Island Captive: A Dark Romance

by Jane Henry

  Perfect.

  I stroke her sweet pussy until her hips rise, but as soon as I can tell she’s building toward release, I pull my hand away. She grinds her ass on the bed, a silent protest at not letting her come. I give her pussy a sharp swat to punish her for that, but the little curlicues of hair make it impossible to really punish her there.

  It’s time they went.

  I grab the curls and tug. The pink flush that colors her cheek looks good on her.

  “It’s time you were bare,” I explain.

  She shakes her head with terror, her eyes betraying her.

  “No, sir,” she says. “I don’t want you to do that. Please don’t.”

  I’m torn between wanting her to fear me because of who I am and wanting her to trust me for what I’m about to do.

  Her blonde hair tumbles about her as she shakes her head wildly.

  “Enough, Nadine.” The head-tossing continues, so I deliver a sharp slap to the fullest part of her thigh. “I said enough.”

  My handprint blooms against her tanned skin. Her shaking stills, but her eyes follow the glint of the blade. It’s a safety razor with five finely-honed blades, with a pale pink handle. I take the small bottle of baby oil I got from her bag, as well as the little bottle of conditioner.

  “I need those,” she whispers, but I don’t respond.

  “And what… what will you do when the refills run out?”

  My lips twitch. I suspect she knows exactly what I’ll do, as she’s watched me sharpen the thin, razor-like blade I found in our supplies by the fire. But we’ll deal with that when we need to.

  “Part your knees,” I command. The breezes stills outside our window, as if everything hinges on her obeying me.

  Her blue eyes trained on mine, she slowly parts her knees. I allow my gaze to swing down her bare belly to her pussy, swollen and wet. Her body’s learned to become aroused when afraid.

  She’ll be rewarded for that.

  I kneel in front of her and place my hands on her inner thighs. Just resting, my thumbs pointing inward to her pussy. I flex my fingers and gently knead her bare skin. It’s soft and supple, lightly scented like fresh lemons from washing with her soap.

  “Relax,” I breathe, massaging the pads of my thumbs in a circular motion. “Let it go now.”

  She nods, her knees falling even further apart now.

  “Good girl,” I approve, just before I bend and place a fluttering kiss on her inner thigh. A gentle swipe of my fingers through her slick folds heralds a promise to her: if she does what I say, I will reward her.

  Eventually.

  “You are not allowed out of this building without my permission, Nadine.” My voice cuts sharply through the quiet. She cowers a bit, pulling back from me, but nods. “What should I do with you?”

  Her eyes flash at me, a hint of steel in her voice. “Whatever the fuck you want.”

  I bend over the bed and cage her in, my muscles flexing as I hold my body over hers. “That’s right, sweetheart,” I drawl in her ear. “That’s exactly. Fucking. Right.” I fist her hair in one hand, the silky blonde pale against my tanned knuckles. Tugging her head back, I wait until she whimpers, and her mouth hangs open in a gasp. I take her open mouth with mine in a brief, harsh kiss that eases to gentle, and as soon as she sighs into the kiss I reach my left hand out and slap her exposed pussy. It’s not as effective as it will be, but it gets my point across.

  She whimpers in my mouth, and I spank her again, and again, until her eyes water. Careful not to harm her, I strike hard enough she knows she’s being punished. If she’s as well trained as I think she is, she’ll be dripping when I go to taste her.

  I release her mouth and brush mine against her ear, still tugging her tawny hair in my fist. “You do not disobey me without answering for it.”

  I let her head fall on the pillow and stalk to the foot of the bed, like a lion on the prowl. Swinging my gaze to hers, I dare her to move. Dare her to say one word of protest when I lift the blade.

  “What happens when you disobey me, Nadine?”

  Humbled by the spanking, she speaks in a rush of words, “You punish me, sir.”

  I kneel, lift the bottle of baby oil, and place the blade where she can see it, face up on the bed. I open the top of the oil and tap several drops into my palm. My eyes focused on hers, I dip the tip of my finger in the tiny pool of oil and lubricate my index finger.

  “Open,” I order.

  Her knees fall open further and she stifles a tiny whimper. I massage the oil around her tender curls, the scent of her feminine arousal stirring my cock. I take the bottle and tip several drops of oil on her folds. She watches, bemused, a little line forming between her brows. Has she never fingered herself with the oil?

  I thumb down the length of her swollen slit. She hisses and arches her back, needing more. I stroke and fondle her until she writhes, and her clit swells. She’s ready to climax when I remove my fingers altogether.

  A dry sob wracks her body.

  Good.

  “You didn’t like that?” I ask. She shakes her head, eyes closed. I spank her inner thigh and her eyes fly open. “Good,” I bite out. “You’re being punished right now. Why am I punishing you?”

  “I disobeyed you,” she says through clenched teeth.

  My jaw clenches, I add a few more drops of oil until she’s well saturated. And then I begin. Carefully, so delicately as if she’s as fragile as a wisp of spun glass, I draw the blade across her sweet curls. She closes her eyes, as if to block out what I’m doing. I clean the blade and wipe a cloth across her skin, then go back to shaving. The silence in the room is broken only by her deep breaths and the soft scrape of the razor against her skin. I continue until her entire pussy is shaved bare.

  “There,” I say, stroking my finger through her folds. “That’s better, now isn’t it?”

  She blinks, and stares at me, then finally nods. “Yes, sir. I guess.”

  I look at her quizzically. “You guess? Well maybe it’s best I show you why it is.”

  She watches me warily when I pat her dry. I untie her legs and position them over my shoulders so that her bare folds are in front of me. My breathing hitches. God, she’s sexy.

  “You won’t come until I tell you to,” I remind her. “If you do, I’ll whip you with one of those branches outside the window.” The wind whistles and the branches sway as if they’re conspiring to punish her with me.

  I kneel and take her pussy in my mouth, groaning when bare skin hits my lips. I grind my mouth against her, suckling her tender spot until her body tenses and I can sense she’s on the verge of climax.

  “Do not come,” I order, returning to her pussy to lap at her so well she writhes beneath me.

  “Please,” she begs. “Sir. Adrian! Please let me.”

  “No.”

  I let her go and pace around the bed again, touching her breasts, flicking her nipples, palming the full slopes at her hips. I kiss every inch of her from the tips of her toes, up her thighs, across her midsection, and up her belly, then drag my tongue to her navel.

  Five times I bring her to the cusp of climax, then stop.

  She never cries when I spank her, not even when she was soundly strapped with my belt. But now, tears brim in her eyes.

  Good. Maybe she’ll think twice the next time she’s tempted to disobey.

  She stopped begging the fourth time. Now she’s slumped in her restraints. When I bring my mouth to her pussy again, she whimpers and can’t help but arch toward my mouth. I suckle and tease, holding her ass in my hands. This time between swipes of my tongue, I lift her legs and spank her. I don’t say a word, just alternate kissing and licking her sweet pussy with firm smacks of my palm on her backside, until her pussy is swollen, and her ass is red from her spanking. I pull her clit in my mouth, bringing her closer and closer to climax, then release her a final time.

  Her eyes are closed. Her body is boneless. This time when I let her go and don’t bring her to cl
imax, she sighs into the bed and doesn’t open her eyes.

  Without a word, I leave the room. She’ll get a break before I return for another round.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nadine

  I’m floating, I think. Or maybe I’m sinking. I’m not sure which it is. He’s taken me to the edge of bliss and back so many times, my clit is literally throbbing and swollen. There is nothing beyond my need to come. Somewhere on a distant planet, in a galaxy beyond where I am now, I’m a little hungry and thirsty and tired, but here, where he left me, I’m so ready to climax it hurts.

  Of course, I can’t reach myself since my wrists are still bound. Instead, I try to rub my thighs together vigorously, even clenching the muscles of my pussy, but it’s no use.

  He’s in utter control of me.

  My ass stings from the sharp spanking he gave me. I grind my pelvis against the bed, hoping to somehow make myself come, but it isn’t going to happen. I have to distract myself. I need to think of another time and place.

  He went out. Where did he go? We need a few things, and he likely went to go fetch them. He’s been enjoying building a fire at night. Maybe he went to get some wood or kindling.

  I need to come.

  I gulp for air and focus on breathing. In and out. In and out. Just breathing.

  I need to come.

  I shake my head and clear my thoughts. No, I don’t. I went for years without coming, so it’s hardly going to kill me if I don’t now.

  But reason isn’t helping me now. I have no power here. My wrists are bound, my ankles secured, and my body teeming with Adrian’s touch.

  What have I let him do to me?

  But before I can entertain that thought, the door opens, and he enters the room.

  “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson?” he asks.

  I blink and look about the room stupidly, like he might be talking to someone else. He raises a brow.

  “Yes.” Maybe now he’ll let me climax? “I mean yes, sir. I have. I really, truly have.”

  I watch as he leans against the doorframe. He’s a tiny bit thinner than he was before the crash, but still large and muscular. His shoulders dwarf the doorway, and when he crosses his arms on his tanned chest, I can’t help but look at his corded forearms, then my gaze travels south to the flat, detailed planes of his abs. He looks like some type of god.

  I close my eyes and will my thoughts to clear. For Christ’s sake, I should know better than this. I’m letting my need to climax overshadow literally everything else. I’m actually feeling turned on by him, and I shouldn’t be.

  But what, really, has he done, other than willing my obedience, and spanking me a few times?

  Isn’t that enough?

  This. This is what he’s done.

  My pussy’s bare like a little girl’s, my wrists ache from the restraints, and my most sensitive parts throb. This is what he’s reduced me to, a dependent with no privacy left to speak of. I turn my head away from him.

  “Look at me, Nadine.” The command from the doorway echoes like the crashing of waves on rocks.

  I ignore him for as long as I reasonably can, just enough so that he doesn’t punish me again, then finally turn my head to look at him.

  “What have you learned?” he asks.

  To be smarter when I disobey him.

  “To do what you say,” I parrot.

  He pushes off the doorframe and walks over to me.

  I don’t want to do this again. No. I can’t take it, not again.

  He kneels in front of me and parts my legs, but this time I pull them together.

  “No, sir. Not again.”

  He quirks a brow up at me. “No?” He frowns and his voice grates like sandpaper. “If I need to punish you, then I’ll fucking punish you.”

  I know. God, I know. I only nod. I look away from him, my eyes watering. Jesus, what has he done to me? What has this man made me?

  He falls to the floor in front of me and lifts my legs, draping them over his shoulders.

  “Are you going to obey me, Nadine?”

  “Yes. Fucking yes,” I groan. He breathes on my pussy, the warm air making my clit throb. I’m so ready. God, I’m so ready.

  “Good,” he says, bending down to swipe his tongue along my slit. I groan and grind against his mouth, needing harder, longer, faster. He laps and suckles, lifting my ass so my pussy is presented to him like a feast and he’s a starving man. I throw my head back, my need to climax rising so quickly I can’t control it. If he tells me not to come this time, I’m not sure I can hold myself back. One hand drops from my ass and I hear the whir of a zipper. He’s pumping his cock while he eats me out and fuck if that doesn’t make me even closer to climax.

  “Sir,” I breathe. “Please. God, please.” The thought of being denied again makes my throat close up. “I can’t wait. Oh, God.”

  He pulls his mouth off my pussy. “Will you obey me?”

  “Yes. God, yes. I’ll obey you,” I moan, grinding against his mouth. The whiskers from his beard graze the sensitive skin between my thighs, in sharp contrast to the soft, wet feel of his mouth on my pussy.

  He lets me go and for one quick second I think this is it, he’s toying with me again. I’m going to die. Not from starvation. Not from thirst. But this, this will be my death.

  I cry out loud. I need the pressure of his mouth. The touch of his skin. I can’t take this anymore. It’s unbearable torture. But he’s still holding me, black eyes burning into me as if he can see inside my head, inside my soul, as if he knows I’m harboring resistance and only begging for release.

  “Will you?” he asks, and to my shock, he reaches for my inner thigh and pinches it. I yelp, and before I can respond his mouth is on my pussy again, working me up so fucking good he’ll split me wide open.

  “Yes,” I pant. “God yes.”

  He nods, his tongue probing deeper and harder when his head bobs. My body tenses, preparing to climax, but I fear he’ll leave me on the edge again. Pulling his mouth away he growls, the heat of his breath warming my thighs. “Whose pussy is this?”

  “Yours,” I sob, my body quaking at the precipice of climax. “Yours, sir,” I groan.

  He responds with one slow, lazy swipe of his tongue that nearly kills me.

  “Who owns your orgasms?” he rasps, his eyes going half-lidded. He pumps himself harder.

  “You do,” I moan, a tremor ripping through me right on the edge. I can’t. I can’t climax right now, or he’ll whip me. Not until he says. Not until he lets me.

  “Please,” I cry. Who is this man, who’s brought me to the cusp of insanity like this? If I don’t come, I’ll lose my mind. I can’t take another second of this torture. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

  Lifting his mouth off my pussy again, his eyes bore into me and his voice drops to a deep, feral growl. “Who’s your master?”

  “You,” I nearly weep.

  He nods, pleased. “You ever fucking defy me again and this will go on for days. Weeks if need be. Do you understand me?”

  I believe. The goddamn son of a bitch never lies. Ever.

  “Yes. Yes, sir,” I nod. I do know. I’ve been soundly punished. I won’t defy him. Fuck, if he lets me come now I’ll do whatever the hell he says, and I know it.

  “Please,” I whisper.

  He nods with the final blessedly welcome command, “Come for me.”

  His swipes his tongue along my slit with perfect rhythm one last time, and I lose my mind.

  I thrash against the restraints, the power of my orgasm a torrent of mind-blowing pleasure and ecstasy. I come so hard I stop breathing, stop thinking, my eyes closed tight as my body is wracked with the power of my climax. Lights flash behind my eyes and I think I can’t possibly take anymore, then a second orgasm tears through me on the heels of the first. A scream nearly deafens me, and I don’t know until I’m cascading down the slope of that climax that it’s me, losing all control in a flood of overpowering pleasure. A third follow
s the second, impossibly stronger and more intense than the first two and somewhere in the distance I hear him roaring his own release. I come so hard and so long when I finally fall to the bed half-dazed, my whole body aches from the tension and power that swept through me.

  He’s wrecked me. I’m completely fatigued. I can’t open my eyes. I can hardly breathe. A few moments later, someplace far away, my restraints are undone, and I’m rolled over onto my side. Soft fabric flutters over my shoulders and thighs. A comforting warmth presses up against my back, a familiar arm wraps around my waist. I drift off to sleep.

  When I wake, it’s hours later. It’s got to be nearly dinnertime now. My stomach growls from hunger, but my body still aches from the punishment he inflicted. I’m quiet and subdued, like a chastened child.

  His rustling behind me tells me he’s awake now, too. Did he sleep? Or did he lie next to me, keeping vigil?

  “Are you awake, Nadine?”

  I nod my head. I’m not sure if I open my mouth to speak if I can say anything.

  “Come here.” He rolls me on my side and to my surprise, cups my cheek in his hand. It’s nearly tender. No… it is tender. The gentleness is somehow more disarming than when he’s harsh with me.

  “How are you doing?” he asks in a deep rumble. “That was a pretty harsh punishment you underwent.” His eyes quickly narrow and his voice lowers. “Not that you didn’t deserve it.”

  I try to look away but can’t, since he’s holding my cheek in his hand.

  “I’m starving,” I admit.

  He huffs out a laugh that startles me.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ll get you something to eat. Stay here.”

  Where would I go? I’m starving and the man’s bringing me food.

  And I don’t ever want to be punished like that again, I think.

  I don’t like to admit that he’s subjugated me. But the thought of getting up out of this bed and disobeying him makes my stomach clench in fear.

  I close my eyes and think of my mama. Where’s your petite belette now, mama? I think. Who am I? What have I become? Am I doomed to live the rest of my life under his thumb?