by Amira Rain
Dressed in tennis shoes, shorts, and a bright orange tank top, she glanced up at the clear blue sky, where Warren, now joined by a few of his men, was still flying around. “You know they all have increased sex drives, don’t you?”
I instantly began choking on a sip of water and spoke in a garbled croak. “What?”
While I coughed, Melissa patted me on the back a few times. “Shifters. They all do. They all have increased sex drives and stamina to match. Just trust me about this.” Pausing, she actually gave me a little wink. “Dan and I are still like newlyweds if you get what I mean.”
I was pretty sure I did, and my face was flaming, but not because of what she’d said about herself and Dan. My face was flaming because I was thinking of increased sex drive and stamina as it might relate to Warren.
I didn’t want to be thinking these thoughts. He was my captor, and no matter how many sensuous dreams and thoughts I had about him, I was determined not to be anything other than barely civil to him until he admitted that he believed I wasn’t any kind of an enemy to his people. That was going to take some distraction and redirection of my thoughts. I told Melissa I wouldn’t be opposed to taking a hour-long run or even a two-hour one.
It turned out that we made it in an hour or so with a few breaks. Hugh did surveillance on me from the air, despite the fact that I told him it was an utterly pointless task, and it was.
“What exactly does Warren think I’m going to do if I’m not watched constantly? Blow up the whole village with a bomb that I hid in my bra before I fell off the cruise ship?”
Hugh shrugged. “I’m not sure exactly what Warren thinks you might do these days, though I think his suspicions are decreasing maybe.”
“Decreasing. But he still thinks I’m some kind of covert ninja or something.”
Hugh shrugged again. “I do know one thing for sure; I think his suspicions about Dalton are only increasing. Dalton’s been a cooperative prisoner, for the most part, but he still refuses to say exactly why he decided to come here. Which has made my suspicions increase.”
I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about Dalton. I didn’t trust him or distrust him. Being that I’d barely spoken to him since the night we’d arrived to the island, I really had no basis to form an opinion. Though I had to admit, refusing to say exactly why he’d come to the island sure didn’t make him look very good.
After our run, Melissa, Hugh, and I ran into Dalton himself, who was trailed closely by his two guards. Like the last time I’d seen him, he was ambling along the beach, collecting pebbles and rocks, which he’d scrutinize briefly, then put into a metal pail. But unlike the last time, he didn’t look happy and content anymore. With a deep crease between his light hazel eyes, he actually looked stressed. Troubled. I wondered if being accused of being a spy was taking a toll on him, too.
That night, I slept horribly, tossing and turning. I wished that Melissa had never told me what she had about shifters, because in the absence of hard exercise or other distraction, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Which might have been in part due to the fact that it had been quite a while since I’d enjoyed any physical intimacy, and I was probably kind of starved for it.
The following morning, I casually asked Hugh if Warren would be in the village that day, or if he still had work to do at the lake. “Not that I really care either way.”
After studying me for a long moment, stroking his salt-and-pepper beard with his mouth seeming to be twitching just a little, Hugh responded. “The lake situation seems to be under control for now. It’s finally stopped filling with that ugly dark water, so it seems like Warren and the other men have finally gotten enough rocks in there. But he won’t be in the village today.”
I tried to ignore a little pang of disappointment. “Oh, really? Why is that? Just out of curiosity. Not that it makes any difference to me.”
“Right.”
“So, where will he be today?”
“Not in this dimension. He’s taking a little trip through his portal to New York City. Said he was going on some little errand that concerns you.”
I nodded, surprised, but at the same time, somehow not surprised. “Taking a little trip to try to find out more about my pre-island life and my activities as a ‘spy,’ I’ll bet. I should have expected this. Well, I hope he enjoys fruitless Google searches and paying for background checks that yield absolutely nothing.”
Hugh lifted his wide shoulders just a fraction. “Who knows what he’s doing.”
Early that evening, after a long day teaching dance in the hot sun, I ate a quick dinner by myself, and then took a relaxing lukewarm bath in my massive stone tub. I’d just finished dressing in comfortable sweatpant shorts and a t-shirt, and drying my long hair and piling it on the top of my head in a messy bun, when I heard a knock on the door.
I answered it, thinking that it might be Melissa or Melody stopping by for a visit, but it wasn’t either of them. It was Warren. Warren, holding a large cardboard box. Warren, looking damn near irresistible dressed in black boots, battered jeans, and a dark t-shirt fitted just well enough to reveal the hard contours of his broad chest.
He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “I know I’m not your favorite person right now, so I won’t ask to come in. I just wanted to give you these. All the way from a different dimension. New York City.”
He handed me the box and left without another word, leaving me standing in the doorway, stunned. Stunned and beyond curious to find out what was in the box, that is.
I took it inside, set it on the polished stone island in the kitchen, and pulled open the cardboard flaps. Inside lay at least a hundred pairs of soft pink ballet slippers in all different sizes. Each of the pairs was tied with a shiny satin ribbon, except for a few pairs of rubber-soled canvas tumbling shoes, which were presumably for a group of little boys I’d been teaching who greatly preferred learning different flips and rolls rather than pirouettes. I sighed, letting it sink in that Warren hadn’t gone to New York City to try to dig up dirt on me, after all.
With a little ache in my chest, I lifted a scrap of paper from the slippers, seeing that a message was written on it in bold, masculine handwriting. It was from Warren, of course, and it said: Dear Miss Eleanor Christine Elizabeth O’Brien, esquire, Seeing you dancing and teaching the kids is quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen on this island, and I’ve been here a long time. Just wanted you to have what you need to continue. Sincerely, Lieutenant General Chief Warren James Knight.
After setting the note on the counter with a sudden lump forming in my throat, I began taking the ballet slippers out of the box to see them better, and underneath the first layer, I found several pairs of pointe shoes in peach, pink, and white satin, all of them in my size. I recalled how one day Hugh had been asking me a bunch of seemingly random questions about pointe shoes, such as what size I wore, which had struck me as maybe a bit odd at the time, but now made perfect sense.
Leaning against the kitchen island, I rested my face against my folded arms and cried; I didn’t even know why. I wondered if I was developing Stockholm Syndrome.
After a while, I dried my eyes, scooted my feet into a pair of flip-flops, and stepped out the front door.
Hugh was reading in a chair next to a tall, fuchsia pink hibiscus bush out front, and he looked up at me, not seeming surprised to see me in the least. “Need an escort to the chief’s castle?”
I nodded, not even knowing why exactly I was going there, or what exactly I was going to say to Warren.
Seeming to sense that maybe I was feeling some sense of urgency, Hugh flew me to Warren’s on his back, while the sun began sinking low in a sky painted with various brilliant shades of orange and gold.
When we landed, Hugh shifted back into human form, fully dressed, and spoke without really making eye contact with me for some reason. “Just so you know, Sadie and the other cook have the night off, so you can go in there knowing that you and the chief will have privacy for
whatever kind of, um... ah, for whatever kind of discussion the two of you might want to have.”
Already heading to the front door, I thanked him with my face a bit hot, though not from the still-warm sun. I knew exactly what Hugh had meant, but I had no intention of having that kind of a “discussion” with Warren. This was a business visit. It would be barely civil, and no more. I knew this for sure, even though I still had no clue of what I intended to say.
Warren answered the door right away, wordlessly ushered me inside, and shut the heavy wooden door behind us.
Standing mere inches from him and his lightly-tanned, strong-jawed face, I spoke first. “I just came here to say thank you for the ballet shoes. Nothing more. That’s it. Just thank you.”
It was only then that I realized that if that was really all I’d wanted to say to him, I surely could have texted that message.
With his muscular arms folded across his chest, Warren dipped his head in a nod, making his dark hair glint in a shaft of sunlight slanting across the stone-floored foyer. “You’re welcome.”
There was a long pause, and we both just stood, looking into each other’s eyes. The act had the effect of making my pulse pound, and the next words out of my mouth just tumbled right out.
“Look. I know you have some issues from being betrayed in the past. But why can’t you just believe me? Why can’t you just accept that I’m not a spy? Why do you have to keep on being such a... well, such an asshole about it?”
Warren lifted his dark brows just a degree. “Can I ask you something? Where did you ever get such a rude, naughty little mouth?”
I stood sputtering briefly. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is swearing in this village illegal now?”
“Actually, yes, because I just made it so. And now you must be punished.”
Heart hammering in my ears, I suddenly couldn’t even sputter anymore.
I stood speechless for a second before responding. “Excuse me?”
Warren spoke in a calm, commanding voice. “I think you heard me just fine. Now you must be punished.”
*
At least two seconds went by before I found my voice.
“What do you mean by ‘punished?’ What are you going to do to me?”
Still standing mere inches away from me, close enough that I could detect a hint of his masculine, woodsy scent, Warren lifted his strong shoulders in a shrug. “Well, that’s up to you. See, you have two different choices for your punishment.”
With butterflies suddenly rioting in my stomach, I spoke in a barely-audible voice. “What are they?”
“Choice one is being locked in the dungeon beneath my castle for a period no shorter than twenty-four hours. Choice two is a punishment lasting not nearly as long.”
I spoke in a near-whisper once again. “And that would be?”
“Choice two would be you letting me take you in my arms and kiss your soft, sweet lips, like I’ve been wanting to do since the very first time we spoke. You submit to this punishment for a full minute, and after that, your punishment will be over, and you’ll be free to walk away, fully punished for having such a rude little mouth. That’s punishment two.”
Warren paused, and I noticed that his breathing was becoming a little fast.
“So, which will it be, Miss Eleanor Christine Elizabeth O’Brien, esquire? Do you choose to spend the next night and day locked in my dungeon, or do you choose to submit to being held and kissed by me for one full minute?”
My brain, mouth, and vocal cords seemed to work completely on their own.
“I choose punishment two. Just because I know it won’t faze me at all, and the minute will be over quick enough.”
Truthfully, of course, I had serious, serious doubts that a minute in his arms wouldn’t faze me, but my mouth had still said what it had.
With his dark eyes glassy, Warren suddenly pulled me into his strong arms and spoke in a voice low and husky. “All right, then. Your punishment begins right now.”
The moment his lips connected with mine, I moaned softly, realizing that I’d wanted him to kiss me since the day I’d woken up in the hospital. He kissed me slowly at first, gently, but soon with increasing intensity, his mouth firm and warm. Moaning softly again, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he moved his hands to the small of my back, growling.
I didn’t want my punishment to end. At least, not until I’d experienced the release I realized I was desperate for.
So, having to force myself to do so, I broke our kiss after a minute or two and spoke in a voice thick with desire. “Wherever your bedroom is... please take me there.”
I didn’t need to ask Warren twice. With his breathing fast and ragged, he scooped me up and carried me up the two flights of stairs to his third-floor room, kissing me all the way.
Within mere moments of us entering his spacious stone-walled bedroom, fingers and clothes were flying. We undressed each other, though when Warren seemed to be having slight trouble unclasping the little hook at the front of my bra, I did it for him, impatient then.
When I stood in the waning sun, completely nude, he raked his gaze over the length of my body, nearly panting. “Stunning. Beyond stunning. There’s actually no word strong enough.”
Pressing his rock-hard erection against the soft curve of my belly, he cupped my breasts and began slowly circling my stiffened nipples with his thumbs, making me throw my head back, sighing with pleasure. But soon I wanted more, much more, and I began pulling down his boxer-briefs, which were the only article of clothing he was still wearing.
He helped me along with the task, then stepped out of them and stood, revealing his well-above-average-sized manhood, which was long and so thick I doubted I’d be able to close my fingers around it. But, of course, I felt compelled to try, and I proved my suspicions correct, making Warren draw in a sharp intake of air with his eyes rolling back in his head.
I stroked him slowly, rhythmically, seeming to increase his own desire as well as my own. After a short while, we were both nearly gasping for breath, and I stopped in my action and began backing up to his four-poster bed, leading him along with my hand still wrapped around his rod.
“Now. Please make love to me.”
He scooped me up once again and set me on the bed, then positioned himself between my legs, on his knees. The very last rays of the sun made his naked body almost seem to glow, and I thought that he looked like some sort of expertly-sculpted bronze statue. Whimpering with desire, I gripped his hips, reveling in the feel of his smooth skin, while he took his thick pole in one hand and began teasing my slick feminine lips apart with the head of it. I moaned, anticipating the sensation of being completely filled by his hardness.
He didn’t enter me right away, however. First, he stroked my most sensitive spot with the head of his shaft until I my moans became so frequent the sound was almost more of a throaty, extended cry. Only then did he slide into me, finally filling me with every inch of his granite-hard length.
I soon became lost in a world of complete erotic bliss while he worked himself in and out of my slickness with slow powerful thrusts, hovering above me, grunting. With my senses seeming to be heightened, I breathed in his clean, woodsy scent, filling my nostrils with it, becoming pleasantly dizzy from it.
Presently, almost without even being aware of the action, I slid a hand between my thighs and began stroking my throbbing feminine bud, eager to increase my pleasure even further.
Without pulling himself out of me, Warren rose up to his knees and began watching the action of my fingers intently. “So, so gorgeous. Please don’t stop.”
I didn’t, and after hiking my legs up on his chest, he resumed thrusting his thick pole deep inside of me while still on his knees, periodically looking into my eyes for a moment or two while he did so.
A while later, we both shuddered with release at nearly the exact same time, our sweat-slicked bodies feeling to me as if they were merging into one. Grinding my head back into a stack of fluffy white pillows w
ith my eyes shut, I literally saw stars.
Shortly after, Warren collapsed to his side beside me and took me in his arms as the first shadows of twilight began creeping along the bedroom walls.
Twining my fingers with his, I looked into his eyes while suppressing a smile. “You don’t really have a dungeon beneath the castle, do you?”
A rakish half-grin slowly curved his mouth.
“No.”
Almost immediately, the two of us fell into the deep sleep of the profoundly satisfied.
***
I awoke maybe not even a half-hour later, horrified. Now that the rosy glow of lovemaking had worn off, I could not believe what I’d done. I’d slept with my captor. I’d slept with a man who thought I was a spy. I’d slept with a man who didn’t trust me. I felt disgusted and angry, with myself most of all.
With all gentleness and slowness so as not to wake Warren, I lifted his arm from my shoulders and noiselessly rolled out of bed. After stealthily collecting my clothes and throwing them on, I crept out of the bedroom and dashed down the hallway to the stairs.
It wasn’t even fully dark out yet when I emerged from Warren’s castle. The sky was a soft shade of dove gray tinged with lavender.
Hugh, who was lounging with his back against a palm, cigar in one hand and a book in the other, seemed to startle a bit when he saw my face. “Everything okay?”
I shook my head, stomping past him. “No. I made a huge mistake. And right now...” I paused, blinking back a few sudden tears. “Right now, I just want to be completely alone to think. Not in my castle. I need a view. I just need something peaceful to look at, because I feel like I just want to scream.”
He’d caught up with me and was now looking at me with evident concern in his eyes. “Well, where—”
“Please fly me up to the top of the Great Hill and then just leave me for a while. Don’t you dare try to insist on coming up with me or anything because I’m still a prisoner. I just really need to be alone right now.”
I didn’t want Hugh to be anywhere near when my tears finally spilled down my cheeks, which I knew was soon going to happen. I just wanted privacy to have a good cry for the second time that evening.