by Maren Smith
She wasn't wearing makeup today. When he rode her mouth, choking her on the depths to which he forced himself into her throat, there was no mascara to darken the tracks of her watery tears. There was no blush of smeared lipstick to ring the shaft of his cock when he at last pulled from her mouth and let her gasp for breath. When he took his position behind her, a stinging swat to her left buttock hurriedly dropped her from her knees to her hands and knees. Her pussy glistened, already so wet that he slid in on a single conquering thrust. The hot spasm of her body gripped him, welcomed him deeper. Harder. Her grunting cries as he battered the rippling swells of her ass were hardly stifled by his grip on the belt around her neck. The force of his thrusts threatened to beat her down onto her belly in the dirt and leaves; his hold on her collar and leash brought her bouncing back onto him again and again, until she adopted the aggressive rhythm, making it her own.
It had been a long time since he'd last felt anything quite as tight as sinking his thumb into her ass, and nothing short of heaven compared to the heated grip he encountered when he at last withdrew so his cock could take its place. He used the slick oils of her body and saliva to ease his entry, because it was all he had. Maddy gasped, but didn't cry. She didn't stiffen or squirm or plead with that coy, half-embarrassed glance so many submissives played when being used this way. Not his Maddy. Just as soon as he was in her, she picked up the rhythm again, pumping back on him, and the only pleading she made was the one that begged permission to cum.
He was a kind Master, considerate and oh so very obliging. He let her ride him, the intoxicating ripples of each bumping impact moving over her lush body, the sight of his cock driving into her tight ass, over and over again, sending those same trembling waves all through his molten veins until he could feel it centering in the bow-string tension of his balls. He let her grab her clit, doing nothing more than covering her hand with his own so he could feel it when she rubbed herself. Controlled it with a shift of his fingers, convincing her to pinch, pluck and tweak instead. And when she came, oh how she clamped down. Her cry and his reached the same guttural and growling pitch as they fell together, panting, sweating. Spent, among the leaves and roots.
He stayed inside her. Needing that closeness, wanting to feel each latent tremor as it assailed her. His submissive. His Maddy.
His.
* * * * *
The first boat was well on its way back to the Poxy Strumpet when Emil gave the bosun's whistle another shrill blow. Standing at the bow of the second rowboat, he let the sound ring up one side of the beach and then the other. His dark eyes watched the woods, gleaning the slightest movement that might indicate a person emerging from those shadows instead of monkeys or parrots. He looked at Maso standing quietly beside him, clipboard in hand, then his mouth flattened in a tight, impatient line.
"Like we haven't wasted half the day here already, where the hell are they?" Grabbing up his whistle, Emil sucked a breath deep enough to deliver another powerful blow, but stopped when he saw a lone silhouette exit the deep jungle shadows. His mouth tightened when he recognized who it was.
"Sorry I'm late," Tessa drawled, more bored than apologetic.
Far more cordial than Emil currently felt, Maso marked her name off his list. "Not a problem. You're not the last person to make it back. We've still got two unaccounted for."
"Oh, who else are we waiting for?"
"Master Dominick and Maddy."
Hiking a thin-plucked eyebrow, Tessa sidestepped Emil with a high, tinkling laugh and climbed into the least crowded of the two remaining rowboats. "That makes me the last after all. They went back to the ship over an hour ago."
About to blow his whistle again, Emil stopped. "What?"
"They weren't here even twenty minutes," Tessa said, taking her seat. She glared until the person closest to her moved to another bench, giving her a little more room. "She snapped a few pictures, said she was bored, and he had two of the crew take them back to the ship."
Eyes narrowing, Emil gave her a long, assessing stare. "Why don't I believe you?"
Head cocked, she gave him an equally long 'are you stupid' look in return. "Like I could possibly be mistaken about either him or that fat cow."
In the other boat, one of the pirate oarsman tentatively raised his hand. "Actually, um… Bill and John did take some of the passengers back to the ship while you were touring with the insurance guys."
Turning that hard look on the pirate, Emil drew in another deep breath, this time for patience. "Are you serious? Why didn't you say something?"
The pirate shrugged. "You didn't ask."
For a moment, Emil stood there, the sun beating full on his back and shoulders. He knew the islands weren't far enough out to be in international waters, not that he could get away with a good old fashioned pirate murder just now. There were, frankly, too many witnesses.
"You ride with him," he told the man with the clipboard. "If I go in that boat, I'm going to kill him."
He got in the same boat with Tessa. Just a few more days and then the tour would be over. As the two boats shoved off the sand and started the long row back to the Poxy Strumpet, he shook his head. He never should have left his old job. If this was how the rest of his life at the resort was destined to be, he'd rather still be working at the Clarion.
Face turned out towards the water, lost in his own thoughts, Emil failed to notice the way Tessa sat at the front of the boat, watching the retreating beach get smaller. A smug smile twisted at her lips.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"I've never seen so many hummingbirds!" Maddy exclaimed, already popping the lens cap back off her camera. It wasn't hard to see why, even on an island this small, there would be so many. Everything was flowering. The ivy coating the forest floor, the vines trellising up the trees, the fruit laden branches that sought so valiantly to block out the sky—everywhere he looked there was a veritable rainbow of blossoms in every shape and size, some alone or in clusters, or dangling down in grape-like bunches. What wasn't flowering now sported the fruit buds that fed the monkeys and parrots and giant guinea pig-like rodents which Dominick kept glimpsing out of the corners of his eyes.
"It's pretty," he agreed. Thumbs hooked in his belt, he trailed behind her, obligingly glancing at the things her artistic side found impossible not to squeal over, and keeping a wary eye out for anything that might be a snake, spider, centipede, or whatever else might be out to kill them. So far, he'd seen three centipedes, a half dozen iguanas, one possible scorpion, and two teeny-tiny leaf-green frogs.
"I love this stuff," Maddy confessed, tossing a grin back at him between pictures.
He could tell, and that was the only reason why they were still out here, roaming from one flower to the next, one cluster of feeding long-tailed hummingbirds to the next, and one long end of the island to the next. "We should probably head back."
It wasn't that Dominick didn't love nature. In the normal course of his everyday job, he and nature simply didn't come into contact all that often. The closest he got was poker night, when a casual walk through the Grecian gardens took him to and from Jackson's house. He wasn't bored, not by a long shot. But he was starting to become aware of how much time had passed. The sun was hanging low in the sky, much lower than he'd expected without being recalled to the boats. Of course, who knew how long the insurance agents would actually take. Doctors, lawyers, taxes and insurance—no matter what a guy did, any appointment with one of those always took longer than anticipated.
"Come on." Dominick held out his hand, beckoning her back from the lip of the jungle and out onto the comparative safety of the sand, where he was standing. "Maybe we can get them to stop here again on the way back to the Colony."
But she was here now, and that disappointment was all over Maddy's face as she capped her camera and let it hang around her neck again. She let her hand be taken by him, but even as they walked away, she kept looking back.
"I could live here," she said wistfully.
"If you did, you wouldn't appreciate it the way you do now."
"Cynical." She bumped his shoulder playfully.
"But true," he argued. "Vacations let you see things with open unspoiled eyes. It all looks new, because it's all new to you. Once you start seeing it every day, it becomes familiar and, take it from me, familiarity will rob you of the beauty."
"Spoken like a man who knows what he's saying."
"Hm." He allowed himself a small and, yes, cynical, half-smile.
"Is that what happened to you once you started working at the Castle?"
His half-smile grew broader. "It took a couple years," he allowed.
"Do you ever think about quitting?"
Now he grinned. "And give up all this?" He spread his arms, encompassing both the woods and a wide stretch of sandy beach leading to the sparkling ocean waters. The setting sun painted the rippling waves in the same pink and orange hue of the sky. He looked around, dropping his hands again. "Yeah, okay. This, I could give up in an instant. The Castle, probably not. My life is there. My money's there, too." He thought about it as they walked. "I like what I do."
"Yeah," she softly laughed. "I can tell."
"Well, not the travelling part." They neared a bend in the island. Once they circled that outcrop of obstructing forest, they should be close enough to see the rowboats. It had been a while since he'd seen any guests or the pirate crew. They were probably the last people to come wandering back. He grinned, already anticipating Emil's sour mood. Emil was a lot like him: all business, little patience for broken routines or fools. He really liked Emil. "But I do like the rest of it. You should come out to the Castle sometime." He squeezed her hand. "You could write an article on us. See me on my home turf, when everything is at its best."
He squeezed her hand again and she looked away, but not before he saw her smile diminish just a bit.
"Yeah," she said again, even softer than before. "I'd like that."
The statement didn't match her tone, however, and he knew why the instant he heard it. Just mentioning meeting up again had forced to both their minds the ugly reminder that first they'd have to part. She wasn't looking forward to it any more than he was. That should have made him happy. Oddly, as they walked together with her hot little hand held in his, he actually started to miss her.
"Maybe you shouldn't come after all." When she glanced up, he squeezed her hand one last time. "I'm the Dungeon Master, remember. I might just chain you to my wall and never let you go."
Maddy looked away again, but this time she did it laughing.
Step by step the forest outcrop began to part, revealing glimpses of the beach beyond. Although scuffing footsteps marred the sand as far as could be seen, no boats waited in the surf to meet them. They'd just walked the entire length of the other side of the island; he knew for a fact the boats weren't there. Maybe the next bend, but even as he thought it, a zing of sheer iciness puckered right up through the middle of him. Almost immediately, that zing was replaced by absolute outrage.
He didn't realize he'd stopped walking until he noticed Maddy had, too.
"Didn't we leave the boats… here?" she hesitantly asked.
"You've got to be kidding me." Letting go of her hand, Dominick broke into a jog. Out of the jungle shade and down the footstep littered sand, he ran until the wet of the rolling ocean waves turned the soft ground solid beneath his boots. There was no sign of where they'd beached the rowboats; already the waves had washed all signs of them away. Pissed as he was, he could have continued to run all the way down the beach to the next bend in the island, but he didn't need to. The truth was right here in front of his disbelieving eyes. Not only were the rowboats gone, but there was no Poxy Strumpet anchored just beyond the shallow reef.
The ship was gone. They'd sailed on without them.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Dominick roared out across the inrushing waves. He scrubbed both hands through his hair, slapping them at his sides a half second before he felt a hand grab the back of his sleeve.
"They didn't leave us here, did they?"
He swung around, taking in the suddenly quiet island, void as it was of any other people, and then Maddy's face, both pale and oddly flushed from having chased him from the trees to the waves. She was panting and her eyes were huge as she searched the huge body of water spreading all the way to the horizon before and around them. The Poxy Strumpet was nowhere to be seen.
"How could they just leave us?" There was more than one small hitch in her voice, and he didn't for a second think it had anything to do with being out of breath.
Too pissed right now to feel anything else, nevertheless, all his years of training kicked in. He caught her, hooking his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her in for all the reassurance he could muster. It wasn't much.
"They know where we are," he said into her hair. "When they realize their mistake, they're going to come back for us. Trust me, we won't be here even a day."
Smothering her face into his chest while he rubbed her back and stroked her hair did more than comfort her. It helped prevent her from seeing the murderous stare with which he swept the fire-lit horizon, searching for even the smallest peak among all those waves that might denote the tallest mast of a seventeenth century pirate galleon. Their names had been on Maso's clipboard. A procedure was in place to prevent this very thing; how had it happened?
"Not even a day," he said again, forcing himself to calm and his hands on her back to gentle.
"You sound so sure of yourself."
He was. Because if they weren't back here by morning, like him or not, Dominick was going to kill Emil.
* * * * *
"It's nice to see all that training from Webelos to Eagle Scouts wasn't wasted." Maddy stretched her toes to the fire Dominick had built using scrap driftwood, dead leaves, coconut fibers, and a hell of a lot of sweat and persistence. It was the first time she'd ever seen anyone start one from scratch like that. It was very impressive. So was the makeshift lean-to shelter he'd built from sticks and palm fronds. They'd be bedding down on his coat, unfortunately, but they'd had less than that the night they'd fallen asleep in the flowerbeds. At least the beach wasn't crawling with sand fleas.
"Wait until you see what I learned while stripping," Dominick replied, keeping a careful watch on the end of the stick he was charring in the flames. It was his third attempt at crafting a spear, and it was incredibly crude. Without a pocket knife, he'd done his best to sharpen the tip using his belt buckle and some broken seashells, before charring it in the fire, scraping it again. Charring, scraping. Over and over; wash, rinse and repeat, until by now the end looked quite pointed. What he hoped to catch with it, she didn't know, but she suspected any animal sleeping low in the trees tonight ran the risk of becoming a main course. She hoped it wasn't anything she'd taken pictures of earlier. On the other hand, she hadn't eaten since lunch, and the sun had set hours ago. Peckish didn't begin to describe what her stomach was now putting her through.
"Does it involve tons of free drinks and beer nuts?" she asked, hugging her knees a little tighter in an effort to muffle her belly's rumbling complaints. "I could dive face first into a huge barrel of beer nuts right now. It'd be a happy suffocation."
There went the corner of his mouth, twitching up into that handsome half-smile of his.
"Good," he said, pulling the spear out of the flames to check the business end. "Then you won't be picky about what I bring back."
"Please don't let it be cute." Don't let it have fingers, either. She closed her eyes, crossing her fingers as he got up and headed out into the dark beyond the scope of their campfire. He wasn't gone long before she heard a loud wooden 'thunk!' A few minutes later, the shadow of him walked down the starlit beach toward the black of the inrushing waves. That he had both the spear and something else dangling from his hand was clear, but he was too far away and it was too dark for her to make out what. Whatever it was, it looked awful droopy. She changed her prayer. "Please don'
t let it be a snake."
Hungry as she was, she didn't think she was up to sampling roasted snake. Her stomach rumbled again and she covered it with both hands, rubbing to soothe the hollow ache.
Dominick crouched in the surf as he gutted it, tossing the insides as far out to sea as he could chuck them. When he stood up, she watched as he studied the ocean. She knew what he was looking for, because every now and then, she looked for it too: lights. Anything that might indicate a ship, preferably one already heading right for them. So far, the only thing she'd seen had likely been a freighter, and it had been so far out to sea that the lights kept winking out of view behind the gently rolling tide.
Footsteps in the sand caught her staring. Maddy quickly averted her eyes and hugged her knees tighter. As soon as Dominick was close enough, she made herself smile. "Ah…" she said, doing her best to sound optimistic about what he'd caught for dinner. "Iguana."
"I understand the tails are a culinary delicacy in some countries." Circling the fire, Dominick hunkered down across from her.
"So are mashed-fly hamburger patties, rat rotisserie, and garlic sautéed tarantula. I watch the Discovery Channel too."
Cocking that smile of his, he skewered the large lizard lengthwise upon the spear that had killed it and then sat down in the amber glow of the campfire to cook. "Are you bitching or complaining?"
"Is there a difference?"
"Sure. One gets you paddled, the other gets you spanked, fucked, and maybe choked a little, depending on my mood."
"Which one leads to spanked, fucked and choked again?" She meant to be light and teasing. Funny, how it came out sounding seductively breathless.
In a blink, his attention shifted from the lizard to her. There was such a world of depth in those dark and knowing eyes. Although much cooler now than it had been when the sun was up, the night was plenty warm enough and yet, that look shivered her. She hugged her legs tighter, trying to hide it, but he saw that too. The other corner of his handsome mouth curled upward.