by Maren Smith
She had to get out of here. Now. Before somebody saw her and started laughing.
Snapping around on her heel, Maddy tried to run, all the way back down the hall and across the compound to the safety of her apartment, except she promptly slammed into a wall of chest muscles that she'd never heard walk right up behind her. The collision nearly knocked them both over but Dominick caught her first, hooking his arm around her waist and yanking her in close before he grabbed the wall, stabilizing them both.
"Whoa," he laughed over the top of her flustered, "Oh my God! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you!"
"I hear that so often." Grinning down at her, Dominick's laughing brown eyes took on a whole new gleam of appreciation. No longer in danger of falling, he relaxed his grip enough to allow a few precious inches between them, enough to look her over. "I, however, definitely saw you."
The nervous fluttering within Maddy leapt a notch higher as his gaze moved from her face to her breasts, to the waist she wished were a couple sizes smaller, and the rounding of her hips, amplified by the cut of her short galaxy skirt, that swirl of Milky Way colors playing upon her curves in all the right places.
"Very nice," he said, sending a languid rush of heat flooding straight to her womb. Her pussy contracted, a clutch of quivering muscle that registered in equal degrees wanting and confusion.
"It's probably too fancy," she stammered, "but Rita said there would be costumes, so it's a-all I-I brought…"
She stopped when his dark eyes, that look of appreciation already fading from their depths, found hers. They still glittered, but now with a level of severity that Maddy had never experienced before he'd swatted her earlier that day. More than his wolfish appreciation, that look left her flustered.
"I just paid you a compliment," he said, soft but with a sternness that only intensified the coolness of his expression. "You responded by apologizing for the way you look."
She couldn't look at him when he was frowning like this. Her gaze dropped, first to his chest and then away from him altogether. She couldn't find a single safe place anywhere in that hall to fix on. Not the ocean blue and silver swirled carpet, or the nautical themes on the wall, or the tiny ship in a bottle on the table down the hall. "I-I-I…"
He didn't wait to hear it. He took a step back. "Turn around."
Dread quivered up her legs, and that awful prickling sensation she thought she'd escaped more than twenty minutes ago returned, filling up the flesh of both her bottom cheeks. The black lace of her panties, no longer seductive, became a scouring pad on her skin. A whisper of cool air moved up under her skirt, gliding up the backs of her thighs to tease her heated core.
Rubbing her palms against her hips, Maddy obeyed. She stared unseeing straight ahead, barely aware of the play of starfish and sea shells in the muted wallpaper once she felt the warm press of his open hand come to rest on her stomach.
The clap of his first swat as he caught the seat of her skirt was loud as a gunshot, and so was the startled gasp she sucked in in response. If not for his hand, she'd have lost her footing on the second smack, then the third. Her whole bottom felt alive, the sting of castigation and (how absurdly) pleasure centering directly under the space where his hand remained, almost perfectly aligned with the divide of her buttocks so that the lay of his fingers followed its downward curve. She swore she could feel the very tips of them, touching her with an intimacy she hadn't felt since long before her divorce. They were there, right there, just centimeters from stroking the moist and shadowed recesses of her vaginal lips.
"What did I tell you?" he asked, still soft, still stern.
"Turn around," Maddy squeaked.
"Before that."
For the life of her, she couldn't remember that far back.
"I said you looked nice," he reminded. "Don't contradict me again. In this regard, you aren't allowed. Is that clear?"
"Yes." Maddy nodded in tight and rapid assent.
The fourth swat came completely unexpectedly and with even more force. Her hips jumped. So did her right foot and, afraid he might think she were trying to run away, just as quickly Maddy jumped back into position. She trembled. His firm hand, flat and ready to deliver more if required, lay even lower upon the curve of her bottom. There was no mistaking where his fingertips touched her now. Without permission or apology, the very tips were pressed between her thighs, taking heady ownership of her sex.
"Yes, what?" he demanded.
"Yes, Sir." She had never called any man 'sir' in her life. She didn't balk at doing so now.
"Don't forget again." The heat of his hand left her stinging bottom. A few seconds later, his other on her stomach abandoned her, too. "Look at me."
That her shaky legs didn't immediately give out under her when she turned around was a miracle Maddy didn't have time to dwell on. Without a word, when he offered her his arm, she took it. Side by side, her bottom an absolute amalgam of fire and ice and stung desire, they walked into the dining hall as if they belonged there.
Not one person seemed to note their arrival. At least, not at first.
A buffet line of hot dishes had been set up on two long serving tables at one end of the room near the swinging kitchen doors. A dais stage filled the center of the room, surrounded on all sides by tables and booths, with a floor show already engaged in an erotic performance that was likely quite mild by Dominick's standards since he hardly glanced at it, but which dropped Maddy's jaw from the moment she realized the historically-dressed serving maid backed up against that giant wooden X, wrists stretched high above her head and legs widely forced apart, was actually chained to it that way. Her skirts were rolled and pinned around her waist, leaving her naked and vulnerable the rest of the way down. Likewise, her heavy breasts hung free over the top of her corset, the swollen tips of her nipples covered only by silver clamps linked together by a thin necklace-like chain that glittered under the multicolored lights.
She wasn't on that stage alone, either. A man stood with her, dressed not as a pirate but in the high-ranking navy-blue and white uniform of an American military officer. That this one wielded a white vibrating wand wasn't historically accurate, but no one seated at any of the surrounding tables seemed to object. Neither did the serving wench. With her head thrown back, she gasped and writhed as the officer pressed the loudly humming head between her imprisoned legs.
"If you cum before I allow it, your punishment starts over from the beginning," the officer told her, the loudness of his voice carrying for the benefit of the entire room.
"Oh my God," Maddy said, her whole body quivering at hearing that threat. How many nights had she lain awake, wishing someone would say that to her?
Dominick cast the scene on the stage a critical glance. "If he really wanted to torment her, he'd put another clamp or two on her clit."
Maddy swung around to stare at him, every bit as shocked.
"Peel the hood back, expose the clitoris. She won't be able not to cum, but then that gives them both the pleasure of starting over." Giving her bottom an absentminded pat, Dominick turned her toward the buffet tables. "Let's eat."
Tight-lipped mewling cries followed them to the buffet tables. Maddy took the white china plate Dominick handed her and, unable to stop herself, asked, "Is that what you'd do?" Looking back at the stage, she almost added 'to me', but managed at the last second to bite that part back. Not only because, wow, how presumptuous, but also because just wow.
Cutting himself a portion of basil and brie omelet along with a wedge of baked pineapple toast, Dominick smirked. "To you?" he asked, guessing what she'd left unspoken. "No." Before he moved down the line, he leaned sideways into her. "At least, not at first. We'll work our way up to that. Omelet?"
Startled, Maddy blinked from him to the serving utensil he held up. "Uh… no, thanks." How in the world could anyone think of food—the serving wench moaned, high-pitched, her pleasure sounding almost agonized—with that going on in the background? Maddy's stomach chose that moment to r
umble, loud enough for both of them to hear. His smirk grew wider; she blushed and searched the length of the table, across a wide array of culinary dishes available. There wasn't a single carrot anywhere to be seen.
Dominick moved from plate to bowl, adding a few pieces of fruit and cheese, macaroni and cheese patties dusted in coconut, baked chicken drenched in a chutney of mango, tomato and cilantro, coconut cream cake, turkey in some kind of spicy lemony red sauce, banana fritters and rum raisin bread pudding, and something which according to the plaque was called escoveitch, but which was, in reality, raw fish cold-cooked in lime juice.
"Do you like seafood?" he asked, hovering over a pan of steaming lobster tails and crab legs. The entire dish was glazed in lemon and butter.
"Uh…" Maddy studied her choices again. Everything was covered in sauce of one kind or another, either savory or sweet. Even the fruit was coated in sugar and served in a ring of clotted cream. No matter what she picked, it was going to be a moment's heaven on the lips and a week's worth of hardcore spin-cycling to get back off after this vacation was over. "I'm okay. I'm not really hungry."
She stopped when he did. Swiveling on his heel, he looked at her. All his good humor was gone and he was frowning at her again.
"Do you have allergies or restrictions regarding any of the food on this table?" he asked bluntly.
Feeling cornered, Maddy took a strawberry. "No," she confessed. When he continued to frown, she took two more.
"All right, let's put this to bed right now." Setting his plate on the edge of the buffet, he turned on her. "You are at a vacation resort. That means you are allowed to indulge a little when it comes to meals. If you have dietary restrictions that make eating anything out here uncomfortable for you, then I want to know what it is and I'll make arrangements with the kitchen. But you will not skip meals. You will not limit yourself to three strawberries at breakfast. There will be a protein on your plate three times daily, and if you mention weight gain to me as an excuse for not obeying any one of those three very simple rules, then we can cut through all the bullshit; we'll go back to my room right now, I'll spend the next twenty or so minutes busting your backside until your little ass is redder than those strawberries, and then, when you can't bear the slightest touch for all the fire and pain I've put into you, I'm going to bend you over the first thing I find and fuck you the way I like to fuck."
He likes to fuck in ways that hurt…
Maddy swallowed hard, her pussy spasming in violent response to the way his tone lowered, becoming a growl as he said, "Hard, deep fucking. So deep you'll feel me all the way into your throat. Do you know how long it's been since I've had the chance to fuck a woman who wasn't a bony stick? I'm not just going to slam into you, Maddy my dear, I'm going to break the goddamn bed with you."
She couldn't feel herself breathing, though her chest kept rising and falling. Rising and falling, fast and shallow.
"The bruises I'm going to give you will mark you as mine and you will wear them in places only another lover will see." His gaze dropped to her mouth when he said that. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her. "If I let another lover see them. I might just decide to be selfish while I have you. For the short time in which I do have you."
She could feel her heartbeat pulsing in her clit. Her whole sex throbbed along in time.
"Questions?" he asked, his gaze at last rising from her unkissed lips back to her eyes. His voice became a seductive purr. "Comments? Speak now, or forever hold your peace."
Maddy didn't realize her plate was tipping until she felt a strawberry bounce off the top of her toes. She quickly righted her plate, then cleared her throat. "Um… I'd like a lobster tail, please."
His frown gave way to a smile, yet his eyes never quite lost that light of dark severity. He put a lobster tail on her plate. By the time they left the buffet tables, she'd added chutney chicken and rum raisin pudding to it, as well as another four sugared strawberries and a slice of mango, since she'd never tried it before. She told herself she wasn't going to regret a bite of it either, not after what he'd just said to her, but that conviction faltered the moment she caught sight of Tessa and her boyfriend front and center at a table by the stage.
That Tessa had been watching them for a while was obvious by the sullenness of her glare. The minute she saw Maddy had noticed her, her chin lifted and her lovely face turned haughtily disapproving. She said something to her boyfriend, who shifted his attention from the stage to Maddy, though not for very long. He shrugged, then turned away again.
"I see her," Dominick said. His free hand touched the small of Maddy's back, directing her toward an empty table as far from the stage and everyone else as they could get. They would have to walk past Tessa's table in order to reach it, though. Maddy's gut clenched so tight it almost hurt, but Dominick's hand on her back remained just above her bottom and he pushed her onward. "Keep walking. Head up. Strut your shit. Own it. You've got nothing to be ashamed of."
She wasn't ashamed. Why should she be ashamed? She had nothing whatsoever to be ashamed about. Her legs still shook, but Maddy walked where he pushed her, past all of Rita's other guests, most of whom remained oblivious to her, absorbed as they were by the shrill cries of the serving wench who finally lost her battle with the vibrating wand. She came with a sobbing wail that was only part defeat and which ended in a short string of curses when the officer took the wand from between her legs, snapped the clips off her nipples and said, "Now we start again."
They had drawn abreast of Tessa's table and were almost completely past it when Tessa stood up.
"Master Dominick," she called, her sulky lips giving way to a well-practiced smile. "Come and join—"
What suddenly possessed her, Maddy couldn't begin to say. One minute she was walking, and in the next, she'd swung around, grabbing a fistful of Dominick's shirt so he couldn't pull away. She licked him, right there in front of Tessa and everybody. Straight up his chest where his shirt was gaping, the tip of her tongue snaked through the valley between his rock-hard pecs, tasting nothing but the overall cleanliness of his skin, a little soap, salt and cologne.
To his credit, Dominick took it without the slightest sign of revulsion. In fact, when Maddy finally let go of his shirt and stepped back again, hugely embarrassed, all she saw on his face was intense surprise and amusement.
Blushing hotly, she cleared her throat and turned back to Tessa. "I think I've decided to take you up on your offer."
Ignoring the naked fury that lit gray fire in the other woman's bugged out eyes, Maddy walked away. This time, she didn't stop until she reached the table in the farthest corner. She set her plate down before her wildly shaking hands fumbled and dropped her food all over the floor.
Setting his plate beside hers, almost as if he were trying not to laugh, Dominick asked, "Was that an 'if you lick it, you own it' sort of thing, or—" He let the question hang.
"I'm so terribly sorry." Maddy covered her burning face with both hands. "I don't know what came over me. I—"
She gasped when he grabbed her wrist, spinning her around to face the table and pinning her left arm behind her back. Sweeping her blonde hair off her neck, he caught her that way too, closing his fist in her tresses and pulling her head back, arching her right onto her tiptoes and holding her immobile. She gasped all over again when she felt it, the tip of his hot tongue caressing up the side of her neck to just behind her ear. The heat of his breath burned the same path he tasted, raising every fine hair she owned to stand on end an instant before she felt his teeth. He bit, gently letting her feel every sharp and heady point.
"I do so love it that we speak the same language," he growled, and let her go.
CHAPTER SIX
"Okay, page two," Dominick said, and twenty-six people (including him) turned the page in the protocol packets he'd passed out at the start of this—dare he say, lecture?—well over four hours ago. As promised, Emil had filled the conference room with twenty-five of his best Masters; only
two of which were women. Dominick knew they were masters not because they were all dressed in the elaborate garb and feather-plumed hats of pirate captains, but because each and every one of them had introduce him or herself as 'Master' or 'Mistress'. As far as he knew, they'd each picked up the title along with their 'Welcome to the Island' employee packets. That not one of them seemed to have earned that distinction bothered him no end, but he was determined to pick his battles, and that one simply didn't rank when it came to all the other issues he'd found with their standard operating procedures alone.
"Problem number four." Standing at the head of the massive oval conference table, he took a sip of water and swished it around his dry mouth before swallowing. "Direct your attention to paragraph one, sentence one. Who here can see where I might have an issue?"
A sea of bored and puzzled faces returned his stare. Dominick fought back a sigh and all the frustration that went along with four hours of effort when he couldn't seem to get through to any of them. So far, despite Emil's assurances that he would be cooperated with to the fullest extent, these people were treating him as if he were an internal affairs officer sent to audit their behavior.
He put his glass down, struggling a moment to keep his annoyance in check. Like he wanted to be here any more than they did. Like he'd have ever voluntarily disrupted his comfortable routine and set foot on that damned plane if he hadn't been forced. Like he didn't have a sexy blonde bombshell waiting for him to come find her, strip her beautiful body down to nothing more than a breathless blush and a smile, before showing her in exquisite, minute detail just how much she could take without breaking under him. He had no desire to break her, but oh how she would be under him. She would be under him in ways the Kama Sutra never envisioned.
He glared at that long table of pirate-garbed wannabes, barely aware of them for the soft, pretty flush of embarrassment he could already see stealing up into Maddy's cheeks as he robbed her first of her clothes, and then her inhibitions and, finally, of the very last vestiges of her innocence. Because that was how she struck him. Despite her age or regardless of any lack of virginity, she was innocent in all the best ways.