THE MAN’S AN ENIGMA. Usually, I can read eyes well. But his dark depths hold secrets. I practically ran out of his room because his gaze trapped me. I was looking too deeply, trying to read his eyes.
But I couldn’t. Until our gazes collided in the mirror.
His eyes flared so fast, I would’ve missed it if I wasn’t scrutinizing his face for any hint of emotion.
He has one hell of a poker face. I’ll give the man that. It occurred to me while I was lingering amongst his things, that he terrifies me not so much because of the things he wants from me, but because I’m starting to want to give them to him.
It’s probably because I’ve never personally interacted with a man of his caliber before. It’s not his wealth… it’s just him. He’s so physically overpowering, a true dominant male of the species. It’s practically stamped on his forehead, in the strong planes of his face, the hard tick of his jaw… it’s in the way he carries himself so assertively. The feel of his hard length against my bum felt decadent. I wanted it. For a split-second, I wished I could forget everything and just give in to the pure pleasure he would give. His attributes are affecting me; calling to the woman in me, making me crave him because it’s just nature. Survival of the fittest; the instinct to mate with the strongest male in the pride.
My hand brushes a stray piece of hair behind my ear. Images of animals mating in the wild fill my head. The male mounting the female, rutting into her as he grunts in satisfaction.
Could I be her?
Do I secretly want to be mounted and taken so viscerally? Is he awakening a need I never knew I had?
I bit my lip so hard I taste blood, no longer scared of Christos, but terrified of myself. Being out here is romantic, just as Andre predicted. My mind keeps replaying the hot tub scene. I can’t shut it off.
“Did you finish cleaning his cabin?”
“Yes. There wasn’t much to do in there.”
“Thank fuck. Come on. Follow me to the den. There’s cum and condoms everywhere.”
“That’s disgusting. I won’t clean that.”
Her eyebrow rose. “You better. He personally asked for you to help clean the interior today.”
“Did he?”
Anger colors my face red. Just when I started to let myself think maybe I could sample a man like him, if only for one night—I’m once again reminded what an arrogant prick he is. I could never let a man like him touch me. When I had asked Andre out, I was completely flustered, my mind caught in someone else’s web.
But he’s exactly my type: carefree, unassuming—safe.
Sara opened the door; my hand covered my mouth and nose as the scents from within the room greeted us.
“What in the heck did they do in here?”
“Everything.”
“Um, no. I’m not going in. I’ll probably puke.”
“Loosen up. It was just an orgy. You can’t tell me you haven’t seen a few working in yachting.”
“I saw a threesome in a hot tub once,” I shrugged, feet not moving.
“Oh? Did you watch? You voyeur.”
“No. I-I didn’t.” A blush crept up my neck.
“Liar. You’re a dirty girl at heart just like the rest of us.”
“Sara… has Christos ever, you know, made a pass at you?”
“Never. Although I wish he would. I hemmed my dress up by three inches, so the curve of my ass will show every time I bend over. But he’s distant, cold even. I’d swear that man was gay if I didn’t personally witness the women walking bowlegged out to the tender when he’s through.
“Does that happen often?”
“Why? You want a turn?”
“Me? Never,” I squeaked.
“It’s okay. It’s just us girls.”
My foot was holding the door open, letting some of the fumes of ecstasy escape. Shrugging, I entered the den of Eden, the door shut behind me with a firm click.
“What the...”
My eyes adjusted to the bright light as Sara pulled back the heavy velvet curtains from the bank of windows.
Floggers, vibrators, lube, nipple clamps, and canes lay scattered on the table. Full condoms were discarded just outside the trash receptacle; tossed carelessly, just missing going in.
“Two men and two women did all of this?”
“No. I heard Christos mostly watched. After he and Alex had their fill, they invited the mechanic and Captain to get their fill.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“Maybe. But men at sea have needs.”
“If you say so.”
“Cut the crap. I’m not afraid to admit I need a good plow now and then.”
“Jesus, Sara.”
“Stop being such a shrew. You can’t be a virgin?”
“I’m not. But neither do I feel the need to partake in something like this…”
“I would. In a heartbeat, if I was asked. But they never do. Can you keep a secret?”
She leaned in conspiratorially, about to share with me something I’m sure I’d rather not hear. “The other stewardess, Bree, isn’t sick. She joined. The men tired her out. She’s in bed with a packet of ice between her thighs. Heck, probably one between her ass cheeks, too.”
Staring at the evidence of sexual deviancy, my head shook. “One man, maybe I could just belong to one man. What happened in here, is nothing I remotely want any part of. I need to get off this boat. I have no respect for the crew, the captain or its owner. I won’t be asked to clean up cum or look the other way as sexual predators prowl onboard. I can’t work here anymore, Sara. As soon as we dock for new supplies and I can hook up to Wi-Fi, I’ll look for job postings on other boats.”
“Only a select few on this yacht have the passcode to the Internet. I’m sorry, but I’m not even one of them.”
“I’m beginning to understand why. They want to keep what goes on here, private and away from social media or Alex won’t end his summer with a bride.”
“Especially if she was to find out he likes his bum stimulated.”
I couldn’t help it, we both burst in giggles.
My shoulders ached. I cleaned every inch of the boat except the den. I wouldn’t do it on principle. Couldn’t bear to touch things that were used to inflict pleasurable pain on someone’s flesh.
After being cooped up inside all day, the last thing I wanted to do was go into my crawl space of a room. I need to be up here, where the stars guide a path across the sea and the wind kissed my face.
Huddled under a thin blanket, my head rested on a pillow from a lounger as I gazed at more stars than I ever thought existed.
“Did you like it?”
“W-what?” I stuttered, so lost in the sky I momentarily forgot where I was. He leaned casually against the deck rail, lifting a lighter to the cigar dangling from his lips. After it was lit, he took a few quick puffs. His dark eyes never left mine.
“Cleaning the interior of the boat all day. It was your punishment. Did you think I would forget that stunt you pulled last night? You could’ve broken your neck, jumping over the rail like that.”
“But I didn’t.”
His nostrils flared. He carefully extinguished the cigar only lit for a minute. The pulse beats in my throat, my stomach flipped. But I didn’t move. The need to find out what he was going to do was stronger than my urge to get away.
“Ah, my little dove, your eyes are so expressive.” My eyes shut involuntarily as his warm finger trailed down my cheek. His touch was light, sweet even, with an undercurrent of possession. Expecting him to kiss me, my lips parted. But his lips never landed on mine. Instead, I was yanked up by one arm. “Don’t ever run from me again,” he bit out through clenched teeth while his hand gripping me so tightly—I had no doubt tomorrow my skin would be marked.
“You don’t own me.” I attempted to jerk my arm free, but his grip only tightened.
“I do. And you already know it.”
“Never. We’ve already had this conversation and you might be heartless but hardly seem like a dense man. Let it go. Let me go. RIGHT NOW.”
He jerked me forward, bruising lips crashed on mine. My head jerked back just as his tongue briefly tasted mine. Using my free hand, I smacked him right across his smug face.
Expecting anger, I was stunned when his eyes widened, and he smiled so bright. It was as if I was looking at a man who was blind but could suddenly see.
“Thank you, Jessie,” he breathed, dark eyes full of passion and…obsession? I gulped, turning away wondering why this strange man was becoming a puzzle I needed to solve. The pieces that make him don’t match up. It’s intriguing…dangerous. He didn’t follow me as I fled his presence for the second night in a row. I was too wound up to sleep, so I headed to the crew mess. Bree was finally up. Her cheeks were flushed, and tiny bruises covered her neck.
“What? Don’t judge me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Weren’t you?”
“Not at all.”
“Jealous, then?”
“Absolutely, not.”
“Liar,” she grinned, sipping her drink.
My face heated but I wasn’t jealous, not if he didn’t touch her. “Did...did you…?”
“I did.”
“With all of them?”
“All except Christos. He watched. I imagined it was him, plowing me, hitting my G-Spot.” I swallowed hard, looking down at my broken fingernails.
“Why? Why would you want that? Didn’t you feel…used…dirty?”
“Yes, and it was glorious. You’re young; naïve. When men know how to fuck and just want to make you come—there’s nothing else like it. It’s just intense pleasure with no baggage. The first rule is never to fall for them. That’s why you never kiss during a scene.”
“A scene?”
“I’m not just a stewardess. I used to be a sub. That’s why they asked me to join in after they finished with the hookers.”
I shook my head, stunned at how blasé she was being about this. As if being a sub to billionaires was an everyday thing.
“Were you Christos’ sub?”
“El Diablo? No, I wish,” she snorted. “I belonged to Dimitri Santos.”
“What happened?”
“I broke all the rules. We kissed…I fell in love. He didn’t,” she shrugged.
I stared at her bent head. She was older than me but still beautiful. The type to turn heads with long, glossy dark hair and a slim figure. “So, what was last night about?”
“Money and sex. I keep my heart out of it. I won’t be any man’s long-term sub anymore. But for the right price, I’ll be a one-night sub. Christos knows this. Sara practically begged to join in. But none of them want her.”
“Why? She’s gorgeous.”
“Maybe, but she’s too eager to land a rich man. They smell her desperation. Besides, before she got promoted to chief stew, she used to fuck the crew. The big players don’t want pussy a common man’s dick’s been in. I bet yours would fetch a fortune.”
“What?” I croaked.
“You are just the kind of girl they want. Young, fresh…I bet you’ve probably never done anal.”
“No…I’m pretty much vanilla in bed.”
“We all were,” she smirked. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“No, thanks.” I got up to leave, both repulsed and intrigued by how open she was being. “Can I ask you something?” I paused in the doorway.
“Sure.”
“Did Christos ask you to talk to me.”
She was silent for a few seconds. “No, but if he wants you…I’d consider it. He’s very discreet. From what I hear—his subs are set for life when he’s done with them.”
“I don’t want money.”
She rolled her eyes, “stop being such a goody-two-shoes. Life is about money. That’s why you swabbed decks today and cleaned up cum.”
“I didn’t do that. And no—I can work anywhere for money. But being on the Mediterranean earning it was a goal.”
“If you give Christos a chance…you could make all the money you want on the Med.”
“But on my back.”
“Yes. Your knees, too. It’s your loss if you don’t. I knew his last sub. She said he fucked like a wild stallion, not stopping until she fainted from the force of her orgasms.”
“Bullshit. You can’t faint from them.”
“Yes, you can. Sounds like your vanilla guys don’t know shit in the sack.”
“Whatever. I’m going to bed.” But something held me back. I was curious about her…this faceless woman who did everything Christos had asked.
“What happened to her.”
“The ex-sub?”
“Yes.”
“She made the same mistake I did. We met at the club for broken-hearted subs.”
“She fell in love…with… him?”
“Don’t look so shocked. It’s hard not to fall in love with your Dom.”
“But him?”
“Why wouldn’t she?”
“I don’t know…he seems so, so—arrogant…domineering and he’s kind of a prick.”
“What’s your usual type then? Blonde surfers, half-baked, strumming guitars on the beach living in an Airstream?”
My face turned red. She had just described my ex, Warren, to a T.
“Maybe.”
“God. What a bore he must’ve been.”
I shrugged. “He was good to me.”
“Then what happened?”
“I wanted more.”
“We always do,” she replied, getting up taking a bottle of tequila from a cupboard. “Care to join me?”
“No, thanks.”
“Night,” she smirked, taking her pack of cigarettes out and going outside.
I’d never do it, I thought. Maybe I could have a one-night stand with a sexy stranger, but being a sub? Never. Especially for money. I’m not a whore. Sex for me, always involved feelings…what Bree described was carnal, lustful—dirty and wrong. So why do my thighs feel wet and achy? My nipples hardened in my bra.
For a woman who never thought about sex much, I can’t stop thinking about it. Or imagining Christos’ tan hands roaming over my bare skin. As my head hit my small pillow and my eyes looked out the tiny porthole at the head of my bunk bed, I wondered if I was brave enough to let him take me to the dark stars. The whisper of his taste was still on my tongue; our almost kiss made me burn more than every other kiss I’d ever had. My small metal bunk creaked as I shimmied out of my sleep shorts and tank. Biting my lip, I closed my eyes, circling my tiny breasts, flicking my nipples while moaning the devil’s name. One hand dipped down, parting my wet folds and I fingered myself feeling my cheeks burn. My small porthole of a room was stuffy, the smell of diesel fuel and oil coming up from the engine room beneath me.
In and out, I worked myself, pressing down on my clit, seeking relief from the carnal desires he was awakening. I needed more. Nothing I was doing to myself was relieving this ache. I picked a towel off a hook, rolled it and laid on my stomach. It gave just enough pressure against my clit. The friction from the rumpled bed sheets moved across my nipples as I slid my fingers inside myself, screaming his name into the pillow as I came apart; finding relief but feeling dirty after what I made myself do to achieve it for the second time in the same day.
I smirked, with a glass of scotch in my hand, my eyes never left the screen. I kept her busy, cleaning my yacht all day, so my team could install hidden security cameras in her small bunk room. I’ve crossed the line beyond any doubt, since I ordered a waterproof one to be installed in her shower head.
Fuck, I’m hard.
Bree’s little chat with her worked. She’s never worked as a stew on a boat, but I know her former DOM. He asked me for this favor, so he could get some distance from her while courting her replacement. I granted the favor for him since he helped me unload Fiona.
Jessie spreads her soft pink lips; I smacked my own, watching the whole thing stream live from the camera in the crew mess to my iPad.
I’ve been watching her from day one, even when I was an ocean away. But only today did I ask for the cameras in her room to be installed. I knew that if I had done it sooner, I wouldn’t have been able to resist her. I’d blow up all the deals on my desk in my haste to claim her sweet cunt. The one she’s touching right now as she moans and writhes in her narrow bed. She pretends to be repulsed, but her inner dirty girl is surfacing.
I’m close. So close, from turning her no…to a yes.
“Christos,” she moaned, sliding her hand in deeper to play with herself. Her other hand circled her naked breasts. My mouth watered, hungering to take her plump buds into my mouth and roll them with my tongue. I knew the day would come when I would. I also know the taste of her tits on my tongue alone, might make me come.
I unzipped my pants, took myself out, stroking myself in live time with her while she panted in a metal bed three decks below my lavish stateroom. As she moaned my name, coming…I replied by shouting hers hoarsely as wave after wave of my hot cum spurted on the bedsheets.
I debated whether to make her clean my room again; making her witness my sticky seed that spilled in her name. But that could wait. The first time I want her anywhere near my cum, is when it’s gushing from her mouth.