OnLocation (3 page)

I wonder if he’s thinking of me. Maybe he’s pumping his
cock with his hand.
Part of her dismissed that as unlikely. Even if he was
jerking off, he was probably thinking of some ideal beauty. But she dismissed
that. This was her fantasy, and in her fantasy he was thinking about her.
Thinking about coming in her, or on her. If he had his cock in his fist, on
might make more sense. She didn’t know why she wanted that, but she did. Wanted
to see his pleasure, see him spurt hot cum, and if she needed to be the target
she’d be happy to take one for the team.

She hadn’t intended to do anything with the other things on
her bed, but she squeezed the vibrator to keep it in her pussy and grabbed the
flogger. It was awkward, but she flicked it in the direction of her breasts and
was disappointed when it felt more like she’d dropped a pile of clothes on her
chest than the sting she’d imagined. She switched the flogger to her right hand
and held the massager to her clit with her left. She tried again to flick the
flogger and it hurt. That was more like it. It had to be more intense if
someone else was doing it. The angle would be less awkward, and she didn’t want
it to be all under her control.

She flicked it toward herself again, imagining it was Kyle
who held it, and she came as the vibrations inside and outside of her pussy
overcame her. The strength and suddenness of it surprised her. She wasn’t sure
if it was the implements or the fantasy, but she made a mental note to pick up
a big massager when she got home. She slipped the vibe out of her pussy and
turned it off.

She didn’t feel like getting up to clean it, although she
tried to make it a habit. She set the massager aside and turned it off as well.
Lazily, she drew the tails of the flogger across her stomach and her breasts,
caressing them. She closed her eyes to focus on the sensation.

* * * * *

Kyle grunted as his cock pulsed in his fist. That woman had
gotten to him in a way he hadn’t expected. Maybe it was that he’d been alone
for weeks and she was the first woman he’d seen for a while, but the same was
often true when the girls got off the plane for a couple of weeks of
submission, and those girls he knew wanted what he had to offer. He never
jerked off thinking about any of them. And definitely not twice. He’d come last
night thinking about having Teresa suck his cock. He was about to come again
this morning, imagining slamming into her pussy even though he’d never seen it.
Fuck.

An image flashed of what her face might look like contorted
by orgasm and he had to move his left hand to catch as he shot his load. He
stood there in his room, pumping his cock with his hand. He hadn’t masturbated
twice in twenty-four hours since he was a teenager. Hopefully the sexual
tension he felt would ease now and he’d be calm, cool and collected. He went to
the bathroom to wash up. He needed to shave, anyway.

There is no way I’m letting Roger touch her.
The
thought surprised him. His logic the evening before had been sound. Roger was a
much better introductory top. He was more patient. He was a better mind reader.
He enjoyed playing soft and slow—in fact, Roger liked the psychological side of
Dominance and submission far more than the physical. There had never been any
jealousy between them—they wanted different kinds of women and they had always
managed to sort it out. If a woman wanted some pain, she was sent to Kyle. If
she simply wanted to submit, then Roger or Carter or Tom would have her. It had
always worked before. But he knew now that if Roger and Teresa started
screwing, he wouldn’t want to be on the same island with them.

So much for calm, cool and collected.

He finished scraping a razor across his face and pulled on
swim trunks. He went downstairs and grabbed some breakfast. The Americans
weren’t up yet, which was fine with him. He had his bacon and eggs in peace and
went out to the pool. He wanted to clean the area around it before the sun got
too bright, take a swim, then work on sweeping the deck out front where it was
shaded before noon.

He used a pressure washer to clean the tile and concrete
around the swimming pool, and had finished when he heard footsteps behind him.
They were too light to be Gallagher. He didn’t have to turn around to know who
it was.

“You know, it’s all horribly sexist, when you think about
it,” she said.

He turned anyway, because he wanted to look. She was wearing
jeans and a tight brown shirt with a deep V-neck that would have revealed a
healthy amount of cleavage had she not been wearing a cream-colored chemise
under it. Even so, there was a hint. “Good morning to you too.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m guessing your referring to the fact that I won’t have a
relationship with a woman that isn’t willing to follow orders?”

She frowned. “I was referring to the fact that you won’t do
anything with
me
unless I’m willing to follow orders, yes, but now that
you’ve extended it to women in general, you’ve sharpened my point.”

He wasn’t worried about sharpening her point. What he
noticed was the way she reacted to the idea of him with another woman.
I
guess I’m not the only one with issues. Fine.
He smiled. “You know, if I
had a daughter I’d want her to be able to be anything she wanted. We’ve got a
woman prime minister, and I don’t always agree with her but I’m fine with that.
I have a sister who is a barrister in Melbourne and another who is a doctor in
Sydney, and no one is going to tell me they aren’t as capable because they
aren’t men.”

“Some of your best friends are women,” she mocked.

“No. None of my best friends are women.”

That left her speechless, at least for a moment. He savored
it, waited until she started to open her mouth, and dove in. “I’m a man and I
know what I like. A woman who is willing to be used for my pleasure. Who wants
to suffer for my entertainment, if it comes to that. Takes a spanking with
grace if she disobeys. And who accepts that I will decide when and how she gets
to come.”

“Or what?”

“I leave you alone to do your job. Which, by the way, I
assume you’re competent at, and undoubtedly do a hell of a lot better than I
do. Because I couldn’t imagine a trireme docking on this island if my life
depended on it. It’s absurd.”

“I think the idea is to use a penteconter, actually. One row
of oars. Biremes and triremes came later than the Trojan War, which is our way
of placing Odysseus in historical time.”

“Now how can a girl like you wrap her head around all that
stuff?” asked Kyle, although he knew better.

Her fists clenched. “You are the most infuriating man I’ve
ever met.”

“Good. I don’t accept being second rate at anything I do.
I’m going to have a swim. Want to join me?”

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit. I’d heard about the jellyfish,
and didn’t know there’d be a pool.”

He grinned. “That’s your only reason?”

She nodded.

“Not a problem,” he said. He took a step toward her. The
chemise was on the outside of her jeans and extended lower than her shirt. It
was easy to get the bottom of both of them in his hands at once. He moved
without hurry—he didn’t want her to think he was hesitating, but he wanted her
to have a moment to object if she wanted to. She was thinking about it, he
could tell, but she knew what he was going to do too. Good enough. He lifted
both up and over her head and tossed them to the side. She wore a lacy bra
underneath, the same creamy color as the chemise. It was transparent where her
nipples poked into it.

She didn’t say anything. Which meant she didn’t say no.
“Your safe word is pineapple. You understand?”

“Yes.” Her chest rose and fell with her breath, which seemed
frantic. He was used to women reacting that way when he pulled out a cane, but not
from having their tops off. He’d expected the bra to be fairly decent. He
wasn’t exactly disappointed to find out that it wasn’t, and besides, he liked
that reaction.

“Did you drink any whiskey last night?”

She shook her head. “Why?”

“Because someone raided the liquor cabinet, and if it wasn’t
you then that someone is probably going to be sleeping in and waking up with a
headache.”

“Oh.”

He reached down and pulled on the zipper of her jeans. He
wasn’t a big fan of women in pants, and double that for loose jeans like the
ones she wore. Sexist again, he supposed, as he found loose jeans quite
comfortable himself. Their one good feature on women was that they came off
easier than tight ones, and he took advantage of that. When he got to her
boots, he picked her up and put her over his shoulder. She shrieked.

What she was yelling didn’t sound like pineapple, so he
pulled her boots off and then took the jeans off the rest of the way. He
carried her toward the pool.

“Don’t dump me in, please!”

“You have your safe word. All you have to do is say it and
I’ll set you down. You can get your clothes back on and go about your life. You
can swim, can’t you?”

“Yes.” Teresa looked at the water then back at him. She was
thinking about it, he could tell.

It would be a shame to have things end here.
And
anyway, he had a better idea. He set her down on the tile at the edge of the
pool. “Honey, I’m happy to get your knickers wet, but not like that.”

She blushed. And looked down. Was she aroused and wondering
if it was showing? He reached behind her back and undid the back hook of her
bra.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure your undies don’t get wet.” He paused.
“Wetter.”

“You have a lot of nerve.”

“Yep. Always have.” He tossed the bra on one of the beach
chairs, and then pulled her underpants down, bending at the knees. He inhaled
her scent. Her arousal was unmistakable. He had been sure she would have
contradicted him if he’d been wrong anyway. The thatch of hair over her pussy
was proof enough that auburn hair wasn’t from a bottle, although he’d never
cared much about that one way or the other.

“What if he wakes up?”

“Stay under the water, next to the edge, and I’ll chase him
away.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that her body was
beautiful, because it was, and didn’t need to be hidden. If there was a god, he
hadn’t created bodies like hers, with her lush breasts and her wide hips, to be
covered up all the time. But that was fine for when you knew all the people
around you were safe and approving, and not so much so, he supposed, when you
were trying to fend off someone’s unwelcome advances. He’d protect her from
Gallagher if she needed protecting.

“Please don’t toss me in,” she said.

“I won’t.”

“You’re still wearing your shorts.”

“Yep. We wouldn’t want to be sexist about it.”

She blinked. “How is that not sexist, for you to be wearing
clothes when I’m not?”

“Well, I took yours off. You’ll have to do the same.”

She reached for him. He jumped into the pool, splashing her.
He’d let her succeed, but she’d have to work for it some.

Terry stood there at the edge of the pool for a moment and
watched Kyle swim away from her with long, easy strokes that covered the
territory quickly, his lean body glistening in the sunlight. She wasn’t going
to catch him if he didn’t want her to, she knew that. And he was right. Short
of putting her clothes on, getting in the water was the best protection for her
modesty that she had. She knew from experience that if she dangled a foot in,
she’d never manage to get there. The best way to acclimatize was all at once.
Maybe she shouldn’t have asked him not to throw her in. She hadn’t expected him
to acquiesce, actually—she figured he’d toss her in all the faster. She jumped.

The water, she supposed, could have been worse. At least it
was nice and clean against her skin, although it felt funny to be naked in it.
She swam in his direction. He’d already reached the other end of the pool,
which was slightly curved, and was standing in the shallow end, waiting for her.
She suspected he would move out of the way as soon as she got there, so she
didn’t hurry. Some of the stuff he had talked about, the floggers and such, she
was curious about and thought she could deal with. Even the ropes, despite her
objection. But she had a mortal dread of being made to look foolish.

To her surprise, he didn’t move. She stood up on the bottom,
wading the last couple of steps toward him, feeling that sense of awkwardness
she always felt when walking through water. So much less elegant than swimming.
Her breasts surfaced as she got to him.

Now that she was there, she hesitated.
What the hell.
She grabbed his shorts and yanked downward. She had to bend to push them down
farther, careful to keep her head above water.

He grabbed her and, to her surprise, kissed her. She didn’t
know why it was such a shock, but he didn’t strike her as the sort of man who
kissed. Or hugged. Although his kiss was anything but gentle. It bruised her
lips and his tongue invaded her mouth. He held her tight, not letting her break
away. Not that she wanted to. She would happily have kissed him until she
passed out from lack of breath. He knew the right way to move his tongue and
his chest felt good against hers. His hand on the back of her head was nice
too, a reminder he was in control.

He let her go and she felt lightheaded.

“You’ve got a sweet mouth,” he said.

“You’re a pretty good kisser.” It was an understatement, but
his ego seemed healthy enough without help.

He grabbed her by the ass and pulled her close and
temporarily off balance. She wrapped her arms around him for stability. She
could feel his hard cock against her stomach. Between the cool water and his
presence her nipples had tightened, and the wiry hair of his chest tickled
them. The only way they could be closer was if he was inside her, and that was
a very attractive proposition. Her pussy tingled at the thought.

Then he let her go and swam off. She swam after him. He hit
the other end first and did a jackknife turn to head the other way. She
splashed him when he surfaced. He laughed and splashed back. She dove under and
swam away and he chased her. She managed to slip out of his grasp a couple of
times. A small victory, but a satisfying one, although she wouldn’t have mind
losing either. His hands felt good on her, and only the slipperiness created by
the water gave her any chance with him. Also, she suspected he wasn’t trying
his hardest.

He caught up with her again in the shallow end and pulled
her into his arms for another kiss. This time she couldn’t get away. She
struggled for form’s sake, but it didn’t do her any good. He was too strong,
his grip too sure.

He lifted her and she thought for a moment he was going to
fuck her right then and there, but he didn’t. His cock slipped between her
thighs and the head of it nestled against the crease of her ass. She wrapped
her legs around him, aware for a moment that even though they weren’t having
sex, it probably looked like they were. The thought of what it looked like made
her think of Gallagher, and she must have made a face, because he asked,
“What’s wrong?”

“Just the sense that we aren’t alone.”

He nodded. “I could carry you upstairs.”

“Like this?”

“Sure.”

She knew she wasn’t a particularly light woman, and wondered
if his confidence would change once the water wasn’t helping hold her up. She
wanted to see him do it. What were the odds, if Gallagher wasn’t up already,
that they would encounter him on the way? Small, she knew, but still. “What if
we run into him?”

“I’ll explain that you hurt yourself and can’t walk,” he
said with a straight face.

“Uh-huh.”

He was already walking up the steps that led out of the
pool, lifting her out of the water. If it made a difference to him that she
wasn’t floating anymore, he showed no signs other than his muscles tensing
more. She ran her hands over his upper arms, feeling the creases between
muscles. He had looked good clothed. Naked, he was perfect, something a
sculptor would make rather than any man found in nature. She still hadn’t
gotten a good sight of his cock, but it felt substantial between her legs.

“You have condoms?” she asked, one anxiety trading itself
for another.

“Of course.” He set her down on the cement.
Maybe I am
too heavy for him after all.
She sighed.

He opened the lid of a large plastic box that looked like it
could be a cooler. But it wasn’t full of beer, it was full of towels. He got
out just one, and not a very large one at that. He wrapped it around her braid
and squeezed. The towel couldn’t hold all the water, and she heard it squirting
onto the tile. She looked at him, confused. He hadn’t been exactly tender so
far and the gesture touched her. Would he dry the rest of her?

But with her braid finished, he tossed the towel over the
deck chair and scooped her up again.

“What about my body?”

He grinned. “It’s a very nice body.”

“Shouldn’t we dry off?”

“Inside. I like you wet.” His eyes glittered. “In more ways
than one.”

He rubbed his feet on the mat in front of the door rather
thoroughly, for all the good it did. Terry was conscious of the fact that she
was still dripping. It didn’t seem to bother him at all to walk around naked,
carrying a drenched woman in his arms. Maybe he did this sort of thing all the
time.

He carried her up the stairs without any distress evident in
his breath, although she could see his muscles straining. To her relief,
Gallagher didn’t show. She was surprised when Kyle opened her door rather than
his own.

“I’m going to get the bed wet,” she said. It hadn’t topped
the list of her concerns, and she felt bad for the fact she’d been perfectly
willing to lie down in whatever state on
his
bed. She wanted him to get
protection on and get inside her as soon as possible. The rest of her body
might be wet from the pool, but her pussy was wet from quite a different
source. His cock had stayed rock hard the whole way up the stairs, and with
every step it jiggled against her.

“There’s towels in the bathroom.” He set her down a moment
before she had been sure he was going to drop her on the bed. “Go get dry, and
bring me one too.”

She hurried to the bathroom, found two towels and brought
them back. “Why are we here rather than in your bedroom?”

He opened the toy drawer and fished out a couple of condom
wrappers, holding them up as if that answered her question. Then he tossed them
onto the bed. She had a hard time paying attention. His cock was jutting out
toward her and it was magnificent, long and thick and as straight as a ruler.
She reached out her hand to touch it and then pulled back, not sure what the
rules were.

He took one of the towels from her and rubbed himself
briskly and efficiently with it. He looked over her body with naked desire. She
set about drying herself, feeling self-conscious about what she bared and what
she covered. She wasn’t quite done when he grabbed the towel and ripped it from
her grasp. He tossed it into the bathroom with his own. “Enough,” he said.

She looked into his eyes, ready to argue, and thought better
of it.

“I’m no teacher, and you’re a novice,” he said.

She nodded.

“But we’ll make the best of it.”

“Where do you want me?” She wondered if an experienced
submissive would know without asking. What did he expect from a woman? Could
she measure up?

He sat down on the bed. “Where I put you.” He grabbed her
and pulled her over his lap, and she found herself with her head almost
touching the floor and her ass in the air. She put her hands on the floor,
palms down for balance. Suddenly he administered a loud, stinging slap. She was
aware of the sound first, then the pain blossomed on her bottom.

“What was that for?”

He spanked her again. “Lesson one. In the bedroom, or at any
time we’re not in front of that cameraman, you’re to address me as Sir. If you
don’t, you will be spanked. It will hurt. There will not be a warm-up or a
warning.”

“But I didn’t know!” she cried. It didn’t seem at all fair
to her to punish her for breaking rules she hadn’t been told.

“You do now.” He spanked her again.

She could feel her pussy warming at the blow, even as the
pain spread over her bottom.
Traitor.
It still didn’t seem fair. “But I
didn’t then! Sir!” She turned her head in time to see his hand cock back so she
had a little warning. “Sir!” she cried again, just in case.

“Better.” His hand still landed, but it was soft, and he
caressed her still stinging backside with almost loving affection.

“It doesn’t seem fair, Sir.”

He rubbed her bottom in big circles, and she wasn’t sure if
he was making the sting feel better or worse. Both, perhaps. “It isn’t,” he
said. “It won’t be. If I want to spank you for no reason at all, I will.
Including for arguing about fairness. You have a safe word. Otherwise, your ass
is mine.” He gave it a squeeze.

Her face felt hot. She hoped he couldn’t see it very well
from where he was. She wondered what was redder, her face or her butt. “Yes
Sir,” she said, because he seemed to be waiting for a response.

“Your pussy is also mine.” He pushed her legs apart and
entered her with two rough fingers. She gave no resistance. She couldn’t deny
her desire to him because he could feel it. She moaned as he thrust his fingers
inside her, curling them to rub against her G-spot. She hadn’t expected that.
She’d expected to be used for his pleasure, perhaps. Given some pain. Taken
roughly with enthusiasm, if not much skill. But clearly he’d taken some time to
learn how to pleasure a woman. His other hand ran over her back and her thighs,
making her feel warm all over. He knew how to touch her—not so soft it tickled
and not too rough either—and all of her body seemed to be of interest to his
questing fingers.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on his fingers. The
pressure grew in her core with each stroke. He slid his slick fingers out to rub
her clit for a moment, then thrust them back in. It was enough to drive her
crazy. It was enough to make her come if he kept it up. She didn’t think she
was that easy to get off and she pushed away the thought that maybe it was
being spanked that made her so ready.

Her body started to tense up. She was ready to explode. It
was humiliating, being so easy. Coming in this position. Did he know what he
was about to do to her, how close he had her?

He pulled his fingers out suddenly and she moaned in frustration.
He lifted her off his lap and lay down with her stretched out on the bed. His
hands roamed over her body, tracing the lines of her arms, her neck, her
breasts and her stomach, as if he was memorizing every curve and bump. “I was
about to come!” she complained. She knew she was whining, but she was so close.

“You were,” he said and pulled her on top of him suddenly.
It felt odd to be on top when
he
was supposed to be in control. It
wasn’t until his hand came smacking down on her ass that she realized why he’d
done it.

“Sir! Sir! Sir!”

“Better.”

“I was about to come, Sir.”

“Not without permission.”

“Do you have to ask permission, Sir?” She knew she shouldn’t
ask and she flinched in expectation of the swat to follow.

“Never. But I do need a condom.” He nodded to where they
sat. “Roll one on me and I’ll fuck you hard.”

She didn’t need any further encouragement. She ripped open
the foil and pulled out the condom, then grabbed his cock with her left hand.
It felt like an iron bar, but it was warm and pulsing. She stroked it slowly
rather than putting the sheath on right away because her instinct was to tease,
but she realized she was only delaying her own gratification. She put the
condom to his tip and rolled it down, giving his shaft a gentle squeeze when she
was done.

“Good.” She expected him to push her down and mount her, but
he had other plans. He grabbed some rope from the still open toy drawer and
grabbed her wrists, pulling them up above her head. She struggled. She
remembered he had rejected her objection to ropes, but she still assumed he’d
steer away from them. But in seconds her wrists were tied together, and from
there to the head of the bed.

“You said you’d fuck me,” she said.

He glowered.

“Sir,” she added, although he’d tied her so she was facing
up and it would have been awkward but not impossible to flip her over for a
spanking. The rope would twist.

“I didn’t say right away. You’re not as aroused as you could
be.”

If she were any more aroused, she thought she’d scream.
She’d been ready to pop a minute ago and she wasn’t far off now. “You’re very
aroused, Sir.”

“Yes, I’d like nothing better than to sink my cock into your
nice hot wet pussy right now, but when I do I want you to come like there’s no
tomorrow.”