After taking his time with that one as well, he released her with a wet
pop
and met her gaze. Silver glinted in his opposite hand. “But the things I want to
do you, love. They’re going to make you want to be loud. And sound can carry out here.”
“Shit,” she whispered, finally realizing the predicament she’d gotten herself in.
He grinned and opened the tiny clamp he’d been holding and positioned it on her nipple.
The harsh pinch of it made her hiss, and she tilted her head back as the sensation
zipped through her body. This one was different than the one he’d used on her in the
kitchen. This one had vicious little metal teeth. Before she could breathe through
the pain of it, he clamped the other one as well, and let go of a chain linking the
two together. The chain added weight to the clamps and her fists balled in the bindings.
She knew how these kind worked, in theory at least. She used them on her subs often.
But son of a bitch that hur—
oh.
Before she could even complete her thought the pain went through that beautiful section
of her brain that converted it to sweet, burning warmth. Every part of her body seemed
to heat, and the plug that she’d only been marginally aware of for the last few minutes
began to throb inside her, making her sex ache for the same feeling of fullness. She
sighed into the rush of it all.
“There you go, gorgeous. Let your body do the magic.” He grabbed a bottle and squeezed
liquid into his palm. “And I think we have enough shade, so you’re not going to burn.
But you still owe me the chance to give you a rub down. I’d hate for this pretty skin
to dry out with all this sun and sand.”
He grabbed one of her ankles and lifted her leg, parking her foot against the hard
wall of his chest, then started working warm oil into her calf. The position spread
her wide, tightened the plug, and left her completely and utterly exposed to him.
The breeze swirled over her already damp folds with a warm caress, drawing her scent
into the charged air between them. Wyatt sent her a smile that said
You’re all mine now,
and her belly flipped at the thought.
His
. For the whole month.
He massaged the oil along her leg, moving down to her inner thigh and working in slow,
methodical circles, getting closer and closer to the part of her that ached so badly,
but never touching it. An embarrassing amount of wetness gathered between her legs,
and when his knuckles grazed that spot between her thigh and her sex, she let out
a pitiful whimper.
His hooded gaze slid from her parted mouth downward to the spot that most throbbed,
the blue of his irises going almost black. Hungry. She bit her lip, a full body blush
rushing over her. Being naked in front of him wasn’t new, but she’d never felt so
physically open and vulnerable to where he could see exactly how desperate she was
for him, how uncontrollable her need was.
His palm tracked down along the back of her thigh and slid the oil along the bottom
curve of her ass, jostling the plug inside her and making her hips lift toward him.
“Why are you turning red, love?”
The question was low and easy, the sensual syllables of that deep voice rolling over
her as she tried to keep herself from moaning. “I—I feel so exposed.”
He traced a gentle fingertip along her already slick labia, a butterfly wing of a
touch. “And you look beautiful, love. So pink and swollen and slippery for me.” He
jiggled the base of the plug, sending a ripple of sweet sensation through her. “You’ve
even gotten the plug all slick from your juices. I could come from looking at you.”
“Please don’t do that,” she whispered. She would die right here on this chair if he
didn’t get inside her soon.
He caressed the inside of her other thigh, tender, reverent. “Don’t worry, love. I
plan to fill every empty space inside of you. If you let me.”
Her eyes lifted at that, colliding with a gaze that suddenly held more than lust in
it. It held promise, hope. It held . . . She squeezed her eyes shut. No. He’s just
talking about fucking. That’s all this is. “Please, Wyatt.”
She didn’t know what she was pleading for exactly—for him to stop saying things like
that, for him to touch her where she most needed, for him to take away the fear that
was creeping in.
He tugged on the chain between her breasts, sending a sharp bolt of awareness through
her and knocking her worried thoughts right out of her head. “Stop thinking, Kelsey.
Feel. That’s all you need to do right now. You understand?”
“Yes, sir.” She nodded quickly, thankful for the shift, for him yanking her back from
the scary stuff.
He climbed off the lounger, wiping the oil from his hands on a towel, then tugged
off the khaki shorts he’d been wearing. His cock was heavy and thick, jutting out
proudly from between those muscular thighs. Wyatt took himself in his hand as he kept
his eyes on her, stroking the bead of moisture at the tip and spreading it over the
head. His mouth curved upward. “Keep sucking your bottom lip into your mouth like
that, and I’ll be forced to shove something in there.”
She pressed her lips together, unaware that she’d been doing such a thing. But her
mouth was watering at the thought of tasting him again, of having her lips stretched
wide around that glorious cock of his. “That wouldn’t exactly be a punishment, sir.”
“You like sucking cock, love?” he asked, his voice going gritty with his own banked
desire.
“I like sucking yours.”
His smirk was pure sex. “Good answer. But I’ve got other plans for you right now.”
He moved around the edge of the chair to the table and grabbed what looked to be one
of the hotel hand towels. He rolled it lengthwise and then brought it to her mouth.
She lifted her brows.
“Bite down, love. It will help you keep quiet.”
She licked her lips, eyeing the towel with trepidation. “I can keep quiet.”
He bent down and kissed her on the nose. “Not if I have anything to do with it. Will
you trust me on this or are you saying it’s a limit for you?”
The question held no accusatory tone, it was an honest one. If she didn’t want to,
he would never make her. When she’d been kidnapped, Davis had shoved his sock in her
mouth and she’d almost choked on her own vomit. The memory was an ugly one—one that
flared up on occasion when she’d gag on something. And she hated that it was there.
She would not let it ruin this moment. And maybe, just maybe, doing this with Wyatt
could replace the ugly memory with a sexy one. She nodded. “I trust you.”
The pleasure that broke over his expression at her trust was reward enough. He held
the towel in front of her mouth and she bit down on it. “Good girl. Can you breathe?”
She nodded.
“Practice spitting it out.”
She opened her mouth, shoved the terrycloth out with her tongue.
He grabbed it, re-rolled it, and put it back in, then let his hand drift down to one
of her clamps, circling the sensitive area around it. She rocked into the touch with
a muffled moan. “There you go. You can get rid of the gag if you need to. But this
way, when I fuck those screams out of you—because, believe me, that’s what I intend
to do—you won’t alert the whole island.”
He bent down and followed the path his finger had traced with the tip of his tongue,
nearly making her eyes roll back in her head. Then he was on the move again, leaving
her bereft without his heat, his touch.
“Don’t get that forlorn look in your eyes, love. I’m not going anywhere.” He snagged
a condom off the table and sheathed himself, then lowered his body between her thighs.
His focus never left her face as he put his hands behind her knees and pushed her
legs toward her chest. “I plan on being here a very long time.”
His cock nudged at her soaked entrance, her body not opening as easily with the plug
taking up real estate. But he simply pushed her legs wider and worked his way into
the impossibly tight space. He groaned as she quivered around him, the feeling of
fullness nearly sending her into orgasm instantly. She was so wound up already—bound,
gagged, slick with oil and her own arousal that even the hint of him brushing against
her G-spot had her nervous system short-circuiting. It was all so much.
He
was so much.
“I can feel you clenching around me,” Wyatt groaned as he pumped slowly back and forth
inside her. “You’re fighting it already, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
She made a miserable whimpering sound into the towel.
He let go of one of her legs and reached beneath himself, grasping the base of the
plug and turning it easily, the lubricant still keeping things slippery inside her
back passage. “Go ahead and take this first one, love. You’ve earned it. Come for
me.”
He kept his steady rhythm, fucking her with long, deep strokes, but as he did it he
pulled the plug halfway out, lighting up the nerves at the sensitive rim and plunged
it back in, fucking her with the toy in the same cadence as the grind of his cock
over her G-spot. The dual sensations twined up her spine, radiating out like satellite
signals to every molecule in her system.
“That’s it,” he said, his voice hot against her. “You feel so good. Come all over
me. Show me how much you like me fucking that pretty cunt, that tight little ass.
Show me how shameless you are. Take it, Kelsey. Take what you want.”
At that, she couldn’t stop the charging stampede of sensation. It knocked her back
against the lounge chair and she groaned into the towel, her teeth gripping it hard
as her body rode Wyatt’s thrusting cock and his toy. Sweat broke out across her skin
and she closed her eyes, drowning.
But before she could even catch her breath, Wyatt was sliding the toy out of her and
pulling his cock free. Panic shot through her and she went to reach for him, but her
hands were still locked to the chair. He placed a hand on her thigh, giving it a quick
squeeze. “Shh, I’m right here.”
There was the sound of something slick and then Wyatt was there against her again.
Only not at her still-spasming pussy, but at her back entrance. The fat head of his
cock pressed against the tight ring, and she shuddered hard, her body still tweaking
from the orgasm.
“Try to relax, love,” he said, an edge of strain in his voice. “I don’t want to hurt
you.”
She made a frustrated moan.
You won’t hurt me. Take me. Please, God, take me.
But the words were only in her head, the towel still gripped tight in her mouth.
As if he’d heard her unspoken thoughts anyway, he spread her ass cheeks with his hands
and nudged forward, pushing against the pucker of muscle until her body gave in and
opened to him. The first full thrust was one of the most intense moments of physical
sensation she’d ever had.
The combination of pain and sheer bliss rocked through her like an earthquake, sending
fissures and cracks through every semblance of sanity she was clinging to. His fingers
found her throbbing clit, converting any remaining threads of discomfort into pure
ecstasy, and he began to move inside her, his sexy words falling over her like fiery
rain. Words like
beautiful
and
amazing
and
sexy
and that nickname that made her bones melt,
love
.
“Look at me, love,” he said in a near strangled whisper.
She forced her eyes open, her brain fuzzy, but her vision of him stunningly clear.
His skin glistened with sweat, the muscles of his chest and shoulders flexing and
tightening with each steady slide inside her tight passage—a beautiful male beast
on a mission to claim. But what transfixed her was the way he was looking at her.
Like no other woman had ever existed in the world before this moment and like no other
ever would. The sheer power of that gaze ripped right through her, tearing through
any distance she was trying to keep between them. Her eyes clamped shut.
“No, Kelsey,” he said harshly. “I need your eyes. Look at me.
See
me. See me seeing you.”
The words jumbled in her head, mixing in with the overwhelming feeling of her body
tightening, revving. But she got the message.
This isn’t a random fuck. You mean something. You
mean
something to
me.
Water filled her bottom lids but she held on to his eye contact, ensnared in it. And
only then did he slide his fingers and angle his body in just the right way to take
her over the edge. Pleasure shot through her like a thousand pinpricks of light flashing
through her and bursting out of her skin. She screamed around the towel, a wretched
grit-filled sound that hurt her throat. But she couldn’t stop. The crazed noise just
kept going and going, on loop. During the height of it, he took the nipple clamps
off her, sending a shocking wave of pain through her that only seemed to make her
come harder. Her eyes finally fluttered closed, an involuntary response she couldn’t
fight, and tears slid down her cheeks as the oblivion took her under.
Wyatt’s own release was silent, but she felt the unspoken shout in his brutal grip
on her thigh, in the shudder of his body. His cock swelled inside her, pulsing and
pulsing as if he was determined to give her everything, every damn ounce of his being.
Then, finally, he slipped out of her, letting her legs ease back to the cushions,
and he bowed forward, laying his cheek to the space between her breasts and panting.
She laid her head back to stare at the sky, her jaw going slack and releasing the
towel.
This time she didn’t have the energy to run.
TWENTY-FOUR
“Welcome, Ms. Adams and Mr. Austin.”
Kelsey forced her mouth to form some facsimile of a smile as a pretty dark-skinned
woman handed her and Wyatt each a little white rectangle as they stepped into the
main resort’s ballroom.
“What’s this?” Wyatt asked as he flipped the card over to peer at the numbers on the
back.
“Mr. Carmichael is giving away fifty thousand dollars tonight. If you win, you get
to pick which charity it goes to.”
“How generous of him,” Wyatt said, and though his tone was as smooth as glass, Kelsey
could feel his grip tighten on her waist, as if saying anything complimentary about
Andrew Carmichael costs him a little piece of his soul. “Are the tables assigned tonight?”
The woman smiled. “No, sir, sit wherever you’d like. Dinner will be served after the
performance.”
“Thank you. Come on, love.”
Kelsey took a deep breath, letting him lead her forward. Some of the group had already
arrived and tables were beginning to fill up. She kept her gaze forward but could
almost feel eyes pressing on her. She didn’t know for sure if anyone besides Gwen
and Andrew had discovered her most damaging secrets. But based on how those women
had treated her at the spa, she wasn’t feeling very confident that the information
hadn’t traveled.
“I feel like everyone is watching us,” she said under her breath.
“That’s because you look so beautiful, love.” Wyatt rubbed circles against the small
of her back with his thumb. The dark green dress he’d chosen for her tonight was backless.
She’d protested the gorgeous gown, worried that it was too sexy when they were trying
to blend in. But he’d insisted, and already she was happy he had. His skin against
hers was instant comfort, a soothing salve for the nerves strumming through her.
Wyatt found an empty table and pulled her chair out for her. She sat and heaved a
sigh of relief that he hadn’t attempted to sit with anyone. She needed a minute to
put her game face back on. “I feel like I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown or
something.”
“Shh,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her knee beneath the table. “It’s going
to be okay. Just breathe, love.”
But as the minutes ticked by, she watched couple after couple enter the ballroom and
choose their dinner companions. The tables filled up around them, and a sinking feeling
settled over her, like a sack of sand in the pit of her stomach. They were at the
only table holding one couple now. She didn’t believe in coincidences. And she didn’t
miss the surreptitious glances, the whispered words at nearby tables. People knew.
“Wyatt,”
she said, keeping her voice low.
“I know, love.” A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he didn’t get up and haul her out
of there. He simply laid his arm over the back of her chair, exuding that pure I-dare-anyone-to-fuck-with-me
confidence that seemed to come so easy to him. “And I’m giving you one order for tonight.
You are not allowed to act embarrassed, ashamed, or apologetic.”
“But, Wyatt,” she protested, her stomach doing flips at the thought of all these people
knowing
, judging.
He turned to look at her. “The only opinions in this room that should matter to you
are mine and your own. And
I
am nothing but proud of you. If you show shame, it shames me.”
She closed her eyes, unable to meet the ferocity of his gaze and conviction behind
his words. “I can take a lot. But don’t lie to me. You have to be embarrassed by me.
You wouldn’t have come up with a fake backstory and last name for me if it didn’t
matter to you.”
A hand touched her cheek. “Love, I came up with the ruse to protect
you
. Not me. Your past is your business, and I didn’t want anyone prodding you.”
She opened her eyes at that and couldn’t help the sharp laugh. “Sure. You would’ve
taken a former drug addict stripper to a business retreat as your real date. Right.”
But his gaze didn’t waver, his lip only lifted at the corner. “In case you haven’t
noticed, part of the reason I’m not so good with the social stuff is that I don’t
give a flying fuck what people like this think of me. If my father could’ve beat that
trait out of me, he would’ve, but it’s not going anywhere. My family, my friends,
the girl I . . . care about, that’s whose opinions matter. Not some hoity-toity assholes
who like to jerk off to gossip.” He glanced over his shoulder at the other tables.
“I would happily stand up right now and tell everyone in here that I’m dating you—a
girl who has kicked and scraped her way through a life that would’ve crushed most
of the people in here. And that she’s the most beautiful, kind-hearted, and tough-ass
woman I’ve ever met. I’m humbled to be with her.”
Kelsey stared at Wyatt, her throat burning as he made his way through his fervent
declaration. No one had ever said anything to her like that before, and she didn’t
even know how to process it. “Wyatt . . . ,” she whispered.
“Shh,” he said taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth to kiss her palm. “You
don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to hear what I think when I see you.
And I want you to be proud of that girl because that’s who you are now. You’re not
a fuckup, you’re a survivor.”
“Are these seats taken?”
Kelsey turned toward the familiar voice, the interruption thankfully cutting off the
tears that had been threatening to flow. Kade Vandergriff, looking dapper in his three-piece
suit, smiled down at her. A pretty dark-haired Asian woman stood at his side. Kelsey
shook her head and Wyatt let go of her hand. “No, please, sit.”
“Great.” He pulled out the chair for his companion. “This is Maile, my assistant.”
They all exchanged introductions, and Kade sat in between Kelsey and Maile.
“I didn’t realize you’d brought anyone along,” Wyatt said, smiling so deeply his dimples
peeked out.
“I was told showing up to this thing solo was frowned upon, so Maile graciously volunteered
to come with me even though she barely tolerates me most days.”
Maile laughed. “A private island and a free vacation make you a bit more tolerable.
Though, if I never have to share a room with you again, it will be too soon.”
“What?” Kade asked, all innocent eyes. “I’ve been good. I’ve even managed to keep
myself covered at all times.”
“Thank God. I wouldn’t want to have to gouge my eyes out on top of everything else
I’ve been through this week.”
Kelsey lifted her eyebrows. So Maile wasn’t here
with
Kade. Wyatt’s smile faded as if this was disappointing news.
Kade shrugged. “Maile’s girlfriend apparently keeps things neater at home and doesn’t
snore. Though, honestly, I think she’s making the snoring thing up. She can’t possibly
hear that all the way on the other side of the suite.”
“Believe me, when you’re up sick all night with food poisoning, you hear everything,”
Maile said then sipped her water.
“Maile had the unfortunate luck of eating at the wrong restaurant on the main island
before we got on the boat. She’s been knocked down with food poisoning for days.”
“All these weeks I’m counting down to get to see this damn island. And boom, I get
here and end up worshipping porcelain.”
“Oh, no,” Kelsey said, her sympathy honest. She’d gotten food poisoning a few years
ago and the misery had been second only to detoxing from heroin.
“Oh, well,” Maile said, flipping her long bangs away from her face. “It was a helluva
way to lose a few pounds, but at least I was able to get into this dress tonight without
a crow bar.”
Kelsey laughed.
A waiter stopped by and poured wine for everyone, iced tea for Kelsey. After Kade
took a sip of his Chardonnay, he nodded at the other seats. “So what’s with the empty
table?”
Wyatt glanced at the few people still straggling in. “Who knows.”
Kelsey frowned. She knew Wyatt wasn’t saying anything because he didn’t want to share
her secrets in front of Maile, but both of them deserved to know. If Kade and Maile
were going to sit with them, they needed to be aware it could affect how the others
looked at them. She looked to Kade. “People talked. They know I’m not a debutante
from down south. And my guess is that most are assuming I’m a hooker who Wyatt paid
to come with him.”
“Fuck,” Kade said, scowling.
“So I won’t be offended if y’all want to sit somewhere else. I don’t want either of
you suffering the social stink eye because of me. I know you’re here for business
connections.”
Kade sniffed. “Screw that. Let them think what they want, judgmental bastards. Half
of them probably think I’m fucking my assistant, so what does it matter?”
“That’s acceptable, apparently,” Wyatt said, leaning his elbows on the table. “But
not being a trust fund baby? That’s a cardinal sin.”
“Mind if we join you?” a male voice asked.
Kelsey turned her head, surprised to see Ferris and Mrs. Pritchard standing there.
“Absolutely,” Wyatt said, standing up to help Mrs. Pritchard with her chair.
Mrs. Pritchard made a show of arranging her elaborate sparkly gold dress before settling
in her chair. She sent Kelsey a sly smile. “I overruled Ferris on the outfit tonight.
I couldn’t pass this one up. I feel like the sun.”
Ferris patted his mother’s shoulder before taking his seat. “She just wants everyone
revolving around her.”
Introductions were made all around the table, and Ferris made drink orders for him
and his mom. Kelsey shifted in her seat, not sure how to approach the new visitors.
They’d been friendly with each other since that first night and she’d grown to like
the quirky mother and son, but she had no idea if either of them had heard the gossip
or not. The thought of lying to them made her nauseous. They’d been nothing but kind
to her, and now she felt like an impostor.
But before she could even formulate a plan, Mrs. Pritchard pinned her with those heavily
shadowed eyes. “So the idiot mill is saying you’re an escort. Please tell me which
imbecile started that so I can hit them with my heavy purse.”
Kelsey’s throat went dry. “I, uh . . .”
Ferris put a gentle hand on his mom’s wrist. “Mother, please.”
She waved him off. “Don’t manage me, Ferris. There’s no one in this room who can convince
me Wyatt paid Kelsey to sleep with him. First of all, have you seen Wyatt?”
Ferris coughed and went red at the same time.
“Exactly. As if he’d have to pay for a girl . . . or a guy,” Mrs. Pritchard said with
a curt shake of her head as she turned back to Kelsey and Wyatt. “And second of all,
I see how you two look at each other.” She tapped her temple then pointed at them.
“I’ve been in the wedding business long enough to know when there are real feelings
there.”
Kelsey stared at her in stunned silence for a moment, then managed a feeble reply.
“I’m not an escort.”
“Of course not, darling,” Mrs. Pritchard said kindly. “I didn’t believe that for a
moment.”
“But I did lie. My last name is LeBreck, not Adams. I’m not from a wealthy family,”
Kelsey said, feeling compelled to be honest with the woman who’d shirked off gossip
without doubt. “And I have things in my past I’m not proud of.”
Mrs. Pritchard accepted her drink from the waiter and took a prim sip. “Darling, don’t
we all. I could make a fortune on blackmail with the stuff I know about the people
in this room alone. Don’t you let all that ugly talk get to you. People only whisper
about others because they’re afraid if they don’t give the mill fodder, they’ll end
up getting whispered about.”
Wyatt reached out for Mrs. Pritchard’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, Mrs.
Pritchard. I remember why you were always my favorite mom on the block.”
She blushed a bit at that. “Oh, stop it, you charming boy. And don’t think that lets
you off the hook. I still expect to get your business when you decide to marry this
girl.”
He barked a laugh. “I wouldn’t think of calling anyone else.”
Kelsey dragged her teeth over her bottom lip, a pang of emptiness echoing through
her. Wyatt sounded so genuine when he said it. Like there really was this possibility
in the future. He was a better liar than she gave him credit for.
But she was pulled from her thoughts when the spotlights at the front of the room
went on and the performer was introduced. A magician. Joy. Just what she needed tonight—more
illusions.
The show went on for thirty minutes without incident. The guy was good. Kelsey would
give him that. But her attention kept wandering to the people at the tables around
her. As soon as she’d meet anyone’s gaze, they’d avert their eyes. If Wyatt leaned
over to whisper something to her, others would whisper, too. It was unnerving and
frustrating and after a while, plain pissing her off. But she kept repeating Wyatt’s
words in her head. She would not show shame in front of these people. She would not
give them the satisfaction of letting them know they were getting to her.
And right when she settled down a bit, feeling calmer and more steady, all had to
get shot to hell in one simple request. “I need a volunteer for this next part. How
about you, my lovely?”
Kelsey’s focus snapped forward as the spotlight from up front swung and landed on
her. She blinked into the bright light. “What?”
The magician was stepping to the far end of the stage, holding his hand out toward
her. “Miss, would you mind being my next victim?”
The audience tittered, but Kelsey barely heard it over the pounding in her ears. She
shook her head.
“Aw, come on,” the magician cajoled, smiling wide. “I promise this won’t hurt a bit.
You even get a prize for volunteering.”
She shook her head again.
“Maybe you should offer to pay her,” an unidentified male voice in the back said.
“I’ve heard that works with her.”
The crowd laughed, but this time the sound had a knife edge to it, slicing right through
Kelsey. Wyatt’s head whipped around, his body bowing up beside her as he looked for
whoever had made the snide remark. “Motherfu—”