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He steeled his composure, redoubled his focus. Now wasn’t the time for letting
her
drown
him
. There was only one way he was going to save this gift for which they’d both searched so hard and waited so long. Now was the time to plunge deep and pull out a Dominant inside him who hadn’t seen the light of day for a while, a creature who hadn’t gotten out a lot even during his years with Heather. There was a reason for that. This side of him really was a twisted Bluebeard. But if the occasion—and the submissive—called for his heavier hand of kink, then that’s what he’d bring to the damn party. Probably with a bit of pleasure.

“Still nothing to say to me?” He let the guy out slowly at first, letting him murmur the words while curving a possessive hand around her elbow. When he tightened his grip a little more, Rose dipped her head lower, an acknowledgment of his harsher command. He looked at her head, baffled. So brave, so strong when it came to giving him her body—but Fort Knox about exposing anything else. Why?

He wasn’t getting off this damn boat until he found out.

Without another word of preamble, he pulled her toward the shrouds. “All right. On the ropes, faceup. And spread yourself for me, arms and legs. The lines are secure and the angle isn’t steep; you won’t have trouble balancing.” He raised his brows at her wince of hesitation. “Is there an issue with my instructions, pet?”

She visibly trembled again at his last word. “You…you want me facing you?”

Mark cupped her cheek. “Oh yes, Rose. You’re going to face me. I’m going to watch you. I’m going to read you. If you won’t speak to me with your lips, you’ll speak to me with your body. I’m going to know every twitch, every reaction, every sensation you feel. I’m going to absorb it all.”

He let that sink into her psyche. It was erotic as hell to watch too, her features betraying her inner struggle between
Oh God yes, watch me please
and a catty version of
We’ll fucking see about that
. She was so damned enticing that he could’ve studied her for another hour—if he didn’t know what was coming next. That lent him the strength to pull his hand back, letting her hustle into position as he pivoted toward a nearby gear locker.

The box he opened was marked
Tackle and Hooks
, which could’ve still been the truth if that equipment was hiding under the bonanza of bondage and discipline gear on top. He grinned, remembering how proud Gervais was when showing him the box during the vessel tour this afternoon. Maybe it was a special request the man got more often than Mark assumed. Whatever the reason, he was damn delighted for the treasure trove. His inner Bluebeard backed that as he ran a hand along the items, double-checking a few favorites, yanking out some new selections. Rose’s unexpected obduracy forced him to tweak the plan for this evening’s entertainment. He had to anticipate a true fight from her now. He would really have to turn the punishment over to the pirate now.

He would have to keep thinking with the head atop his shoulders, no matter how hard the clamor got from the one between his thighs.

“Hell.”

He muttered that as soon as he turned back. His cock already challenged him on his resolution, reacting at once to the sight of his gorgeous, nude, spread-eagle submissive. She was a fantasy come to life. Her hair flowed to either side of her wide-eyed face. The silk of her skin contrasted with her coarse rope bed, and he already imagined the patterns that would form across her back, thighs, and ass. And ohhhh, how he planned to mark the front of her chest, arms, and thighs…

As his mind spun that thought into some amazing images of erotic art, his erection pounded at his zipper.
Control it. Control it. Think about the old days, maybe. A budget bill. A droning filibuster. Congressional minutes to review.

No dice. The torment got no better as he moved to her without a word, four lengths of red-dyed rope in his grip. He’d almost opted for the ease of spring cords, but this occasion called for a more primeval theme. She’d sealed that decision when she all but dared him to jam his hand down her throat and haul the words out of her. He moved with gruff concentration, deciding on easy buntline ties, rechecking the knots to make sure they were secure but not tight.

With every new knot he tied, he watched Rose’s reaction. This was going to be a different bondage experience for her. The sexy foreplay of last night wasn’t part of tonight’s roster. Nor was she going to get his kisses, his adoration, his seduction. She seemed to understand that, if he judged right from her lowered eyes and the serious set of her mouth. But he was resolved to doing much more than guessing at her mindset. He wanted inside her,
all
of her, and the communication of that goal started right now.

With that resolve coursing his veins, he cinched the last knots around her ankles. He watched her arms and thighs flex, testing the bonds. He hadn’t left much wiggle room, another silent sign to her, and one he expected resistance for. But she stunned him yet again, her body going lax against the ropes, her head lolling. Was the tight captivity
pleasant
for her? Christ…was his little Rose even more a natural submissive than he presumed?

The next moment brought his confirmation. Her eyes slid closed. Her breasts, while still sprouting the most erect nipples he’d ever seen, rose and fell on longer, deeper breaths. And her pussy…

Fuck.

He couldn’t hold back from dipping a finger into the moist curls at her center. For the first time since they’d boarded the boat, she gave a full-throated cry.

“Such a wet little cunt already,” he murmured, pressing his chest to hers as he rolled a thumb along her clit. “Once again, racing on without permission.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” Her voice dropped to a breathy gasp. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Of course you couldn’t, honey.” He trailed his way from her ear to her mouth using only the tip of his tongue, making her shake and sob again. “But now that we’ve established that your body yearns to be with me, it’s time we find out why your head keeps telling you otherwise. Well, more importantly…the bastard who’s been fucking with it.”

He punctuated that by withdrawing his fingers and palming her mound instead, clutching her with fierce possession.

“I’d ask if you’re ready, pet, but it doesn’t matter. Here we go, whether you like it or not.”

Chapter Sixteen

Damn.
Damn.

Rose battled to hang on to the sanity of the word, to the coherent thought it took to form it, even silently. What the hell had happened to her? Three minutes ago, she’d listened to the man talk with the arrogance of a Dom dentist, planning to hit her with some magical kink Novocain and extract what he needed out of her head. She’d almost laughed at him. She’d definitely scoffed. Not where he could see her do it of course, but it wasn’t like she didn’t know what he could do to her. Mark had taken her to sexual and spiritual heaven more times in the last twenty-four hours than she ever dreamed possible. She knew what he could do with restraints, with words, and with those incredible, knowing hands of his. But she could handle all of that now. Maybe he really didn’t know how adept she could be at turning off parts of herself at will—even when the On button was him.

But that was just the problem.

He…wasn’t himself anymore.

Apparently, the man had a different person stashed in that box he’d gone sifting through. This Mark had the same carved golden torso, wide warrior’s stance, and precise confidence of the lover she
thought
she knew—but one look at his face was a new illumination. His eyes burned with a strange new fire. His jaw was so taut it redefined the shape of his face. He’d transformed beyond her teacher, her lover, her Dominant. She seriously pondered the possibility that some merciless pirate had found its way up from the hold and taken possession of him.

She also wondered why the hell that turned her pussy into a floodgate.

And her mind into this wasteland.

She searched the blackness behind her eyelids, attempting to center herself again. Maybe if she just didn’t look at him…

“Open your eyes, pet.” The directive was pure granite, but it was backed by a velvety caress to her face. It wasn’t his hand, but something just as persuasive. “No drifting. Eyes right here, on your Master.”

Master
. She loved the sound of that, and yeah, he probably knew it. Attempting a steady breath, she complied. So much for the “steady” part of that. Her heartbeat went AWOL as she beheld him now, more pirate-like than ever now that twilight had fallen, stroking the leather falls of a sizable flogger. Okay, so it
seemed
sizable. She wasn’t in a position to compare as her few trips to Fallon’s favorite kink club had been more about watching what effects floggers had on a sub, rather than the instruments themselves. Those memories, joined with the preview Mark had given her of
this
flogger, had her brain and her body duking it out for possession of her composure.

“Shit!” It spilled without thought. Mark—or whoever he was now—barely reacted beyond a satisfied glow in his eyes. Was he enjoying this? These things inflicted pain! She remembered that much,
very
clearly. And she wasn’t—

“
Shit
!”

This time, the word popped out more from startlement. It coincided with the first stroke he inflicted, barely moving his wrist to lay the falls across her thighs. Her skin immediately warmed, then tingled. She took a deep breath, relaxing for a second. All right, that wasn’t so bad. A bit pleasant, even. But she also recognized that it was a beginner’s tap.

“No more words.” He emphasized that with a second
thwack
, this one backed by more muscle. Oh, this one stung, but Rose clenched back her retort, bolting a glare into him instead as he finished, “You’ll get to use words when I direct them from you. Understood?”

Just as she debated how to best narrow her eyes more, he dipped his last word into a seductive murmur, brushing her exposed labia with the leather strands. She squeezed her eyes shut, and the moan in her throat turned into a choke. “Y-yes, Sir.”

Smack.

He replaced the falls with his palm and not nearly with as much tenderness. Her eyes flew open. Had he just
spanked
her pussy? And, oh God, was her vagina drenching it with arousal in reaction?

“Very sweet and respectful, honey—but not the words I’m wanting to hear.”

He stepped closer, that wicked light in his eyes seeming to find something in hers, making his lips twist before he brought his palm down on her sex again. “We’ll get to the words, don’t you worry. Right now, you’ve agreed to accept a punishment for turning tail on your Master this morning. You’re going to feel a little of what it was like in my heart, to realize you didn’t trust me enough to stay and face me.”

“No!” It burst out before she could stop it, fueled by watching him move back and swing the flogger in more ferocious swoops. “It’s not you! I’ve trusted you with everything!”

He laughed, but it was more a snarl. “More words. More bullshit I don’t want to hear. Keep it up, Rose, and your welts will be blue as this ocean by the time we’re done.”

“But you need to understand. You need to—”

“
Silence
!”

His bellow came with a frightening
thwack
of the flogger to the deck near her feet. In the aftermath, she looked on as Mark heaved on his breaths, gritting his teeth, watching her now with feral appraisal. Rose shook violently, but her terror suddenly had nothing to do with what he was going to do with her. Shit.
Shit!
All his actions were a terrible revelation, showing her what she’d done to him, how deep the cut she’d truly inflicted by walking out that door this morning. She’d had no idea. She’d thought he’d call her a few choice things, have the bed changed, and then subject her to an emotional blackout for the rest of the week. She’d never thought he’d feel this…pain. Over her.

She’d never thought
anyone
would feel pain over her. Ever.

Her brain might as well have dropped a building on her heart. She raised her gaze, hoping Mark would look up even once and see that she knew now, that she
knew
, and she was so sorry for what she’d done to him. But through the first dozen blows, his focus seemed only on the body he disciplined. He said nothing else. The air was filled with his raging grunts, the ominous whirs of the falls, the hard
thwacks
on her skin, and her deep, resigned silence. Even as the blows got harder, Rose swallowed and held back her screams. The flogger’s bites were whispers of pain compared to the sorrow in her soul.

I’m sorry. Oh, Sir…so sorry.

He finally looked at her face. He did it only for a moment, after turning to shake his hair free of sweat. A flash of disbelief darkened his eyes before he whooshed the flogger high again.

Despite her resolve, that strike made her cry out. He’d been targeting the flesh of her thighs and arms and shocked her by throwing the blow across her breasts. The flesh there was already puckered and sensitive because of the wind; his strike filled them with sudden stings.

But then she got the real stunner. To compensate for the pain, she tried to twist her hips. The ropes didn’t let her move much, but it was enough that her pussy shifted, those wet lips kissing each other in more than a few places.

A flare of arousal seared up her body. Her outcry got quickly drowned by her hiss.

When she looked back to Mark, he was again a man transformed.

Raw power filled every angle of his face. His lips, slightly parted, twisted with ferocious victory. Cords stood out in his neck; veins were prominent in his chest and biceps.

For a long moment, she forgot about being sorry, stubborn, or anything except totally turned on.

He wielded the flogger on her again. Once more he aimed across her thighs. But this time he kept his stare on hers as he did. And this time his arm bunched hard with the effort.