Under the Covers (16 page)

"On the bed, on your knees," he said, closing and locking the door behind him.

There wasn't any sense in arguing. His gift was doing what she supposed it was meant to do—drive her insane with need. She slipped out of the sandals that came with her costume and crawled on her knees to the middle of the bed. She spread her knees apart to keep from falling over and the jewels swung free between her legs.

"Christ, almighty." Bree heard something click behind her and turned her head to look. Drew came closer, holding out a cell phone for her to see. "This is what I see."

Bree forgot to breathe. It was one thing to see erotic photos of someone else, but she wasn't prepared for the rush of heat that went through her when she saw the photo of herself. Six thin gold chains hung below the hem of her skirt, and dangling on the end of each one was a single teardrop jewel.

 "This skirt is perfect to show off the jewels, but you've got to see how you look without the skirt."

Drew tossed the phone on the bed, hiked her skirt over her ass and tucked it into its own band. Bree clenched her pelvic muscles in an attempt to keep her need under control. Much more of this and she'd come before Drew even touched her. "Unclench, honey." She did her best to comply. "That's better." Another click and Drew stood beside the bed again, staring at the photo he'd just taken of her naked ass. "No words." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "I have no words."

"Let me see." She hardly recognized her own voice, hoarse with desire. She couldn't remember ever being this turned on before. Drew swung the phone in her direction. A shudder rippled through her, and her skin flamed. He'd shifted the angle of the photo so the jewels appeared against the backdrop of her bare thigh, like drops of shiny candy, red, blue, green, amber, pink and white. If they were real, and she suspected they were, he'd spent a small fortune on them. "Drew…."

"I know, darlin'."

He laid the phone on the nightstand and popped the buttons on his shirt. His shorts followed the shirt and utility belt to the floor. His cock rose proud and ready. Bree closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. Begging was so damned undignified. She wouldn't do it. Not that there was any chance Drew wasn't going to fuck her. Not with a hard-on like that one.

The mattress dipped as he positioned himself behind her. His hands covered her ass cheeks and swept down to the tops of her thigh-high stockings, then back again. One arm snaked around her waist and he bent her forward with the other. "Face down, with your ass up, darlin'."

Her cheek met the cool fabric of the comforter and she stifled the groan that rose in her throat. With her wrists cuffed at her back, her body open to his gaze, and his hands, she'd never felt more vulnerable, or desperate.

Hot hands swept over her ass, reverently stroking, building a flame in her only Drew could put out. He parted her with his thumbs, held her open for what felt like a lifetime before releasing her. If he didn't fill her soon she was going to die. Her pussy ached. Finally, Drew rose to his knees and pressed his groin against her ass. His cock slid between her thighs. Close, but not close enough. She whimpered.

"Soon, darlin'. Let me get suited up." Foil ripped and she knew he was protecting them both. The chains tugged at her ass, setting up an unfamiliar but insistent need for him to touch her there too. "Can you feel that? The chains are wrapped around my cock."

God yes, she could feel it, and it was fucking driving her crazy.

"They're long enough to wrap around the base." Another tug. "There. I'm going to fuck you with the chains wrapped around me."

Anything. He could do anything, as long as he put his cock in her. Now. Her mind screamed the command, but she bit her lip to keep from actually begging him. Then he was there, pushing into her and tugging on the invader in her ass at the same time. She almost wished he had the cell phone so she could see how they looked together, but she didn't need to see. She could feel. Every time he pulled out of her, the chains grew tight and tugged at her ass, then the pressure eased as he slid back in, creating a new pressure deeper inside her.

Drew's hand on her hip steadied her while another kept the chains snug around the base of his cock. Every push, every pull, shifted the pleasure from her ass to her pussy. Her orgasm coiled tight and low and refused to let her out of its grip. As if he knew her inner struggle, Drew let his hand slip to her belly. "Let it come, darlin'." He flicked a thumb over her swollen clit. "Just let it come."

Her body quaked with the power of her release. Drew kept a steady rhythm against her clit, but his cock paused, buried deep inside her. Bree burrowed her face in the comforter and let the soft fabric muffle Drew's name on her lips.

He supported her with an arm around her waist as she relaxed into a boneless heap following the most intense orgasm of her life. It took a moment to realize his cock was still hard inside her, and that he hadn't followed her with his own release.

"Easy now." He pulled out and sat back on his heels. She was too relaxed, and too sated to be embarrassed by her position, or what he might be looking at. "Now I'm going to have the rest of you." She jumped as Drew gave the chains a sharp tug, and the object in her ass popped out. Oh God! His thumbs stroked her cheeks apart and she instinctively clenched.

"No, don't, sweetheart." His big hands swept over the curve of her butt cheeks as if he caressed a priceless work of art. "You're beautiful. Relax and let me love you. All of you."

"Drew." Her protest was weak and sounded more like a breathless plea.

"Shh. It's all right." She relaxed under his competent hands. His voice dripped molasses. "No one has taken you here?"

"No." She'd never wanted anyone to, but even now, partially terrified, she knew she wanted Drew to take her, to possess this part of her.

"I won't hurt you." God, she knew that. He might be capable of any number of things in his profession, but he'd never hurt a woman, especially her. Unable to trust her voice, she nodded. "I'll do everything I can to make this easy for you." He reached for a tube of lube on the nightstand.

Heat flooded her face. Many things were taken for granted on the
Lothario
, and the need for lube was one of them. Every cabin had several tubes, plus each new guest was given a welcome basket filled with toys, books and other 'necessities'. Condoms were everywhere, even in baskets like sugar packets on the dining tables. She was only marginally grateful for the convenience now as Drew worked cold gel around and into her ass. It was really happening. She half heard his steady monologue, designed to soothe her jangled nerves. And then he rose over her and the pressure was almost too much to bear.

"Let me in, darlin'." He pressed harder, holding her firm against him with one arm wrapped around her waist. "I want to possess every part of you." Her heart seized, and her pelvic muscles gave way. She sucked in a sharp breath as Drew breeched her protective ring of muscles. "Mine." His hands went to her hips. "Say my name if you're okay."

"Drew." The single syllable came out on the last of the air in her lungs.

"God, I love to hear you say my name." His hold on her hips tightened, and he pressed his length in all the way to the hilt. "Say it again if you're all right."

"Drew. Oh God, Drew."

"I've got to move, darlin'. I can't wait any longer."

"Drew."

He withdrew and pushed back in. "You're so fucking tight." Out and back in, faster this time. "Mine. All fuckin' mine."

"Drew."

Bree gasped for breath as Drew pulled almost all the way out, then slammed back inside. His balls slapped against her clit, and her sated need rose up hot and demanding all over again. The skin at her hips burned where Drew clung to her. The fullness in her ass stole her will and turned her muscles to quivering, useless goo. As Drew filled her, declaring her his with each pounding thrust, helplessness stole over her. He didn't know how right he was. Her body and her heart were his. Irrevocably his.

****

He was fucking going to die. Right here. With his cock buried in Bree Stanton's ass. It wasn't enough that the woman had him by the balls, figuratively speaking. She had him by the heart too. And it was bulging like a water balloon squeezed in her tight little fist. It was going to burst at any moment.

He heard his name over the rush of blood past his ears, and knew his declaration of possession to be only half the truth. She'd laid claim to him as surely as he'd laid claim to her. Body and soul. There would never be another. He threw his head back and clenched his jaw against the impending explosion.

She gasped his name again. He opened his eyes, saw their reflection in the ceiling-mounted mirror, and lost what little sanity he had left. A lightning bolt struck him in the small of the back and sent a fireball to his groin, singed his balls and sliced through his cock. His cock surged and convulsed and spewed hot cum into the tip of the condom.

Curses rent the air as he rode out his last gasping, mortal moments. When his body ceased purging itself, he was surprised to find his heart still beating. He caressed Bree's sweet ass and removed himself as gently as he could. "Say my name if you're all right."

A heartbeat. Two. "Drew."

A lesser man would have cried at the sweet sound of his name on her lips after what he'd done to her. He eased her down and fumbled in the nightstand for the key to the handcuffs. As soon as she was free, her arms came around his neck and she plastered herself against him. She allowed him to undress her, then reattached herself to him as tight as a barnacle on the ship's hull. He stroked her back and absorbed the feel of her into his skin. Nothing had ever felt this right.

"Wear the jewels while I'm gone. I want to think about you wearing them."

"'kay."

Her body relaxed against his and he lay awake listening to her soft breathing and imprinting the feel of her body against his. It would have to be enough to keep him sane for the next few weeks.

****

Bree clawed her way up out of the deepest sleep she'd had in… well, forever. The bed was soft and warm, and her body felt renewed, and sore in all the right places. Memories of the previous night heated her skin. Drew. He'd possessed her. That was the only word for what he'd done to her. It had been so much more than fucking, or even making love. He'd claimed her, declared her to be his, and as embarrassing as that was with the morning light streaming through the balcony door, it had felt right at the time.

It had to be the oxytocin. That was the only explanation for the way she'd allowed him to do those things to her without a single protest.

She lifted her arms above her head and pointed her toes, feeling the delicious pull of waking muscles. It would be too easy to lay right where she was, in bed with Drew, for the entire day, and repeat everything. She smiled and rolled to her side, reaching for the solid man she'd spent a good deal of the night wrapped around. Her eyes flew open when her arm landed on cold sheets instead of hot male flesh.

Reality crashed in on her. The ever-constant hum of the ships engines was gone, and so was Drew. This was Sunday. Docking day in Miami. Bree glanced at the bedside clock and groaned. Drew would be long gone by now. They'd planned an early morning departure to avoid crowds and any media hype. And she'd planned to see them off, to assure them the ship would be in good hands while they were gone. And, she'd wanted to tell Drew… goodbye? Perhaps that wasn't the right word. Goodbye was so final, and she didn't really want their parting to be the end. But if she accomplished her mission in the next few weeks, that's exactly what it would be. She'd never see Drew again. She'd go her way, and he'd stay right where he was.

A lump formed in her throat, and she choked back tears. She swung her feet to the floor and sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, willing her weakness to go along with the carbon dioxide. This wouldn't do, this moping, wishful-thinking, poor-me attitude. She'd known all along it was going to end. She'd known, too, it was going to hurt like hell when it happened. That didn't make the ball of fire where her heart should be any less painful.

She made her way to the shower and stepped under the hot spray. She braced her hands against the wall and ducked her head under the nozzle. Water poured down her face, mixing with the gut-wrenching tears she could no longer hold at bay. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and sank to the floor. Water beat on her body and swirled around her.

Nothing could hurt this bad. During her FBI training, she'd imagined what it would feel like to be shot, but nothing she'd created in her mind equaled the pain of knowing she wouldn't see Drew again.

Bree stepped aboard the tender and made her way to the small gathering of crew around the captain's chair. This was the morning she'd anticipated for months. The one where she put her plan into action. Two weeks earlier, she'd received the go-ahead from her superior, but it had taken all that time to work out the logistics of her plan, and to find someone to bring aboard the
Lothario
to replace her.