by Nina Pierce
Ethan’s mouth curved in a weary smile. “You sure you’re not hurt?”
“The blood’s Derek’s, he cut himself on the…Oh, never mind.” She headed to the door, remembering she had no way back to the main lodge. “How’d you get here? It seems my kayak’s drifted away in the storm and I need to find my Master.”
“We found your kayak drifting in the storm. I came on a Jet Ski, hoping to find you hadn’t capsized in the squall.”
“Nope.” Her smile made her cheeks ache. “Seems Derek saved my life twice this afternoon.”
* * * *
Derek slugged down his tonic water, slamming the glass on the mahogany bar of the club and swiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. He’d like to have something stronger, but it wouldn’t do to face Ethan with alcohol in his system. He’d get stinking drunk tonight when he was back in Boston.
Isn’t that what someone did to celebrate the beginning of celibacy?
This weekend had been his last chance to prove himself a capable Dom, and he’d fucked it up good. Even if Ethan didn’t blackball him at every BDSM club on the planet, Derek would never step into another dungeon.
The screwup with Sara had only confirmed what he’d suspected eighteen months ago—he had no right dominating anyone. The experience brought only pain and misery to anyone foolish enough to submit to his stupidity.
He’d felt so confident as he’d pulled down her defenses, encouraged by her willing response to his masterful technique. In the end, his arrogance had blinded him and now Sara was paying for his inadequacies.
Sara. He’d left the bungalow hours ago, the Jet Ski unable to help him outrun his shame. He’d reached the main dock, covered in blood, and had taken himself straight to the medic for eight stitches—without anesthesia. It was only the beginning of the penance he would pay for how he’d mistreated Sara.
Derek had thought he’d read her right. Thought he’d understood what she’d needed.
Never, in six years working in the dungeons, learning the nuances of submissives, had he ever pushed someone past their breaking point. Even before a safe word was uttered, a worthy Master knew when to stop. Knew when to switch gears and go in another direction to give his submissive what they needed to release their inner turmoil.
He’d thought Sara was ready, well on her way to healing. He’d arrogantly butted up against her defenses, unwilling to admit defeat. That is, until Ethan had burst in, acting as the conscience he’d steadfastly ignored.
But, Christ, he and Sara had been in sync.
Like a final puzzle piece dropping into place, he’d heard it echo in his heart. As her body had shattered around his, he was sure he’d reached the core of her anguish. He’d desperately wanted her to clear that one last hurdle to rid the final hellish damage from her soul. Derek had pushed because, damn it all, she’d needed the physical pain to be the conduit for releasing her inner pain. It was textbook D/s.
Who was he kidding? Nothing Sara had told him had been in the textbook. She’d given herself to an asshole who’d used her gentle spirit against her. The bastard had held her prisoner for his own selfish satisfaction. Who did shit like that?
Arrogant idiots, that’s who. His fist slammed down on the bar, bouncing his drink, pain singing up his arm.
“Don’t.”
The soft voice startled him.
He turned to find Sara standing behind him.
The black leather corset, intricately laced up her ribs and belly, stopped just below her breasts, its shelf showcasing the alabaster mounds. Decorative chains hung from the gold collar she’d worn last night, their ends looped around her pebbled nipples. A leather G-string hugged her pubic bone, barely covering the silken flesh. A garter belt hung from the bottom of the corset and ran down her milky thighs, holding up black stockings that showed every curve of her never-ending legs, finishing in come-fuck-me heels that added four inches to her height.
Sara was breathtaking, and he had no right to be salivating over seeing her. His cock, not understanding this gorgeous woman was off-limits, jumped to attention nonetheless.
“Sara, sorry doesn’t—”
“Shhh.” She put her finger on his lips, the sweet scent of her wrapping around his nostrils, stealing his breath. “Master Derek.” She paused, her eyes and hand dropping simultaneously. “May I call you Master Derek?”
“Just Derek.” Christ, even after the way he’d treated her, she offered him respect he hadn’t earned. “I don’t deserve any other title.”
Her mouth curved and a small laugh escaped. “I beg to differ.”
The bartender stopped and offered her a drink, but she declined. Derek had no doubt she was headed to the Masters’ lodge for the training he’d been invited to attend. The Doms would be lucky to have her responsive body at the ends of their floggers and whips. Though he’d lost the right to be among them, he allowed his gaze to travel the length of her sinuous body, memorizing the details that would torment many future nights of loneliness.
“Would you like to take a walk?” she asked. “The evening is beautiful.”
His stomach clenched when her gaze dropped, offering him respect he didn’t deserve. There was no way in hell he’d allow her to give him the honor of dominating her. He would accept whatever condemnation she threw his way—Sara deserved that much before he left—but her absolution wasn’t even an option.
“Please don’t.” With a finger under her chin, Derek waited until her questioning gaze met his. “I will walk with you, but not as your Master. I lost that the right.”
She nodded and turned, leading them both out of the club and toward the main building. Tropical flowers and lush foliage lined the stone path, but neither competed with the heady scent of her or the stunning visual of her bare ass provocatively swaying with each step. Her wheat-colored braid nestled between delicate shoulder blades, but it was the ugly horror of his teeth marks at the curve of her neck that captured his attention. Guilt squeezed his heart. How much more would she have taken if Ethan hadn’t stopped him? Fear snaked up his back and lifted the fine hairs at his nape. How the hell hadn’t he sensed what Ethan had instinctively known when he’d burst into the bungalow? Derek forced his shoulders back, fighting against the disgrace and shame weighing on them.
The sun slipped below the horizon, the last vestiges of light swirling in pastel shades of pink and orange. In the east, the sliver of a moon hung in the ebony sky, pinpoints of stars spreading across its velvety darkness. The evening breeze blew in over the ocean as they crossed the front of the main building.
Sara was only vaguely aware of the people they passed. It wasn’t their open admiration she sought, but the power of the man walking beside her.
Every fiber of her being screamed to have Derek lead. Have him strip her bare and use her for his own pleasure. But he blamed himself for Ethan’s misunderstanding and now was unwilling to take his place as her Master. Sara had no doubt if her dear friend hadn’t burst in like a Neanderthal protecting his woman, that she would happily be bound in the dungeon at the Masters’ lodge, every muscle taut with the anticipation of Derek’s commands. Because, if the afternoon had proven anything to Sara, it was that she wanted more of Derek’s domination.
Now, she was forced to implement a plan B and prove to Derek that trusting his instincts had healed a submissive’s very old and very raw wounds.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and Sara had all she could do to keep her feet steady on the path. Anticipation had been her constant companion as she’d taken over an hour to prepare herself for him.
A long soak in a hot tub of rose-scented oils and a sharp razor had smoothed every inch of skin. She’d washed her hair twice, straightening it until it glowed, and at the last minute deciding on the French braid currently bouncing against her back to keep it out of her way. Makeup covered the worst of the angry cut on her cheek and the bruises and scrapes the rocks had left on her body. The butter-soft corset, fishnet stockings and stiletto heels she�
��d slipped into before leaving the bungalow had been a splurge she’d brought from home, and from Derek’s hungry look back at the club—a total bargain.
Now, as they neared the Masters’ lodge, she could only hope she could convince Derek she was everything he needed. She stopped midway across the bridge overlooking the wraparound pool, the bondage equipment along its edge currently standing idle. She didn’t want to screw this up. Sara just couldn’t imagine leaving the island tomorrow without plans to see Derek again.
She’d travel anywhere to be with him—if only he’d have her.
The symphony of insects blended seamlessly with the steady wash of the Atlantic in the distance, and she worked to slow her heart to its natural rhythm. It was a night meant for lovers. She hoped Derek felt the same. But when he stopped behind her, his body rigid, she wondered if she would be able to convince him he owed it to the BDSM community to keep working as a Dom, even if it wasn’t with her.
Leaning her elbows on the wooden railing of the arched bridge, Sara waited him out. It went against her nature to speak first.
“Sara, I never intended to let things get out of control this afternoon.”
“It takes time to learn the nuances of a stubborn submissive,” she replied without looking at him.
“I’ve been in a lot of dungeons and worked with many subs. I’m not a stupid man.”
“And I’m a big girl.”
“But I was the one who was supposed to be in control. I should’ve stopped when I sensed it was too much, not continued to press you past your comfort. Safe word or not, I should’ve known when to stop. I’m not sure why I didn’t.”
She turned to him, daring to look into his eyes. Even in the waning light of the evening, she could see what this confession was costing him. “Because I needed you to push past my defenses.”
“I hate to remind you, but subspace isn’t the place where rational thoughts reside. That was my call.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself.”
“I’m not being hard enough. I didn’t keep you safe. Period.” Anger laced through his words. “It’s the first job of any Dom. Care for your subs. Ethan has drilled that into my head. He had every right to be furious with my actions.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, not to hide her nakedness but to protect her heart. “Yes, well, Ethan tends to be a little overprotective where I’m concerned.” She paused, working to measure her words. Not all her secrets were hers alone. “Derek, there’s…a history between Ethan and me.”
“His love for you is obvious.”
She startled at his statement and then laughed, her hand absently falling on his biceps. “Like a brother, Derek. Trust me when I say there’s nothing romantic about our relationship.”
He furrowed his brow in confusion. Obviously he’d misinterpreted Ethan’s protectiveness.
“Ethan is the one who introduced my husband to me.”
Derek’s low whistle cut through the night. “No wonder he hovers like a mother hen.”
She laughed, despite herself. “Yeah, well, if you haven’t noticed, he hovers over all of his guests. I think that has more to do with his matchmaking skills. I swear, the man can’t find his own true love, but he sure is anxious for all his friends to find it.”
“I was pretty sure he set me up to find you at the lagoon this afternoon,” Derek said. “Of course he didn’t expect me to—”
“Stop.” Sara put her hand up between them, frustration making her voice unusually loud. “Please stop blaming yourself for Ethan’s overreaction. What you did, what we did together…” Her tone softened. “It was exactly what I needed. It’s exactly what I wanted for this weekend. Derek, I’ve been in therapy for two years, but nothing was going to completely heal me without coming here to XTC Resorts where it all began.”
“Which was the reason you went to the private lagoon today.”
“I needed to prove to myself that Marc doesn’t have any power over me anymore.” She inhaled deeply, finding strength in the spicy scent of his cologne. “But my therapist also told me that some aspects of my life with my late husband will never quite disappear and that it would be up to me to discover which cues will drop me right back into the nightmare.
“Being your submissive was freeing, Derek,” she continued. “Don’t you see that? I felt cherished and safe even as I relived my hell. There was healing in the telling.” She laid her hand in the center of Derek’s chest, his heart hammering beneath her palm. “The smell of leather before you bound me was like a drug, feeding my addiction. I won’t ever be able to get enough. But something you said triggered a reaction so deep I know I’ll never be able to let it go.”
Derek’s hand snaked up to hold hers, understanding sparking in his eyes. “Beautiful.”
Even after all they’d been through, the word shivered down her spine and Sara had to force herself not to cower under its power. “Yes.” She worked to push the words past the acid burning in her throat. “Marc…he…he…”
“It’s okay, Sara, you don’t have to explain. I was wrong to push you so hard.”
“No, don’t say that.” Frustration rode on the words, making them unusually loud in the tranquility of the night. “You were right. It was all so right. I wouldn’t know I couldn’t handle it if you hadn’t tried. I would’ve told you if Ethan hadn’t barged in.” She pushed on, gathering courage from the heat of Derek’s body pressed against hers. “See, the thing is, it was Marc’s word. His subtle way of controlling me when we were in public. When he called me beautiful, it was when he found me the most loathsome. No amount of groveling would stop the punishment I’d earned when he used that word. And it wasn’t sexual punishment but a retraining for whatever offense I’d committed. What Marc did to me was unconscionable. But the fact that I played a willing role is beyond insane.”
“Sara, now it’s your turn to stop. Marc is the only one who carries the blame here. It’s over and done. You’re free to be your own woman.”
“And I have you to thank for the gift of that freedom. He’s gone. Marc’s gone and there’s nothing but a gentle peace I haven’t known in years filling my heart.”
Derek’s hand, warm and firm, squeezed hers. “You did that. Not me.”
“Ethan told me you wouldn’t take credit.” Her other hand found its way to his stubbled cheek, her thumb caressing the hard knot in his jaw. “Derek, I trusted you to keep me safe even as the ghosts of my past came to life. I faced every terrible memory and found strength in your presence. There’s no way I could’ve done that alone.”
He released her hand and turned from her, casually leaning his elbows on the bridge and tucking his booted foot between the rails. “You weren’t safe with me, Sara. I push and push and push. Way past people’s limits. I’m the Dom, I should know my sub’s limits. If Ethan hadn’t saved—”
“Ethan’s timing could not have been worse.” She studied the inky blackness of the pool below, swallowing her trepidation and praying she did this right. “We both had something to prove to ourselves this afternoon. Only it seems I was the only one who’s willing to acknowledge it.”
Derek stiffened beside her. “What did Ethan tell you after I left the bungalow?”
“You know better than that.”
Derek nodded. They both knew that regardless of what the resort manager knew about Derek’s fall from grace, Ethan would never betray a friend’s confidence.
“Am I so transparent?” he asked.
“I’m submissive, not deaf. You mentioned something about losing your job and being shunned by the BDSM community last night at the club. Whatever happened has rocked your belief in yourself.”
“Yeah, you could say that.” Restless, he turned, leaning his back against the railing, his face turned up toward the stars, unwilling to meet her gaze. “I got cocky and ended up putting a submissive in a degrading situation.”
“A rookie mistake, but not worthy of being ostracized.”
He looked down at he
r, his face a wash of shadows and light. “Problem was, I wasn’t a rookie and I should’ve known better.”
“Mistakes happen.”
“Yeah well, this was much bigger than an ‘oops, we’ve been caught doing the nasty’, it ruined both our lives.”
“I have a hard time believing—”
He pushed away from the railing, towering over her, deep lines etched in his brow. “What? That my arrogance got the better of me? That I didn’t actually blindfold and hogtie a co-worker in my office, while her father just happened to be touring my father’s architectural firm?”
Sara refused to cower to his anger. This man had forced her to push through her pain and insecurities and now she owed him the same. Despite what Derek was saying, she refused to believe the situation was his fault.
He laughed bitterly and threw his hands in the air. “I can’t imagine why our fathers went ballistic when they walked into the conference room while she was sucking my dick and fired us both on the spot.” He turned and began pacing.
“So I suppose you stripped her naked and tied her up against her will?” Sara put her hands on her hips, her words more a statement than a question.
“I would never—”
“Oh, so you shoved your cock in her mouth when she begged you to stop?”
Derek stopped, his head dropping and his voice softening. “Sara, I see where you’re going with this, but unlike what happened to you, this is my fault. I was controlling the situation. I completely humiliated her in front of her father and got her fired. My father lost a huge design contract that would’ve netted the firm millions. Safe. Sane. Consensual. I’m pretty sure my actions were none of those.”
“Who’s idea was this little scene?”
He looked at her, confusion furrowing his brow. “I don’t see what that—”
“Who’s. Idea. Was the scene?” she asked again, walking toward him. She didn’t know this particular submissive, but she knew women. And sometimes it didn’t matter whose life a woman ruined as long as they got what you wanted. She hoped her gut instinct was right. “Who seduced whom?”