other sources. And then you came along. I realized that it would all seem much more believable if I had a slave in my possession." He grinned at me. "A beautiful young woman who would act submissive around me and obey my every order."
I winced. "Okay, so I wasn't exactly perfect."
"You did fine."
We took a break from the story for some intense kissing. Which turned into intense yearning, desire and need. Soon the question of Nick's true character began to seem irrelevant. Whoever he was, I adored him.
Chapter 36
ELLIE
Early the next morning, Nick and I rowed back into the rocky inlet of Golden Dolphin Island. Metin remained on the yacht, and Nick had tried to get me to stay there, too. "I want you safe. There's no telling what might happen today."
"Well, you're not going back there without me. Besides, I'm scheduled to take the photographs today."
"There's no need for you to do so. I'll tell them you're too injured and upset by what Nigel did to you."
"I'm not going to hide from that bastard. I'm bringing my camera and coming to the excavations." I lifted my chin, which was swollen and aching. I had a black eye, too, but I was determined to wear it like a badge of honor. "It's something I have to do."
He stared at me for a long time, his green eyes seeming to see deep inside me. At last he nodded. "Okay, canim. I'll be there to lend my support."
We landed the boat and hiked over the rocks to the compound. There was a clattering of dishes from the kitchen. The men were up and eating breakfast. "Good, I could use a glass of tea," Nick said as we entered.
They were all seated around the table—Nigel, looking far from his usual suave self, with pale skin, a shitload of bruises, a bandage on his shoulder where Nick's knife had struck him, and a swollen-shut black eye; Sinan, narrow-eyed and more bandit-like than ever; and the workmen, all conversing animatedly until we walked into the room, when a heavy silence fell.
"Gunaydin," I said. I was conscious of a collective hostility as they stared at us. What? They didn't care for the evidence that Nigel had attacked a woman? Of course, Nigel's men were always hostile, but Sir Avery's crew usually had a smile for me.
Instinctively I reached out and grabbed Nick's hand.
"How're you feeling this morning, Nigel?" asked Nick.
Nigel's swollen face widened into his habitual charming smile. "Much better now that I see what a fool you are. I can't believe you've had the nerve to come back here."
"You're the one who should be hanging your head in shame for assaulting Ellie."
Nigel didn't even bother to deny the charge. "I underestimated you," he said to me. "But you've both underestimated me."
"Where's my grandfather?" Nick snapped.
I heard the swish of the wheelchair from the doorway to the corridor behind us. "Here I am."
Nick and I turned. Sir Avery was sitting stiffly in his chair, looking sad and frail. In his lap he was cradling a large-caliber handgun.
"Good morning." He raised the gun, holding it in both hands. "Yes, it's loaded. And yes, I'm aiming it at you."
There was a long, electric silence. I sensed Nick closing in upon himself. He didn't speak, and I was at a loss. Had Nigel convinced their grandfather that the rumor he'd heard about a stolen object returned to its rightful country was true?
Sir Avery looked only at Nick. "I trusted you. It breaks my heart to learn that yo
u could do this to me."
Nick said, "Not sure what you think I've done, but I wouldn't hurt you for the world." Never dropping his gaze from his grandfather's, his voice cracking in a way that just about broke my heart, he added, "I love you, Granddad."
Sir Avery's face crumpled, but he held the pistol steady. After a moment he managed, "Don't insult my intelligence."
Nigel had risen from the table. He was gloating. He moved across the room to a table where he opened the lid of his laptop. "You didn't count on this, did you? Listen." He pushed a button and I heard my own voice saying, It's true, then. From the beginning you've been playing a role with me. The big, bad antiquities smuggler.
To which Nick's voice replied, I had to.
And as we listened, appalled, to part of the conversation Nick and I had had the previous night in our cabin on the yacht.
"You bugged my cabin." Nick's voice was totally devoid of expression.
"I'm afraid so."
"When? The night Metin saw someone swimming away from the boat?"
"That's right. When I realized I wasn't going to escape without being seen, I fiddled around a bit with your fuses and your radio. I didn't want you to guess the real reason I was there."
The cabin had been bugged for more than one night? That meant...
"It took you long enough to confess your real role in all this," Nigel taunted. "But listening to everything else you've been doing there has thoroughly entertained my men."
Nick's face darkened. I could feel his whole body tense. I squeezed his hand hard. Keep control, I told him silently. Now is the time to keep control. But my cheeks were hot with shame and anger at the thought that Nigel had been a silent, smirking witness to us having sex.
"What a shame you decided to clue her in at last. If you'd continued to lie, I'd have nothing, and our grandfather would continue to believe you trustworthy."
Tight-lipped, Nick turned from Nigel to Sir Avery. The old man's grip on the handgun had not wavered. "If you've listened to the entire conversation, Granddad, you know that it was my intention to save you from this mess you've landed yourself in. Nigel is the target, not you."