by Linzi Basset
She quickly rinsed her face before she walked into the living area. Voices from the patio drew her attention and she headed that way to find Drake having a beer with a humongous black man.
“This is my slut, Rita.” Drake seared her with a snarky look. “Chuk Okeke is my FBI buddy who is gonna help us screw that bastard.”
“Okeke? Are you of African origin?” she asked, sitting down on a chaise lounge.
“Nigerian. I was drafted by the FBI fifteen years ago because of my special skills.”
“Chuk is an expert in African guerrilla warfare which made him invaluable over the years identifying and eliminating terrorists threatening the States.”
“A very noble profession,” she said but knew better than to smile at him. Drake was watching her like a hawk. He might not love her but he was possessive over her body. Not that he claimed exclusive rights to her. Oh no, he shared her with his friends too often for that. That was how he rolled, as he always said. It was his choice who she had sex with.
“Enough chit-chat. Were you able to find out anything else about Shane Sinclair?” Drake leaned forward in eager anticipation.
“You do realize I couldn’t ask anyone at the FBI to investigate him, especially since he’s part of the company controlling the FBI’s data and security systems.” Chuk seemed amused at the irritation flashing across Drake’s face.
“Are you telling me I wasted my time and money coming all the way here … for shit?”
“No, the initial intel I supplied was common knowledge, and to track that cell phone call was child’s play that I could do personally. Anything on top of that …” he shrugged, “it’s gonna cost money, my friend. The question is, can you pay?”
“Of fucking course I can pay! What the hell do you think of me?”
“Word is that you’ve been hitting the tables pretty hard in Los Angeles and losing. I’m not footing this bill for you, Drake, so don’t fucking toy with me.”
“Just get me the information I want.” He snorted. “We’re gonna walk away from this island filthy rich and the only way you’ll get your share of the loot is if you do your share of the work.”
Chuk stretched out lazily, his black eyes glimmered with distrust. “And you? What exactly is it that you’re doing in this scheme of ours?” His gaze narrowed. “Apart from ordering me about.”
“I’m the brains of this operation as you very well know. Don’t forget, Chuk, I’m the one who approached you and only because you’re my buddy. Don’t fuck it up for me because I can just as easily decide to kick you out.”
“That sounds suspiciously like a threat—something you should take heed not to attempt with me, buddy. You won’t like my reaction.”
“Cool the fuck down,” Drake sneered. “All I’m saying is that there’ll be more than enough money for both of us.”
Chuk’s gaze flashed to Rita. It clearly hadn’t escaped his notice that Drake had excluded her as a beneficiary. She pressed back in the chair as she watched his expression turn vicious. It surprised her, since she had an eerie feeling that somehow it was because of her, of how Drake was using her for his own selfish reasons. She recognized the promise of unrestrained violence in the depths of his eyes. This wasn’t a man to toy with. He was dangerous, very much so. Something that Drake was completely oblivious to. Her mind raced at the possibilities. If she were clever, he could be her ticket out … away from Drake. She’d have to play her cards right, especially to ensure she didn’t end up alone and uncared for. Excitement stirred to life inside her as she regarded his muscled physique. Her loins flushed with heat at the thought of him plowing her depths with his strength. She bit her lip to keep the groan from crawling to the surface. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced with Drake for many years.
Lust … pure unadulterated lust.
Sachem Pond on Block Island, Washington County, Rhode Island …
“It feels like everything has ground to a standstill, Evans. Give me some good news. We need to do something to stop the fucking Sinclairs from breathing down our necks or we might as well kiss our deadline goodbye.” Rebecca paced the length of the patio, agitation in every step. “Not to mention the hold we currently have over the crime syndicates and the Mafia.”
“I stumbled on an interesting tidbit.”
She spun to face him. “Well? Are you waiting for an invitation? Spit it out.”
“Our esteemed assassin, Billy Hewitt, has a daughter.”
Her eyes turned glacial. “I thought he was a loner? From all the reports I’ve seen on him, he never got married.”
“True, but she was the result of a torrid affair he had as a young man. It took some serious dark web research to find that. Other than that, there’s no intel available on who the mother is or who Hewitt was prior to him joining the Green Berets. It’s like he appeared out of the mist at the age of twenty-one.”
“Yes, yes,” she waved him off. “I already know all of that. Tell me about his daughter. Can we use her to get to him?” Her expression turned evil. “That bastard has to pay for interfering in my business. If not for that, we would’ve been in charge already.”
“Fair warning, I don’t have exact confirmation that she is his daughter, but he’s been seen in her presence on Key West a couple of times … very protective over her as well.”
“Who the fuck is she, Evans!?”
“Ava Harper.”
“Never heard of her … or no, wait. I remember vaguely that President Grayson used her hacking services to try and trace his best friend, David Yale.” She cackled a laugh. “How poetic!”
“Here’s the kicker. I met her on The Seven Keys Island. She’s also Parker Sinclair’s fiancée.”
“Well, now that’s even better. Two flies with one swat! Ah, Evans, you just made my day.” She sat down. A gleeful smile played on her lips. “Now, if you can tell me where to find Billy Hewitt or his lovely daughter, it’ll be the perfect day.”
“I’ve got surveillance teams on every one of the Sinclairs’ private properties but it looks like they’re all hiding out on that fucking island at present. Obviously, they know they’re all targets.”
“That’s not what I want to hear. What about Hewitt? Is he hiding out there as well?”
“I don’t know. I asked our undercover agent at the FBI who has been gathering intel on him to widen the search. I have a hunch Hewitt doesn’t live in the U.S.”
“Good thinking. What about David Yale? Have you been able to find out where they’re holding him?”
“He’s not at any of the FBI safehouses. We’re checking the interrogation bunkers of the Secret Service and the DOA at present. I’m doing everything I can to find him.”
Rebecca tapped her fingers on the table. “What about the Sinclairs? They were the ones in charge of that fucking sting operation. Is it possible they have him?”
“We’re already looking into all remote properties they might own. A farm or a smallholding specifically. They’re too clever to hold him at any of the obvious places.”
“Keep digging, Evans. I want David found and brought back home. Without him … our operation is doomed.”
“I will find him.”
“Do you have a photo of Ava Harper?”
“I have a couple, yes.”
“Spread them around. Log it into facial recognition programs in every available system. I want her, Evans. She’s going to bring me Hewitt and I want him so fucking bad I can taste him.”
“Then I will bring him to you.”
Chapter Fourteen
“That’s too much,” Alexa gasped as Shane tightened the harness straps around her breasts. She glanced down, wincing at how swollen and large her breasts already appeared. She should’ve known he had devious intentions with the damn harness corset and panties he had bought from Mira the previous day.
He pushed his fingers under the straps and moved them around. “More than enough room for you to breathe comfortably, so stop complaining.”
; “It’s not my breathing I’m worried about,” she snipped. “My tits are gonna turn blue before we reach the dungeon.”
“Now isn’t that a coincidence? I always thought blue was a gorgeous color on you.” His eyes glowed as he stared at her bouncing breasts as she stepped back.
For the first time, Alexa felt exposed and self-conscious under his appraisal. Why, she had no idea. She’d always basked in watching his eyes darken as he looked upon her naked body. Perhaps it was the nightmare that made her this vulnerable.
She hated the feeling, especially as she found her arms lifting to cover her breasts.
“What is this?” his voice darkened as he grabbed her upper arm to draw her closer. “You know better than to hide your body from me, sub, especially once I’ve prepared it for my pleasure.” His expression didn’t change. “Drop your arms.”
There was no denying the shard of excitement stabbing at her loins at the terse demand. The little devil on her shoulder spurred her on to defy him a little longer. Instinct told her that tonight he was finally going to go all out in a sadistic scene with her.
His eyes narrowed as she lowered her arms just enough for the rosy edges of her nipples to appear.
She didn’t understand why she needed the full force of the sadist from him, since she’d made damn sure after what had happened to her that she was the one always in control. With him, it was different. She needed him to push her past her boundaries, to break the shackles that kept her bound from giving full reign to the needs her body yearned for. To destroy the fear that surged to the surface every time a Dom turned up the pain threshold and prodded her boundaries. Not because it was too much for her but because the horror of what those two insane people had done to her always, always flashed in her mind, destroying the pleasure she could feel hovering at the edge of her conscious mind.
“Ugh, damn,” she muttered sotto voce when her ovaries did an excited quickstep in response to the perfectly executed Sinclair eyebrow crawl. It was the one thing she had no defense against. He looked pointedly at her breasts. She pushed his patience a breathtaking heartbeat or two more before she dropped her arms.
“Hmm, it seems you’re living dangerously tonight, little one,” he murmured as he lifted her breasts for his perusal. He ran his hands over them in a gentle caress, his fingers teasing as he circled the areolas, watching her nipples turn as hard as stones.
“As long as you know that there will be a reaction for every one of your actions tonight, my pet.” He pinched the nubs and twisted them cruelly as he rammed a hard thigh against her throbbing pussy.
Her painful gasps spiked as he pinched harder, all the while unconsciously spreading her legs wider to give him more access.
“Does that hurt, Lady S?”
Her moans escalated as he continued to twist and squeeze her nipples mercilessly. His knowing smile warned her that he was aware of the juices oozing from her pussy, coating his leathers with her essence.
Alexa managed a gasping breath and lifted her eyes to his as he eased off slightly. She brazenly humped his leg and it was all she could do to whimper in a husky voice, “Not enough, Master Fox.”
“Then we’ll have to fix that,” he said with the evilest smile she’d ever seen flashing on his face.
“I have to admit, Lady S, this is the perfect outfit for you. The leather harness offers a seductive enticement to your already sensual body.” Shane ran his hands over her hips. “Not to mention your silky and very naked skin.”
They were in a darkened corner of the torture chamber of the Dungeon of Sin. Her hands were pulled high over her head and strapped to chains hanging from the rafters. The position stretched her harness-endowed naked body so that only the balls of her feet touched the hard stone floor.
Alexa watched him anxiously as he turned to the tray the dungeon coordinator had brought over. She looked at her outthrust breasts, bulging and tight from the harness cutting into her skin all around them. Her nipples were hard, reddened and with the lighter color of her areolas, they appeared like targets. From what he’d done and said in the apartment earlier, she knew it was exactly what they were tonight. Excitement surged through her. She loved breast and nipple torture. It brought the hardest climaxes that always seemed never-ending.
Suddenly he was there, pressing against her back. His arms circled her waist to crush her breasts in his hands.
“Ahh, sweet lord,” she hissed. He was a strong man and he used that strength to torment her as he squeezed and pinched. She was groaning and whimpering in moments, amazed by how little effort he brought her gut-wrenching pleasure-pain.
“That’s better, little one. I find I don’t like your silence as much as I revel in your painful squealing.”
He continued with the brutal massaging a little longer, all the while praising her with every painful cry that escaped her lips. He left her to sway in the chains as he dragged the tray closer.
“Have I ever told you how much I love fishing, Lady S?”
“I can’t recall you ever did, no, Master Fox.”
“A favorite pastime of mine, especially deep-sea fishing.” He walked around her, holding a spool of fishing line in one hand. With the other, he toyed with her breast before pulling it out from her body. With quick economic movements, he wound the see-through line around the base of her areola.
“Hmmmfff,” she moaned at the painful bite of the thin line as he pulled it tighter.
“Now, isn’t that a pretty sight?” He watched until her breast grew darker and turned into an oversized plum before he bound the other one in the same fashion.
Alexa had had her breasts bound like this before but never with the added pressure of the harness already plumping up her breasts, and sure as hell never with something as thin as fishing line. She stared in fascination at the wonderfully erotic plum color, slowly working up to a deep shade of purple.
Shane ensured the lines were tied off properly before he stepped back and regarded her with hooded eyelids.
“How does that feel, my pet?” His eyes narrowed as the tip of her tongue did a quick foray over her lips, leaving them glistening and ripe in its wake. He suppressed the urge to crush them with his own to feast on their enticing fullness.
“It’s … different than anything I’ve ever experienced before. I’m not sure I can find the words,” she lilted. She was inundated with a combination of sensations—the searing bite of the confinement and the deep throb of aching through her breasts. She was shocked and aroused as a thought flashed through her mind. Her heart raced as she glanced at the tray. Nothing would please her more than if he had some hook-removing pliers or even better, steel-spiked catfish gloves in his arsenal to add to the painful pressure of—
Her breath stuttered in her chest as he turned back from the tray with a matching pair of feathered fishing lures. Master Fox had warned her early on that he wasn’t the usual sadist. She now understood his evil grin of earlier. He intended a lot more serious pain for her than she had ever envisioned he would.
She could feel her heart racing … every single beat pounding wildly against her chest. Not through her ears, that was occupied by the steady drum and dark rhythm of the Celtic music in the background; no, she felt it in the blood thrumming through her veins. Piercing was one of the few things she’d never tried. Thought about how it would feel yes, but never trusted any of the Doms enough to take the leap.
But barbed hooks? Holy shitting seagulls! What is the man thinking?
She could feel her skin cringe and tighten as she stared wide-eyed at the sharp, gleaming barbs, fearfully imagining what it would feel like cutting through her skin.
“Ehm … m-maybe you should try something a little less hooky?” she ventured in a breathy voice.
“I suppose I could but then I wouldn’t be fishing, now would I?”
“I resent the comparison, Master Fox, and I truly think a much smaller and thinner tool would be a better option.”
He stared at her with unflinch
ing sternness. “I don’t recall asking your opinion.” He traced the edge of the lure. “Maybe you’re not ready for this and I should just cut you down and find someone—”
“NO!” She bit her bottom lip, forcing back from shouting out, “Don’t you fucking dare!” She was shaken at how badly she now wanted what he promised. Pain-pleasure and pleasure-pain. She wanted it so badly she would beg if she had to.
“Open up.”
She shook her head as she eyed the tool he held in his hand. “I hate ball gags, Master Fox.”
“I know you do but believe me, little one, you’re going to need this one.” His eyes glimmered darkly. “Or don’t you trust me? Do you believe I will hurt you only for my pleasure and not offer you any in return? That I—”
“Just put the fucking thing in,” she cut him short as she shot a cold glare of reproach at him. “I believed you to be above that, Sinclair.”
He flashed her a smile as he forced the large red ball gag between her lips and pushed it as deep as it would go before tying it in place.
“You’re right and I apologize. I’m a little rusty at manipulation.”
“Gmphf.” The flash of her eyes told him what she thought of that statement but quickly lost their fierceness as he once again picked up the lures, all adorned with feathers and shiny hooks.
Her breathing spiked as he palmed her breast. She felt faint with her heart rate increasing exponentially. It was undeniable that the masochist inside her wanted what he was about to do but the sane part of her brain told her it was going to hurt the bejesus out of her … and yet, she wasn’t afraid.
Not of him.
Not of what he’d do to her.
Shane, she trusted beyond anything.
He chuckled as a low moan escaped past the gag as he pinched her nipple and pulled it far out from her body.
“Such anticipation, my pet.” He looked into her eyes. “It pleases me, Lady S.”
The hook catching the skin at the base of her nipple confirmed his claim. He was right, she was already aroused and the pain hadn’t even begun. A searing sting followed as the hook dimpled her breast.