Chapter 13
“So what’s our plan of action?”
Lucy sipped her champagne and leaned against the guardrail that ran around the stern of this particular deck of the luxury yacht. Their visit to Aegis, just three days earlier, seemed a million miles and a lifetime away.
So did the nights she’d spent in Logan’s bed.
The yacht was transporting her, Logan, and more than two dozen other guests on the final leg of their journey to Nenufar. And as he’d been for every moment since they arrived home from the club, Logan was right by her side. He’d even accompanied her to her spa appointment.
Never in a million years would she have guessed that one day, she’d be totally naked in front of a beautician, having every unwanted hair waxed from her body, while a gorgeous specimen of manhood allowed her to squeeze the blood from his fingers with every excruciating, follicle-torturing peel.
She’d been totally naked apart from the collar that marked her out as a submissive. As he’d fastened it around her neck, Logan had explained that the spa was owned by people in the lifestyle, and the Annexe, where her wholesale defuzzing was due to take place, was used exclusively by customers who were seriously into kink.
Though she’d longed to try it, Lucy had never had the nerve to book an appointment for a full wax of her genital area. Doing it for the mission had freed her of her inhibitions, and in one fell swoop deepened her understanding of the freedom to be found in being the submissive half of a D/s relationship.
For Lucy, that session had been a revelation, a turning point in her relationship with the man who, in a dizzyingly short space of time, had ceased to be an irritating colleague and become a man with whom she could fall in love.
Glass of champagne in hand, he looked completely at home in their luxurious, if slightly unstable, surroundings. Little wonder—she didn’t suppose a Royal Marine who tossed his cookies at sea would get very far. The ribbing from his comrades would be both merciless and endless.
“For you, there is no action. You’re here to act as cover for me, and that’s all.” Logan took a healthy swig from his glass, grimaced, and gave the straw-coloured bubbles an eloquent glare of distaste.
“Don’t look like that. Did you see the label on the bottle when the steward was filling the glasses? This is classy stuff.” Lucy had recognised the decorative bottles on sight.
“There isn’t generally that much call for fancy champagne in the mess.”
She could imagine. Lucy sighed, and turned her gaze in the direction from which they’d come. Florida was somewhere out there, the destination for their flight from Heathrow. They’d travelled business class, in keeping with their cover as guests at an exclusive resort where every sensual pleasure imaginable was available—provided you had the money to pay for it.
Or, as in their case, looked as if you did. Lucy fingered her necklace. Logan had presented it to her the day after their visit to Aegis, back in what she was rapidly coming to think of as “real life”. It was supposed to be her day collar, all part of the image for the adored submissive of a successful broker in the City. Lucy doubted there were many brokers whose hands were roughened by work the way Logan’s were.
The yacht was their transport for the third and last segment of their journey from London. The transatlantic flight had been followed by a shorter one to the island where they’d picked up this magnificent vessel. Before weighing anchor, they’d all attended a safety briefing, which had included facts and figures about the trip, much of which had gone over the top of her head. Unlike Logan, she wasn’t a natural sailor, so to her, it seemed as if they’d been at sea for days.
“Do you have any idea how much longer it’ll be before we arrive?”
Logan cast his glance forward—not that there was anything to see, just blue water and darkening sky, dotted with the brightest stars just starting to emerge. “If the weather doesn’t close in and we carry on at this rate of progress, I’d say we have another two or three hours.”
“I’ll be glad when we do get there.”
Logan lifted his hand to loop a strand of hair, escaped from her ponytail, around her ear. “Maybe I can do something to take your mind off it. Would you like to go back to the cabin?”
Far from being the poky little berth of her imagination, their accommodation aboard this floating sex palace could have doubled for a suite in one of the swankiest hotels in the world. The centrepiece—and what a centrepiece—was a bed that could be measured by the acre.
A couple of hours… that bed… Logan Simmonds. Equal measures of time, place and man in a cocktail of pure pleasure, the thought alone more intoxicating than anything to be found behind a bar. Lucy dropped her gaze for a moment, then made eye contact with her Dom. “Could we, Sir? Please?”
“We’ve had too much of this for any serious play.” He clinked his champagne flute against hers.
As had most of the passengers. Overindulgence was probably the norm on this short cruise, which probably explained why the selection of toys provided in each suite was relatively uncomplicated and harmless.
“I know, Sir, but I’m sure there are other ways we can pass the time.”
Several cabins already had a “Do Not Disturb” tag hanging from the door handle. It appeared that the soundproofing might not be quite as effective as they’d been told, if the muted groans and cries of pleasure, and assorted other sounds were any indication.
When Logan transferred the tag to the outside of their door, Lucy’s heart rate shifted up a gear, banishing any feeling of fatigue from travelling for hours on end. She kicked off her heels and stood with her back to the door and Logan, hands clasped, fingers twisting nervously.
“Lisa.”
Undercover time. “Yes, Sir?”
His palms burned her shoulders, bare apart from the narrow straps of her sundress—the only garment she wore. Her Dom had taken her knickers before they boarded this floating shrine to decadence. Lips caressed the side of her neck, then his hands moved, and Logan was releasing her hair, combing it with his fingers to free it from its bonds.
“Remove your dress for me, please.”
There he went again, with that voice that made heat thicken and pool deep inside her. The formality of it, the order concealed within the polite request, all of it combined to send a shockwave of desire and longing through Lucy. Bereft of their only covering, her nipples beaded in the cool, air-conditioned atmosphere, tightening almost painfully at the feather-like drag of a fingertip down her spine. She arched beneath his touch.
“I love having you naked for me, Lisa.” His low voice rumbled over her skin. “It means you’re mine, and I know you’re wet and ready for me to take you.”
Hot palms caressed her hips with firm strokes. Fingers dug in, dragging her back against a hard body—and even harder cock. And where he was all hard, she was soft and needy, hungry for that hardness to fill her softness. The rigid evidence prodded her backside through the fine fabric of the designer slacks that Lucan Simpson favoured. Logan Simmonds hated them, and Lucy wondered, with more than a little impatience, how long it would take for them to come off.
For now, though, with Logan’s hands exploring her body and the heat of him at her back, Lucy was content to bask in the moment. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against Logan. The scent of him filled her with sensual hunger and the desire to surrender to whatever he wanted from her. Knowing he’d push her limits, but always keep her safe.
Always.
“Spread your legs for me, babe.”
“Babe” was Lucan’s pet name for Lisa. Logan had come up with it to help Lucy to separate herself from her false identity. How she longed to hear “princess” again.
Logan’s fingers glided between her folds. He touched her clit, and arousal quaked through her body. Only the muscular arm wrapped around her waist held her upright. The soft cotton of his shirt was a comforting whisper between them. He was all she could think of, all she craved. Her toes curled into the luxurious carpet. She gave a soft moan of pleasure bordering on agony.
“Make all the noise you want, Lisa.” The words were rough, honeyed sex whispered in her ear. “Fuck the soundproofing. Before we get to Nenufar, I’m going to make you scream so loud, everyone on board will hear you come.”
~~*~~
Soft music played, courtesy of the cabin’s state-of-the-art sound system. Logan was barely aware of it. The music, their surroundings, everything receded except the beautiful submissive who stood before him. In this hedonistic no man’s land between real life and the resort where pretence was the only option, there was no need to hide his growing desire for this woman.
Guilty secrets still poisoned his soul. He’d never been one for bothering the Almighty too much, but he prayed their first day on the island would give him the answers he needed to save him from telling Lucy the truth. Then he could use their time in the sun-drenched paradise to persuade this incredible woman to fall in love with him.
This fucking mission had been one complication after another. Go on holiday, ask a few questions about a missing couple. By the way, you’re taking the boss’ nit-picking secretary, who gets off on making your life difficult, to bolster your cover, and you have to train her to act like a submissive before you go.
Oh, and just for good measure—you’re going to end up falling in fucking love with her.
The irony didn’t escape him. Lucy had unknowingly restored his heart, only for him to give it back to her a thousand times over.
Would she accept it, and somewhere along the way, could he win hers?
“Feet shoulder width apart, and clasp your hands behind your back.”
A sub’s obedience always filled him with a unique kind of energy, but with Lucy it was… more. Insatiable lust pulsed through his body. More potent than any drug, she’d bound him to her in a way he could never explain. When he’d called her “princess” to annoy her, he’d had no idea she’d become his princess for real.
Warm and soft and perfect. He could feast on her for hours. She awakened the most primitive part of him, the part that wanted to claim her as his, the part that would rip the heart out of any other male who came sniffing around her, and protect her unto death.
The sharp gasp she gave when he slipped a finger inside her zeroed in on his groin—she was already wet, and when he drew his fingertip across the hard bud of her clitoris, her whole body jerked in response.
“What do you want, babe? Tell me.”
“You, Sir.” She looked at him with such naked, almost innocent need he almost fell to his knees at her feet. “Just you.”
His self-control eroding by the second, Logan swept her up in his arms and carried her to the massive bed. The disintegration accelerated under the onslaught of the hunger in her gaze as she watched him undress.
“Hold onto the bars.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the headboard, designed for convenience when it came to bondage games. “Don’t let go until I say.”
His cock was primed for action, but Lucy hadn’t come yet. Once he was balls-deep inside her, he’d be on a hair-trigger, and there was no way he’d take his own pleasure before he’d given her hers, with his mouth on her and his fingers inside her.
He yanked his shirt off over his head, vaguely aware of a couple of airborne buttons pinging against the walls and floor. Like the slacks, the tailored garment was another annoying symbol of the corporate dipshit he was having to play. At least in here, he could pretend he was the Master she deserved.
Christ, she was gorgeous, lying there so perfectly still. He leaned over her for a kiss. She parted her lips for him and her tongue met his, eager for their mutual pleasure. The way she was looking at him, with trust and a slow-smouldering desire… the connection that bound them together, a shining thread wending its way around his heart… if only he’d been worthy of that heaven.
As he looked at her, as he drowned in her loveliness, Logan saw more than the most incredible submissive he’d ever enjoyed—he saw a life full of the things he’d once thought could be his, before his failings as a man and a Dom had robbed an innocent of her life.
The dream shimmered before him, but instead of dissolving into mist, as it usually did, it became clearer, more solid, forming a challenge he’d assumed for so long he’d fail.
Could he come to terms with his past for the sake of a future with the woman he loved?
Her breast was a perfect fit for his palm, soft and full and tipped by a tight, delicious nipple. He sucked her deeply into his mouth, swirled his tongue over the hard, fleshy bud. She moaned softly and he bit down, clamping her nipple between his teeth, and the moan turned into a broken wail.
“Look at me, babe. Keep your eyes on me.”
Her gaze made contact with his. Already there was an air of drugged arousal about her. He’d drive her out of her mind with pleasure, before burying himself in all that sweetness. And he’d start it all with a kiss.
Every brush of his mouth elicited a response of some kind from his delicious sub. Every moan, whimper and squirm increased the pressure of his cock pushing against his remaining clothing, but she wasn’t ready yet.
This sensual treasure hunt aroused Logan more than he’d thought possible. She was laid before him, a prize like no other, a passionate vision in shades of cream and pink and gold, and smoky grey eyes, and pure submission to his will. Hair like silk and skin so delicate he was almost afraid to touch her.
She was sin incarnate, and a living temptation he’d never be able to resist. Her siren call had lured him onto the rocks, and he didn’t care.
He wanted… he needed… he loved.
His thumbs parted her folds, exposing her fully to him. Pink flesh glistened with proof of her arousal, beckoning to him to taste her, while the scent of her drove him insane with lust. She was all warm, feminine need, ready to be taken. At the first stroke of his tongue she arched again and cried out, louder this time, louder still when he sucked on the sensitive little bud.
He licked and sucked, driving her higher and higher. Her flesh, the most intimate part of her, quivered. She was heaven and more. He thrust two fingers inside her and she came, with a cry that made his dick ache.
Her body pulsed and throbbed, milking his fingers for what only he could give her. A third finger joined the others and she climaxed again, with ripples of unrelenting pleasure that had her sobbing and crying out.
“What do you want, girl? Tell me.” He could barely get the words out himself, yet still he expected Lucy to answer him.
“Please… You… You, Master!”
Rocked to his core, Logan froze. She’d sworn she’d never call him that, never—it was always Sir during submissive training, and Master Lucan while rehearsing their undercover roles. How could that one word threaten to shatter his control into a million glittering fragments?
With his fingers still filling her, Logan crawled up the bed. Driven by his basest desires, he ground his lips against hers, ancient claim thundering through his veins, setting every cell in his body on fire for this woman.
He slipped his fingers free and applied pressure to her labia, rubbing her slick flesh over her clit, increasing the tempo until he forced her through another screaming climax.
Lucy’s fingers uncurled from the headboard bars, but he wasn’t ready to finish with her yet. “Don’t let go,” he snarled, barely recognising his own voice in the savage growl.
Logan moved away from her long enough to sheathe his cock. Though he was ready to drive into her, hard and deep, he held back for a moment. Her pleasure was more important than his. Calling on every last atom of his self-control, he moved into the cradle of her thighs, but held himself poised at her entrance.
“Please…”
The need in her voice found its mate in an answering emptiness inside him. Never so certain of anything in his life before, he eased slowly inside the only woman who could take away the agony of that emptiness. Her body contracted around him, and he groaned at the sweet torture of it.
“Touch me.”
She needed no second bidding. In the shelter of her arms, he could set aside the past and be the man he used to be.
No. He’d never be that man again, but for the first time, he dared hope that with Lucy—for Lucy—he could be something better.
~~*~~
The sun had gone down by the time the yacht tied up at the resort’s private dock. Knowing they had to leave the cocoon of safety provided by their cabin, Logan battled with the nausea threatening to choke him. After they’d made love, irrational though it was, he’d watched Lucy sleep, as if by doing so, he could hold back the inevitable and keep her safe from any danger that might await them on the island.
“Logan? Are you okay?”
A gentle hand on his arm banished the melancholy of his thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. Got everything?”
“I already checked about three times. Before we go… I don’t want you to worry about me, okay? I can do this, Sir.”
Logan lifted a hand to touch her collar. This one wasn’t disguised as a necklace—there was no reason to do that here. “I know you can.”
On tiptoe, she placed a light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for having faith in me.”
With an arm wrapped around her shoulders, he guided her through the door and up to the deck where they’d leave the yacht behind, and join other guests in one of the stretch limos waiting to take them to the resort.
Their fellow passengers for the transfer comprised a heterosexual couple, a two men-one woman ménage, and a female pairing. Logan switched on his cover persona, and joined in with the shallow conversations about the resort’s reputation and facilities. It didn’t take long to establish their status as dabblers in the lifestyle. If these people turned up at Aegis, they wouldn’t last five minutes, and could even be out of their depth at this resort.
The sooner they arrived at the hotel, the better.
In spite of the lateness of the hour, the reception desk was fully staffed, and the process of checking in only took a few minutes.
“Thank you, sir.” The receptionist handed back his credit card after confirming their reservation. “Your accommodation is ready for you—through those doors, follow the signs for the beach, and you’ll see the path to the bungalows on the left.”
“Thanks.” Logan slid the plastic back into his wallet and pushed it into his hip pocket. “What about our luggage?”
“It should already be waiting for you, sir.”
He nodded his thanks to the receptionist, and turned to Lucy. She’d stifled a few yawns in the limo. No wonder she was exhausted—it had been a hellishly long day. He was more than ready to crash himself and could only imagine how she felt. He took her hand. “Come on. You’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”
She nodded in dog-tired agreement. “I feel like I could sleep for a week, Sir.”
Without thinking, he leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Let’s go.”
They made their way through the marble, glass and gold lobby, still thronged with guests as exotic-looking as the plants and flowers that provided vibrant splashes of colour. Music was playing somewhere, adding to the buzz of conversation and laughter.
As they made their way along the path to the bungalows—the most exclusive accommodation offered by the resort—the noises of humans at leisure were gradually displaced by the calming sounds of nature. In the distance the ocean murmured a soothing lullaby, accompanied by the breeze caressing the palm trees, and a perfect counterpoint for the faint, unidentifiable chirps and clicks of local six-legged wildlife.
Logan inserted the key card in the front door, then followed Lucy into their home and base of operations for the next week.
“Oh. My. God.”
He almost crashed into her. She’d ventured only a few feet into the room before coming to a grinding halt. “What?”
“This place is incredible!”
“It is?”
At his dismissive tone, she spun around and stared at him as if he’d flipped. “Seriously? You did not just say that?”
He shrugged. “It’s a room. Okay, it’s several rooms. What’s so special about them?”
“You only have to look at the décor! They’ve spared no expense with this place. Let’s have a look outside. If I remember rightly…”
He wondered where Lucy found the energy, when she grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the sliding glass doors on the other side of what was a very luxurious sitting area. He smiled and shook his head. “Okay, I’m coming. You do remember it’s dark out there?”
“Not on the patio. Oh my God, look!”
The hot tub he kind of expected—in a place like this, it was almost mandatory to have one of those outdoors, but he wasn’t expecting to see a regular bath just a few feet away from it, behind a low rush screen. Although given its size, “regular” was the last word he’d use to describe it. It could easily fit two people, and an image popped into his mind of sharing it with Lucy one evening, with only the moon and the recessed lighting in the decking for illumination.
“Can we use it?”
Her eagerness brought out a desire to tease her. “Right now? I thought you were tired?”
“I am, but before we have to leave…” She ran her hand along the top of the bath he could almost swim lengths in. “Could we…? Together…? Please, Sir.”
He already had a hard-on at the thought. “Any time you want to, baby—after we get some sleep. Would you like anything from room service first?”
“I’m still stuffed from dinner on the yacht, but don’t let me stop you.”
What he was hungry for wasn’t food, but they both needed to rest, for when the real job started. “What I want,” he said, gathering her in his arms and drawing her into a gentle hug, “is to find a huge, comfortable bed in that bedroom, get you into it, and watch you fall asleep.”
The bed was everything he’d hoped for. He tucked Lucy beneath the crisp, white sheets, then sat beside her.
“Is there anything I can get for you?”
She gave him a drowsy, contented smile, and patted the bed. “The only thing I want is you in here with me.”
“I think I can arrange that.” He stroked the stray strands of hair away from her face, then leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “Sure I can’t get you something to drink? Glass of water? Wine? I think there’s champagne in the fridge.”
During his own research into the resort, Logan had discovered that each bungalow came with its own kitchen.
“No, I’m fine, honestly—thank you.”
“Okay. You get comfortable, and I’ll be right back.”
Moments later, Logan slipped between the sheets and fitted his naked body to Lucy’s. He smiled for a moment at Lucy’s contented sigh, then reality bludgeoned its way into claiming his attention. In just a few hours, he’d have to start asking questions. More than ever, he hoped the alarm over Diana Carstairs’ whereabouts was unwarranted, but gathering strength at the back of his mind was the nightmare that they might be about to open up a can of worms more deadly than any of them had anticipated.