Cravings

by Liz Everly

  He could only moan. Words would not form in his mouth.

  When her lips touched the rim of him he shuddered, trying to hold back. She reached up with her hands and twisted his nipples as she took his whole length into her mouth. His nipples burned. He thrummed with pleasure on the edge of pain and pleasure in a wicked, wicked mesh of feeling.

  What was becoming of him?

  He knew he would unleash at any moment and started to pull away.

  “No,” she said. “I want to taste you.”

  “What?” he managed to say.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. She took him deep in her mouth and throat and sucked him like he’d never been sucked before. He was undone, had no control at all. He was his cock, her mouth, all moved as one. Her hot wet tongue and lips moved over him in a fast rhythm. And when he released into her, he nearly sobbed with relief, with joy.

  Sasha sat up on him again. Had nobody ever done that for him before? Poor man.

  She took his hands and placed them on her breasts—her nipples hard, breasts swollen from the intense pleasure of having him in her mouth. Moist and needing relief, she wondered if he was spent.

  “Mmmm, this is good chocolate,” she said, bringing her finger to her mouth and licking it.

  His eyebrows raised. She had his attention.

  Would he mind if she . . . ? Why not try?

  She poured a little on her finger, smeared it on her breasts. It felt soft and gooey as she spread it on herself.

  Sanj drew in a breath.

  “Nice,” he said, almost growling.

  He didn’t seem spent at all as he rose and leaned into her, pressing her back against the floor, tonguing the still-warm chocolate from her breasts. The cool tile floor surprised her back. As he licked from her nipples, she reached her fingers to herself, found her bud, and started to finger it. When he noticed, he sat back and watched.

  “God,” he whispered. “You are . . . amazing.”

  He spread more syrup on her belly and started to lick it off as she continued to play with herself. So many men liked this, but she always felt herself disengage as she moved her fingers around on herself. She was so swollen, so thick, loved the feel of herself. She brought his hand to her.

  “Inside,” she said.

  His fingers entered her, touching hers inside, too, while his mouth lapped up the chocolate.

  “You . . . are so . . . hot,” he said.

  “On fire,” she said.

  He brought his mouth to her center.

  “So right, Sanj . . . more . . .” She took his back her in her hands and pushed him into her again. His lips wrapped around her clit. He bit her ever so gently—just the right amount of pressure at just the right time.

  Sasha’s body became a torrent of a fiery river, pulsing, not stopping. She fought to breathe. It would not stop. He held his mouth on her as she bucked hard against him—until she had to pull away from him.

  They tangled together on the floor in a mess of chocolate and other stickiness. Breathing, sighing, stroking.

  Sasha was content—ridiculously content.

  “Are you okay?” Sanj asked, propping himself on his elbow.

  She nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever come so long,” she said with a laugh. “I didn’t think it was going to stop.”

  Sanj looked pleased, like the cat who swallowed the canary. In one huge bite.

  “Maybe we should get some rest,” he said. “In the bed.”

  “Oh yes,” she said, still feeling high. “We should.”

  He helped her to stand and they made their way to the king-sized bed.

  “Let me get a towel, at least,” he said to her. As she watched him walk across the floor with the towel, she took in all of him, especially his ass, so firm and round. A momentarily flash came to her: that ass reddened by a riding crop. She blinked. What was happening to her? She’d left the dominatrix persona behind when she stopped working. But the image delighted her, alluring as it played in her mind.

  Sasha didn’t have the energy to vanquish the image—or take a shower. It would wait until morning. She drifted off into bliss, only to be awakened by Sanj poking at her—already hard.

  “Good morning,” he said, opening her legs with his knees.

  Indeed. It was a good morning.

  Chapter 21

  “Have you tried these muffins?” Jennifer asked.

  “Exquisite,” Sasha said. “So rich. Is it the freshness of the chocolate? I’ve never had anything quite like it.”

  Sanj looked over his laptop while they sat at the table in his room, eating breakfast.

  “It might be the butter they used. Butter does make everything better, even chocolate,” Jennifer said. “At least that’s what Sanj says.” She grinned slyly at him.

  He totally ignored her.

  Sasha was sick of her insinuations. Okay, so Jennifer and Sanj had been engaged and of course were lovers, but did she really need to keep reminding him?

  “Excuse me, ladies,” Sanj said, rising from the table. “I need to make a few phone calls.”

  Oh no! Don’t leave me here with her, Sasha mentally pleaded.

  “But Sanj,” Jennifer said. “We’ll be leaving in a few minutes for our workday.”

  “I know, I know,” he mumbled. But he left the table anyway.

  Sasha finished her muffin and took one more sip of her coffee.

  “Do you think Maeve could be here?” Jennifer asked.

  Sasha shrugged. “I hope so. If she’s not here, I don’t know where else to search.”

  “What is it you want from her?”

  Sasha sat back in her chair. “I need to see her, to let her know . . . some things.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I am not lying.”

  “You are.”

  “Look, of course there’s more to it, but it’s really none of your business.”

  “Sasha, Maeve Flannery is always going to be my business,” Jennifer said.

  Just then, their driver walked in. “We really must be going,” he said.

  “Sanj?” Sasha called out.

  “I’m sorry, ladies. I’ll catch up with you later,” Sanj said.

  “You’ll have to get used to that if you’re going to be in his life,” Jennifer said with a sigh as they gathered their bags.

  Sasha shrugged. As long as she had nights with Sanj, she didn’t really much care what he did during the day. She wished he was going with them—just to have a third pair of eyes to glance around the plantation.

  But she wondered if Sanj was not really “working” as Jennifer had thought. She noticed his posture stiffening, his voice lowering. Who was it he was really talking with? No. Her gut told her Sanj was not working. In any case, she moved along, hoping to get her hands dirty at the cacao plantation, as well as find out what could possibly have happened to Maeve.

  By noon, Sasha was rethinking everything.

  What was she thinking when she thought this would be the life for her? She loved to get her hands in the soil, yes. But this was no quaint garden experience. The cacao pods were rough and hard on her hands. Sasha felt a headache come on from a mixture of the permeating bitter smell and the sun beating down on her. She was dirty, sweaty, and only wanted to find a bath.

  Maybe Sanj was right. Maybe her study of chocolate should be taken up in a chocolate shop in Paris, in the lovely air-conditioning.

  Paris. The thought of it provided her mind with enough texture and fancy to get through the next fifteen minutes until lunchtime. She thought about the last time she visited Paris. She was with a client. A client who was collared, who liked her to wear spike heels and grind them on his hands as she stood over him, otherwise completely naked.

  A high official in the French government, he loved his humiliation. He never had sex with her—like most of her clients. He only wanted to please her. And he did have this exquisite way with his tongue. He had always been so grateful after. Even when she’d bruised him. Es
pecially when she bruised him. So grateful that once he gave her a $500,000 bonus.

  “You’ll never know how much this means to me,” he said. “To simply focus on my needs for a change.”

  If she missed anything about her work as a dominatrix, it was this filling a void in someone’s life. But she didn’t miss the rest of it—Snake taking her money, the constant partying, and the continual paranoia about getting arrested.

  “I’m so ready for a break,” Jennifer said, throwing the last pod in their bucket.

  Sasha nodded.

  “No Sanj,” Jennifer said, taking off her hat and wiping her brow. “I hope he’s okay.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Sasha said. Jennifer’s expression of concern was unmistakable. “You still care about him.”

  It was a statement, not a question.

  Jennifer pursed her lips. “We didn’t break up because I didn’t care about him.”

  “Of course not. You were going to marry,” Sasha said, suddenly feeling compassion for Jennifer, whose eyes revealed a depth of hurt, briefly. Then she blinked it away.

  “Yes, marriage is about, well, more than love,” she said. “We had other issues.”

  “Like what? Do you mind my asking?” Sasha brushed the dirt off her hands and searched for their guide, nowhere to be found.

  “Complicated,” Jennifer said and shrugged. “A culture thing. He’s very Indian, even though he’s well traveled and educated and modern and all. He’s very traditional when it comes to things like marriage.”

  “Humph,” Sasha said. Good thing I’m not interested in marriage.

  “So you may be barking up the wrong tree,” she said.

  “Look, I like Sanj,” Sasha said. “But we just met. Besides, I’m not really the marrying type,” she said and grinned.

  “Ladies,” came a woman’s voice from behind them. “Lunchtime.”

  When Sasha turned around, a light-skinned, auburn-haired woman stood in front of her. She resembled Maeve, only she was much thinner and shorter than Maeve. Damn. This was the woman that Mozingo took off with—not their Maeve!

  “Are you American?” Jennifer asked.

  “Why, yes, I am,” she responded. “I’m from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. You?”

  “I live in New York City,” Jennifer clipped. “What are you doing here?”

  She laughed. “Follow me,” she said. She led them around the hill to the main house, where the others in the group waited for them, including a tall, dark, elegant man. José Mozingo.

  “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” he spoke. “I hope you’ve learned a bit about the plantation and are now ready to take a break with the lovely lunch my new wife, Emma, has prepared for you.”

  New wife? Sasha’s eyes met Jennifer’s.

  The woman laughed. “New wife, indeed,” she said. “We were married last week, a few days after we met in Ecuador. Welcome to my new home.”

  Chapter 22

  After getting off the phone with the consul in Ecuador, who assured Sanj of Jackson’s wellness and safety, but said he still needed to go through some testing and evaluation before he could leave the country, his phone buzzed again.

  “Sanj Jain?”

  “Yes.”

  “You and I have a mutual friend,” the voice said. Gravelly, unfamiliar, it had a menacing tone that hit Sanj’s chest with a stone-cold thud.

  “We do? Who is this?”

  His words were careful, clipped. “Never mind who this is.”

  “If you don’t explain yourself, sir, I will disconnect.” Sanj took control. Or tried to.

  “Maeve.”

  Sanj’s breath nearly left his body—or maybe it had. Air, where is the air? His mouth couldn’t find words either. Whatever control he had tried to maintain vanished.

  “I have your friend Maeve here. And she is so delicious,” the voice said, making a hissing noise on the s, dragging it out. “But she’s not feeling well . . . too much cock-sucking, I think.”

  “Now hold on,” Sanj said, pulse racing. Beads of sweat pricking his forehead. Stomach lurching. “What are you talking about? If you have Maeve there, I want to speak with her.”

  The gravelly voiced man laughed—a sordid, guttural laugh. “Talk to him, honey.”

  “Sanj?” She barely whispered into the phone. Was it Maeve? “Sanj,” she said, stronger this time. Yes, it was Maeve. “Don’t do it. Whatever he—”

  He heard a muffled scream in the background and the line went dead.

  Sanj stood holding his phone. “Call back! Please call back!” he said to his phone. Sweat poured from his forehead. He sopped up his face and head with his handkerchief.

  He wanted to call his assistant to contact a PI, to contact the police, but he didn’t want to tie up the line. He used the hotel phone and within minutes was patched through to his assistant, Josh.

  “Do you still have the cell?” Josh asked him.

  “Yes, of course,” Sanj said.

  “We may be able to trace the call. There’s a police precinct two miles from where you are. I’ll contact them from my end, too. You will have to do without your phone an hour or so. I will also call your cell company. I’m guessing it will lead nowhere. But we have to try. How long has she been missing?”

  “About five days, I think,” Sanj managed to say. His throat tightened. Damn, he needed a drink.

  “We can only manage maybe another few days and we’ll have to contact other authorities. But since we don’t know what he’s looking for—”

  “He must know I’m wealthy. I’ll pay him whatever he wants for her.”

  “I think if he wanted money he’d have asked for it.”

  “What else could it be?”

  “I have no idea. Maybe I’m wrong. Who knows? These guys are whacked,” he said. “Stay in touch. My team will be there soon. I’ll ready the plane.”

  And he was gone. The one voice of reason right now.

  Sanj had to hold it together. Had to manage. But first, he couldn’t contain the urge to retch any longer.

  Getting to the police station was not a problem. At least ten cabs were lined up along the curb. As he left his cab, the cabbie handed him a note. “Some kid gave me this to give to you,” he said and shrugged.

  “Hold on,” Sanj said, opening the letter.

  It’s Sasha. I want Sasha, read the note.

  Sasha? Damn. Didn’t he know Sasha would bring trouble? Didn’t she warn him? Sasha!

  “Who gave this to you?” he managed to ask through the pounding in his head.

  “A boy, musta been about ten. Blond, blue-eyed. Cute kid,” he said.

  “Do you have a card?”

  The man handed it to him and Sanj tipped him well. As he handed him the money, Sanj realized his hands trembled.

  “You okay, buddy?”

  Sanj nodded. “I will be. Thank you.”

  Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

  But as he turned to walk to the police station his knees wobbled. He breathed in the humid air. When he entered the modern air-conditioned establishment, he felt a bit better. Renaldo was waiting for him.

  “Sanj Jain?”

  He nodded.

  “Good to meet you,” he said, extending his hand. “What do you have?”

  He was not what Sanj expected. He certainly wasn’t native, with his light skin, piercing blue eyes, and long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail.

  He showed the paper to the officer and relayed the story.

  “Glad you got the guy’s card. Come in to my office,” he said. “Can I get you some tea?”

  Renaldo had a strange accent Sanj couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t quite Scottish, yet it reminded him of the place.

  Sanj shook his head.

  The detective took Sanj’s phone and handed it to a younger person, who nodded—he expected him and was prepared. “Be right back,” he said.

  After the detective situated himself behind his desk, he asked who the hell Sasha was.
>
  “A woman I recently met,” Sanj told him. “I met her in Ecuador. She traveled with me here.” He suddenly remembered he was supposed to meet her and Jennifer at the plantation. “She and another woman, a friend, are at the Mozingo plantation today.”

  “What’s Sasha’s story?” he asked, lifting his chin with a nod.

  “I really don’t know,” Sanj replied, a little uncomfortable talking to this man about her. He knew that Josh trusted him, but the man was a cop who had to abide by laws, and Sasha’s past was illicit.

  “Well, when she gets back, I’d like to talk with her. I’d like to get to the bottom of this. Now what exactly did the voice say to you on the phone?”

  Sanj repeated what he had already told Josh.

  “Well, now we know he doesn’t want money. He wants Sasha. A woman for a woman, so to speak.” He hitched his eyebrow. “Must be a hell of a woman.”

  “They both are, actually,” Sanj said after a moment. “Maeve told me not to do whatever he asked.”

  “Yes, but did she know what he was asking?”

  Sanj shrugged.

  The young man walked back into the room.

  “Sorry to interrupt, sir.”

  “What do you have for us?”

  “Unfortunately the phone is not really traceable. It’s a prepaid cell phone. But we were able to trace a bit of a faint GPS signal. The device is on the island. That’s all I can tell you for now. We’re checking to see where the phone was activated,” the young man said.

  “Did you say it’s on the island?” Sanj said. Could it be?

  He nodded.

  “Then Maeve is here somewhere,” Sanj said. “We should be able to find her. Let’s get busy.”

  Chapter 23

  At the Mozingo plantation, Sasha and Jennifer filled up on a lunch followed by fresh chocolates filled with dark chocolate liqueur, infused with nutmeg, clove, bay leaf, and orange peel. They were so giddy from the aftereffects they barely noticed when Sanj walked into the room accompanied by a uniformed police officer and a well-dressed blond gentlemen.

  But Sasha did notice when José Mozingo stood abruptly. She elbowed Jennifer and nodded in their direction. The next thing they knew, the two of them were escorted into the inner sanctum of the house.