He parted me with his fingers, drew a tongue up my slit, and I mewled my joy that he was now finally consuming me. His tongue grew more aggressive with time, and teasing turned to blissful stimulation as he gorged on me like I was a ripe fruit, and he was a starving man. I pushed back into him, burying his face in me, the sounds of him eating me thick in the air around us, the smell of my arousal reaching even my nostrils.
He brought me to the edge expertly, then tormented me with his tongue by backing me off, and I bucked and moaned and gritted my teeth and begged him for more. But he never took me there, and I felt that desperate ball of energy within me growing larger. I felt so full of longing, nearly bursting at the seams. I wanted to cry out, beg him to finish me, beg him to usher me into oblivion, but he didn’t. He kept holding me back.
I lounged on the upper-most, sun-drenched deck of one of Javier’s many yachts. This one, named Annamarie, was his favorite. I
asked him where the name came from, and he shrugged and told me it was on the yacht when he bought it. He certainly wasn’t going to change the name. That would be bad luck.
I laughed. I’d never figured him as the superstitious type.
He approached me, climbing up a sloped ladder with wide rungs, while I lay languid, like a decadent cat, reading a book I’d found in the
sleeping cabin. His eyes, for a moment, went wide with horror, but then his well-practiced emotionless expression flashed back onto his face.
“What is this?” I asked. I turned the book over in my hand. Its glossy-paper front cover was all orange, and on it in bold black lettering was the word, Invictus.
“It’s Latin, for ‘unconquerable’,” he told me.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I meant, where’d the book come from? There’s no author.”
“You read much of it?” Javier settled down next to me, and pulled me possessively into his body, hand on the back of my neck.
“Just the first few pages.”
“It belonged to my great-grandfather,” he told me. “I don’t know where he got it.”
“It looks pristine.”
“He took care of it. So do I.”
“Oh,” I murmured, looking up at the sky. “Will the sun ruin it?”
Javier laughed. “Honestly, Maya, I have no idea.” He ran his fingers through his hair, and I couldn’t help my let my eyes travel to his smooth armpit. I liked that he shaved it. “Just don’t get it wet.”
“Where are we going, anyway?”
“There is a small island,” he told me, pointing out toward the horizon. I saw no land. “It belongs to me. On it, there is a season cave, and inside it, growing in the cracks of the rock is a phosphorescent alga. It is like a glowing spider web. It is amazing.”
I grinned as his accent came through most forcefully on the word ‘phosphorescent’. “Sounds beautiful.”
“It is. I haven’t been there in a long time.”
I put the book down on my lap. I felt a spark of jealousy. “When was the last time you did go?”
He sighed. “A long time ago. But I was alone. Do not worry.”
“I wasn’t worried,” I lied, but I was certain he saw through that as
well.
“And you?” he asked, holding me tighter against him. “Is there
anything you would like to do on your holiday?” “My holiday?’
“You are going to be staying with me for a while, are you not?” I nodded.
“Then it follows that since you will not be working, you will be on holiday.”
I laughed. “I guess so, yes.”
“So, is there anything you would like to do?”
Considering the question, I let my eyes wander out to the watery horizon, taking note of how flat it was despite the slight chop I could feel on the yacht.
“I…” My voice faltered. For the first time in over a week, I felt a little trepidation. Javier showed me many of his other toys and
contraptions, and I had found a great deal of pleasure and release in obeying him in the bedroom.
“Yes?”
“I wonder if there is more you can show me.” “More?”
“You know,” I said, sheepishly looking away, unable to hide the smirk on my face. “More about what you like.”
“How do you know what I have shown you is not all that I like?”
“To be honest, Javier,” I said with a sigh. “I get the feeling like I’ve only just dipped my toes in the water.”
He smiled, one of the few times he did. His face lit up, and he was at once more attractive, and less. A single dimple robbed the left side of his jaw of its uncompromising rigidity, and I struggled with the fact that he
straddled a line that polarized him. When his eyes were hard and imposing,
when his voice was deep and commanding, he aroused within me a great deal of desire. But when he smiled, laughed, or showed glimpses of levity, he made my mind turn to thoughts of… the future, and my place in it.
“Okay,” he said. “I will show you more. But you must know that you may not be ready for more.”
“Why?” I asked in a whisper. “It will involve pain.”
My mind went to thoughts of him spanking me. “I can take a bit of
pain.”
“You don’t understand,” he said, and he turned my face to his, and
kissed me quickly on the lips. His touch lingered. “If you want to test yourself, you will need to go toggle.”
“But what about you?” I asked. “What is your edge?”
“Truthfully,” he said, leaning back. “If you will trust me, I sense that we will find a good balance.”
I left the question hanging in the air for a moment, before nodding slowly. “I do trust you.”
“Good,” he said. “Because that is the most important thing. And it will be tested.”
“Okay.”
A silence came over us. Idly, I thought about Scarlett. I wondered if she had known all along just what kind of place Club Soria was.
I wondered, briefly, if she had taken me to that restaurant on purpose, and had set me up.
“Javier,” I said. “Remember what you told me last week?” “I do.”
I sighed and prepared myself to make my admission. “I think I might be falling in love with you, too.”
He let a few moments pass before replying. “I am not an easy man to be with. I am demanding. I have high standards.”
“Me, too,” I told him, nodding once. I might not have always had high standards, but I realized that now I did.
And I was willing to give this a try.
The End