SIXTEEN
Wyatt spoke in low tones to the young guy he’d commandeered to take them over to the island. He didn’t want Kelsey hearing his instructions. He was enjoying that curious look she was giving him from her perch on the large cushions on the back deck of the small yacht.
“You sure you know how to handle this thing?” Wyatt asked. The kid couldn’t have been more than twenty-two or twenty-three.
“No problem, sir.” Johan slid his sunglasses to the top of his head. “I’ve been helping my father captain the boats since I was sixteen. You’re in good hands.”
“Excellent.” The boat rocked beneath them with the wake from the large luxury liner the other guests had boarded. Wyatt reached out for a railing, watching with satisfaction as the other ship pulled away without them. “You see that boat, my friend. Stay a good distance from that one. I’m paying you for privacy.”
“Yes, sir. I understand completely,” Johan said, a shy but sly smile breaking through all that suntanned skin, his cheeks coloring a bit. His gaze strayed to Kelsey for a moment, and there was no missing the flare of appreciation.
Wyatt couldn’t blame the kid. Hell, he probably shouldn’t even think of him as a kid, as he was no doubt closer to Kelsey’s age than Wyatt was. He laid a hand on Johan’s shoulder. “You can look all you want, but touch her and I’ll throw you off the side of the boat.”
Johan gave an uneasy laugh. “May be worth it, sir. I’m a good swimmer. But I promise to keep my hands on the wheel.”
Wyatt smiled and headed back down toward Kelsey. She held her hand over her eyes, shielding the sunlight and watching him walk toward her. Lord, she was beautiful, all sun-kissed and windblown. Her grin was a bright ray of light even amongst all the tropical beauty surrounding them. To think she’d been through so much darkness in her life, so much hurt . . . The knowledge was like a lead weight pressing against his chest. It didn’t seem fair that he’d been gifted with so much in his life when someone like Kelsey had been given so little.
Yet, here she was, a survivor, a fighter. And even though he knew she had mixed feelings about him giving her money, and would probably lose her shit when she actually opened the envelope and saw how much, the move had been pure selfishness on his part. He couldn’t give her what she deserved—love, a relationship, a soft place to fall. But he could make sure she never had to ask anyone for anything again.
It wasn’t money for her time here. But it was a thank you. Because even though this was going to be brief, he knew already that this week was going to be one of the best of his life. The old fears would still rumble in the back of his brain, but he wasn’t going to waste another minute ruminating. Not when he had something so precious waiting for him.
“Does Abercrombie know what he’s doing?” Kelsey asked as Wyatt lowered himself to the deck cushions.
“Abercrombie?”
She smirked. “Never mind. I’m guessing you don’t get that catalog.”
He glanced over at Johan. “You’re telling me you think our young captain looks like a catalog model. Should I be jealous? He is closer to your age, after all.”
She shoved his thigh with her bare foot. “First off, why go for cute, when I have six feet of gorgeous man right in front of me? And, second of all, that kid wouldn’t know what to do with me.”
“Mmm,” he said, sliding his fingers around her ankle and gripping, enjoying the little catch of her breath it caused. “Too much for him, huh?”
She leaned back on her elbows, her gaze leaving heat trails over his skin in its wake. “Yes, sir.”
The simple reply pushed that button inside of him, had everything he’d kept banked all morning leaking through. “Tell me, Kelsey. Is he the type of guy you’d pick to be under your boot heel at The Ranch? Grant told me you prefer the more innocent ones.”
Her focus slid away from his face and to the horizon, a curtain falling. “Do you really want to know about that part of me, Wyatt?”
His hand slid up her calf, but he continued to watch her. The thought of her having to dominate someone for cash pissed him off. But the idea that she had that side to her was more than a little intriguing. Submitting held no appeal for him personally, but he couldn’t pretend that the image of her making other men grovel at her feet didn’t turn him on just a little—as long as those men never touched her. In those fantasies he’d weaved since finding out about her dominance, she was his. Her submissives could be lashed by her, made to beg, touch themselves, but only he had the privilege of bringing her pleasure. Maybe right in front of those very men, showing them what they could never give her.
Yes, he knew it was a caveman urge, but fuck it. His fantasies. His rules.
“I want to know about all sides of you, love,” he said evenly as the ship’s engine rumbled to life beneath them.
She continued to stare toward the open sea but relented. “I do like the gentler souls, the ones who come to me because they crave the experience and are appreciative of it. Those who aren’t just saying the right things and playing some game because they want to see a chick in thigh-high boots and a corset. Or worse, the ones who think I’m going to break my rules and let them fuck me.”
“You’ve never slept with any of your subs?” he asked, honestly curious.
She shook her head. “There are some I’m fond of and care about. And there are times I get turned on in a session. But the pleasure for me is in the power exchange and seeing how my sub responds to it. Knowing I can provide them with something they so desperately ache for makes me feel . . . valued. But there’s not this burning desire to sleep with my submissives.”
He cupped the backside of her knee, bending it and tugging her closer to him. “I can’t say I feel the same way about my submissive.”
Her lips curved as the boat pulled out of the harbor. “Or I about my dominant.”
“Hmm, good to know.” He dragged her onto his lap, loving how she offered absolutely no resistance, and then tucked her between his knees, letting her lean back onto his chest. He brushed his fingers along her bare arms. “I told Johan to take the slow route, so the trip will be about an hour.”
“The slow route?” she asked, her voice going soft and pliant, like she was already sinking under his command. His blood heated at the thought.
“Yes. I have plans for you. But for now, love, enjoy the pretty view.” He brought his fingers to the curve of her neck, caressing. “And I’ll enjoy touching you.”
And maybe, just maybe, young Johan would get more of a show than he anticipated.
* * *
Kelsey stared out over the expanse of sapphire water, watching the ripple of white-tipped waves the boat was causing in the rolling surface. “I’ve never seen water this color. The only beach I’ve ever been on is Galveston Island.”
Wyatt sat his chin atop her head, his arms still wrapped around her from behind. “Yeah, this is no Gulf of Mexico, that’s for sure.”
The sky was turning shades of pink and orange as the sun tracked its way lower toward the horizon, making the island they’d left in the distance look like it was gilded with fire and diamonds. Everything was so bright here, so clean and vibrant, like slashes of paint had been thrown everywhere. She could almost feel all that color seeping into her skin and bleeding into the dark corners that lurked inside her, chasing out the grays. It was hard to believe that some people got to see all this beauty every day.
But even with the stunning view, she was having a hard time concentrating on anything but the man behind her. Wyatt’s fingers were drifting over her skin, absently caressing her arms, her neck, the tops of her thighs. The touches were simple, but each one was stoking the embers that had been burning in her since the car ride. His promise he’d made on the dock hung heavy between them. He had plans, illicit plans, and all she could do was wait to see what those were.
She knew there was a cabin on the other side of the wooden doors at the base of the steps behind them. And undoubtedly Wyatt had paid for full use of all the boat’s amenities. She’d seen the wad of cash that had passed hands. But Wyatt didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get up and go down there.
His touch traced along the collar of her blouse, teasing at the top button, then plucking it open. Without concern for the guy steering the boat a few feet behind them, Wyatt dipped his hand inside and fondled her with a teasing touch. “You have far too many clothes on, love.”
“Maybe you should take me inside, then, sir,” she said, leaning her head back against his shoulder and relishing the little threads of anticipation that drew her nipple tight against his palm.
“And miss the breathtaking view? Not a chance.” His lips pressed against the shell of her ear. “Take your shirt and panties off, Kelsey.”
A spark of disbelief shot through her, a knee-jerk response, but an achy oh hell yes was fast on its heels. “Right here?”
“Are you questioning me, love?” he asked, that smooth, dark edge of dominance lacing his deep voice.
She dragged her teeth over her lip. “No, sir.”
“Then get to it.”
Her heartbeat climbed up into her throat, but she went to work on her remaining buttons. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been naked in front of strangers before. God knows it should be second nature to her by now. But knowing that Wyatt was commanding it, that he wanted her exposed for him regardless of who was nearby, sent hot, hungry desire pulsing through her. He’d promised her he wouldn’t share her, so she trusted he didn’t have that in mind, but he’d never promised not to share the sight of her.
She spread the blouse open and off her shoulders, leaving her in her demi-cup lace bra. Then she slipped her hands beneath her flouncy knee-length skirt, hooking her fingers in the sides of her panties and tugging them down. She had to get to her feet to work them fully off and when she stepped out of them, the warm ocean breeze swept beneath her skirt, kissing and caressing all the warm, wet parts of her. Shivers tracked across her skin. She turned toward Wyatt and caught sight of Johan sneaking a peek over his shoulder.
When he realized she’d seen him, she gave him a pointed look and he lowered his gaze and turned back toward the wheel. That’s right, she thought with satisfaction, her own dominance simmering at the surface. You haven’t earned that look yet, pretty boy.
Wyatt gave a chuckle there at her feet, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he took her hand and guided her back down to him. “I have to say, love. Dominance looks hella sexy on you. After a look like that, that poor kid’s either terrified or hard as a rock, depending on his persuasion.”
She settled down on Wyatt, straddling his legs and examining his expression, surprised by what she saw there. “Well, look at you. You like the idea that he might be turned on, don’t you?”
He drew his big hands up along her waist, skating them up her sides until he was cradling the lace cups of her bra. “I may have a bit of an exhibitionist streak, truth be told.” His thumbs circled her nipples, teasing them. “But I have a feeling you share that inclination.”
She curved her back, pressing into his touch, her bared sex rocking against his soft linen pants. “Would’ve never survived dancing if I didn’t, but I wouldn’t have suspected it of you. You’re so private.”
He slipped his hand behind her bra, unhooking it with a quick flick of his fingers. Her bra fell away, and he scraped his stubble over her tender pink points. “I’ve lived my life always being aware of my family’s position, of who was watching, who would gossip. I don’t have the luxury of being indiscreet. But if it wasn’t for that, I’d have no problem spreading you across my conference table and fucking you right in the middle of a board meeting.”
She rubbed her lips together, the image both filthy and enticing. Who would’ve ever thought that the quiet businessman could shock her? “Wyatt Austin, how did I ever miss seeing this side of you? You are one down and dirty pervert.”
He laughed and nipped at the soft underside of her arm. “Guilty as charged. You probably don’t want to see inside this head.”
“Oh, I think I do,” she said, grabbing for his hair as he lowered his head and took her nipple fully in the hot cavern of his mouth, sucking hard. “I really, really do.”
He pulled off with a soft popping sound and sent her a smile dripping with sin. “Let’s see about that.” He tilted his head, looking back over his shoulder. “Johan.”
“Yes, sir.” Johan swiveled in an instant, his pale green eyes going wide as he took in the spectacle. His tongue swept over his bottom lip, nervous . . . interested.
“You think we can stop and drop anchor here for a few minutes?” Wyatt asked, turning back to Kelsey, wicked smirk still in place. “I don’t want you crashing into the rocks, trying to see behind you.”
Johan’s gaze darted to Kelsey’s, then downward, his tawny cheeks darkening as he took in her near nudity. “I, uh, yes, sir. Whatever you need.”
Kelsey smiled, Johan’s bashful reaction reminding her of Hawk’s first time in her dungeon. He’d been so halting, respectful in the way only Southern men could be, but there had also been a keen desire underlying that layer of shyness. A hungry space to be filled.
“You don’t have to watch anything if it makes you uncomfortable, Johan,” she said gently, drawing her hair forward to cover her breasts. “We don’t mind you looking, but it’s your decision.”
If Wyatt thought she was overstepping her bounds by taking control of the situation with Johan, he didn’t say anything. His hands just stroked the small of her back, his cock growing hard against her spread legs.
Johan turned fully around, his board shorts looking a little tighter in the front and his fingers fiddling with the braided leather bracelet on his wrist. “I think I’d do just about anything to watch. As long as it’s okay with you.”
Wyatt lifted an eyebrow at Kelsey, a question mark. “Your call, love. I won’t command you on this one.”
“Drop anchor, Johan,” she said without tearing her gaze away from Wyatt.
Wyatt’s full lips curved. “Get on your knees, love, and face the side railing. Time for me to fuck you.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, feeling that rush that came when he used that tone.
She climbed off Wyatt and crawled on her hands and knees to the side railing, the Caribbean stretching out in front of her, an endless blue horizon. Johan scrambled around, hitting buttons and causing a loud grinding beneath them as the anchor dropped. But Kelsey was no longer paying attention to him. Not when Wyatt sidled up behind her and stroked her waist.
“Put your hands on the bottom rail,” he breathed against her ear.
She did so without hesitation, her blood quickening in her veins. He pulled cuffs from the duffel bag he’d brought with him, ones with soft, supple leather and a little chain between them. With deft movements that belied his I-haven’t-done-this-in-a-while experience, he locked her to the railing, leaving her chained and resting on her forearms, her nipples brushing the canvas of the cushion she was perched on and her ass in the air. The wanton position probably should’ve made her self-conscious, but instead a surprising stillness bloomed inside her, intense calm.
Wyatt stroked the back of his hand down her spine, sending tingling sparks outward and all the way to her toes, and then he pushed her skirt upward, exposing her fully. His palms skated over her curves, warming, worshiping, lulling her into an even deeper state of focus. The man knew exactly how to wake up her senses, how to make her aware of every part of herself. No hiding. No separating her mind from the things stirring her body.
Stay here with me, love. Your responses are mine. She could almost hear the whisper of that command in his deliberate movements.
Then, right as she thought she’d memorized his rhythm, his next move, a sharp smack landed on her ass cheek, the force of it making air whoosh past her lips. Wyatt pressed his palm to the stinging spot, soothing again. “So very pretty, love. You should see how your pussy has already gone dark and pink for me.”
He spanked her opposite cheek just as hard, the sound echoing in the air around them. She whimpered softly, the fierceness of his blows sending a flood of moisture between her thighs, the burning sting only making her squirm for more of his touch. Fiery need engulfed her.
He gusted a gentle breath over her soaked sex. “And your scent, I could just bury myself in it, eat this sexy cunt until they heard your screams all the way back on the main island.”
“Fuuuuck.”
Kelsey thought at first that she had been the one to breathe that word; it had been what she was thinking. But the low, male voice was not her own. She turned her head to the side to find Johan sitting a few feet away, his gaze burning, his lips parted, and the front of his shorts tenting with a rather impressive erection.
“You like him watching you, Kelsey?” Wyatt asked before slowly drawing the tip of his tongue over her slit. “Like knowing that he wishes it was him about to fuck you instead of me?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, the dirty words and touch of his tongue vibrating through her and lighting up all those needy deviant parts of herself. “Yes, sir.”
“If you want to please her, Johan, take off that shirt of yours and give her something to look at. My pretty girl thinks you look like an Abercrombie model,” Wyatt said with playful sarcasm.
There was a scrambling sound of quick movement.
Wyatt’s fingers dipped inside her, curling and stroking, and she moaned, her eyes fluttering open. In her peripheral vision, she saw Johan yanking his T-shirt off like it was on fire, and he exposed the tan, fit physique of a guy who spent his days swimming against the waves. Lovely and lean. Not in the honed, broad-shouldered way Wyatt was, but easy on the eyes nonetheless. Johan gave her a small, abashed smile when he noticed her looking.
But the sight of Johan didn’t affect her nearly as much as what his presence represented. The fact that Wyatt was behind her, indulging her with a good-looking college guy to play with, imposing no shreds of jealousy or insecure male posturing, was about the hottest thing she could imagine. That supreme confidence of not thinking but knowing that no one could compete with him for her attention made her ache all the more. She was all his, and he knew it.
But Kelsey couldn’t focus on their one-man audience for long because Wyatt’s mouth was on her again, his thumbs spreading her open and giving him full access to every sensitive spot. Her head lolled forward, her eyes closing again, as tight, winding sensation worked through her. He took the slow and sensual approach, like he didn’t care if they sat here in the middle of the water until the sky went black. Long and languid strokes that made her legs quiver; soft, sucking kisses to her clit; and light teasing brushes over her back opening all coalesced and transformed her into a mewling, panting mess. The cuff chain rattled against the metal railing as she fought to hold herself still, and the blue horizon swam in her vision.
This man didn’t simply use his mouth as a step to get to the main course, he feasted and savored her like this was the five-star meal. “Wyatt, please, I’m going to come.”
A hand swatted her thigh, swift and biting, making her choke on her moan. Wyatt shifted behind her. “You won’t. Not until I tell you.”
She lifted her head, trying to catch her breath and push back the climbing urge before it moved past the point of her own control. Her sight snagged on Johan. The laces were now undone on the front of his board shorts and his hand was tucked inside. His eyelids had gone half-mast, but his focus was still locked on the two of them. She glanced back over her shoulder at Wyatt, who was sitting back on his knees, his fingers stroking her again. “He doesn’t get to come until I do either.”
A soft, strangled gasp escaped Johan.
Wyatt smiled, dark appreciation in his eyes. “He’s not yours to command, love.”
“I’ll do it,” Johan cut in, the words rushed and eager. “I’ll wait for her.”
Wyatt’s gaze seared her, his own desire like a physical blow to her body. “Lucky, lucky me. Now I have two of you at my mercy.” The back of his hand brushed her slick folds. “There’s lube in my bag, kid, if you need it. I like to take my time with her.”
Johan cursed softly.
“Open for me, Kelsey.”
She spread her knees wide and tilted her hips upward, all of her tender parts now pulsing with the blood pumping fire through her. Her fingers curled around the railing.
“Tell me what you want, love,” Wyatt said, the sound of his zipper like thunder compared to the quiet sounds of water lapping, her own breath, and the slick slide of Johan’s pumping fist. Wyatt rolled on a condom and positioned himself behind her, tracing the tip of his cock along her folds in an agonizing tease. She rocked her hips backward, trying to take him in, to force things, but he wasn’t going to let her control that. He pinched the back of her thigh with evil intensity. “Tell me or you won’t get any of it.”
She cried out at the pinch, the sharp pain shooting upward and somehow making her nipples ache for the same. “I want you, sir. Your hands, your cock. I want you to fuck me until I scream and Johan comes all over himself.”
“Fucking hell,” Johan groaned, his voice sounding desperate and distant to Kelsey’s buzzing brain.
Wyatt gripped her hips and shoved forward, stretching her hard and fast, and stealing all her oxygen. She arched upward, the sudden sensation of being so full an intense one. “Oh, God.”
Her teeth sunk into her lip as he reared back and plunged forward again. No sweetness or gentleness there, just determined dominance. His fingers bit into her hips with bruising force, and the pain was like sweet, sweet fire racing over her nerve endings. “That’s right, love. Take it hard. Show me how much you like to be fucked.”
She sagged fully onto her forearms as he thrust over her slick tissues, holding her at the perfect angle to grind right over her hot spot. Her mind began to fuzz from the pleasure, the pain, the perfect cocktail of both.
His hand locked in her hair, pulling tight against her scalp, and he turned her head. “Look at him, love. Look what your sexy moans are doing to him. Feel what they’re doing to me.”
She pried her eyes open, even though she was drifting into that near-narcotic headspace Wyatt seemed to bring her to, and saw that Johan had shoved his shorts down his thighs and was reclined against the other railing, his jutting cock ruddy and thick in his glistening fist and his other hand cupping and squeezing his balls. Clearly he had his own appreciation for a little pain. All shyness had disappeared in the blinding haze of lust and desire. His gaze latched onto hers. He looked on the brink, desperate, but determined not to break before she did.
Wyatt released her hair, but she understood he wanted her to keep watching. Johan was a gift to her. And Wyatt seemed to be enjoying her teasing another. His arm wrapped around her, finding her swollen clit and pinching. She groaned, a wholly unfeminine sound, and spots appeared in her vision. “Please, Wyatt, please, I can’t—”
“You can come, love. Come all over my cock and watch your boy lose it.”
He thrust into her, the tops of his thighs smacking the back of hers and his fingers worked her clit with the skill of a man who knew exactly what she needed. Johan’s eyes went foggy and she knew hers had to look the same. She watched his tan fist slide along his erection, a beautifully carnal site, but it only made her imagine what Wyatt’s thick cock looked like right now, wet and shiny with her juices, plunging and disappearing inside her as he claimed her, her body open and desperate for him. Pleasure sizzled through her like sharp, electric shocks.
“Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. You’re so goddamned hot around me, love.” Wyatt’s fingers branded her hipbone as his opposite hand rubbed along the sides of her clit, lighting her up and obliterating any remaining control. She exploded with a sharp cry that carried over the water and pushed her over the edge. Her wrists yanked at the chains as the waves of orgasm slammed into her, making her body writhe against Wyatt’s tight hold on her.
Then dual male groans overtook her noises, both Wyatt and Johan going over at the same time. Wyatt’s cock swelled and pumped inside her, his body going tense against her, as she watched Johan’s eyes roll back and thick spurts of his release shoot over his belly and chest.
Ahhhh, God. That’s all she could think as another wave of her orgasm crashed over her.
Everything was so hot, so electric, so alive.
She was no angel or wide-eyed innocent. But somehow no matter how many wild, debauched nights she’d had in her life or how many drug highs she’d ridden, nothing compared to the pure, unencumbered pleasure she experienced being topped by this man.
He was better than heroin.
And more dangerous.
But right now she couldn’t find it in herself to care.