That doesn' t mean game over,” he said with a devil' s grin. “If you get an opening and want to try taking it, go ahead. If you want a little fire in your action, you can fight right up to and through the fucking. It' s always about what you want, sweetheart. And whenever it' s not what you want, safe-out. Okay?” He' d answered my most basic question. His definition of using me any way he wanted included fucking. Fucking was his definition as far as I could tell. And, more important, the game wasn' t over until the fucking was done. I might be down, but I hadn' t lost yet.
“Okay,” I said.
He glanced over his shoulder. Flashlight beams cut through the darkness. “Then let' s get moving before we have company.” He bowed and waved me toward the boat.
“After you.”
I moved ahead of him and the leash lengthened, but the band around my throat compressed.
“Easy,” he cautioned. “The leash gets uncomfortable the farther from me you go.” The compression eased when I stepped closer to him. He held the boat steady with one hand and offered the other to help me down from the dock. I stayed on my feet until he joined me, tilting the boat and toppling me into his lap with a move that suggested it was planned rather than fortuitous. He produced a jacket from the back of the boat to drape over me like a blanket. The boat lurched forward when the motor roared to life, sending up a plume of spray that made me appreciate the thoughtfulness behind the jacket.
Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to be under the total control of a sexy man? To be owned? To be a slave to his desire? I have. I' ve contemplated whether it would be as hot as it sounds.
It was and it wasn' t. My hormones were all over the idea. I was wet, hot, so ready for him I was shaking. But there was this nagging voice at the back of my mind that kept insisting I' d lost my mind. I shouldn' t want him. I suspected the voice was right. I shouldn' t need this, crave it. Problem was, I did.
The whine of the boat motor dropped an octave, to a steady chug. The wind and spray eased to misty breeze. “Relax,” he said, his breath warm, a soft tickle against my ear. “Enjoy the moment. Deal with what' s coming when it gets here.” I decided to listen to him rather than the voice in my head.
The backs of my thighs rode the tops of his. I could feel his heat, the scrape of denim against bare skin where my skirt rode up. His right hand slipped under my skirt.
Rested against my thigh while his thumb grazed moist lips.
Ahead black cliffs loomed and the boat stayed on a straight course between them.
We passed through to a brighter region of emerald cliffs and blue water. “It' s so beautiful here,” I said, surprised any part of this post-apocalyptic world could be so.
“When I first looked into those deep-green eyes of yours, I thought of these cliffs here in the wasteland. It' s beautiful, but a frozen beauty, nothing grows here. Not even love.”
Was that a warning? Not one I needed, but I kept that to myself and changed the subject.
“How did you know I was in the container?”
“I followed you down right after you slipped through the hatch. Only I didn' t make any noise and I wasn' t afraid to jump off the end.” I let my head rest against his shoulder, angled it to study him.
He lowered his head, lips brushing mine, his tongue parting them as his thumb parted more sensitive lips below. I whimpered into his mouth when his thumb flicked over my clit. Two more fingers slipped inside me. I squirmed, which only forced them deeper.
“You' re hot,” he said. “Scalding hot.” His fingers found the sweet spot, circling with exquisite pressure inside. My breath went ragged. Stopped when he stopped.
Resumed when he did. That simply he' d taken control of me and the life force of my breath. I tried to ignore his fingers, ignore my need, but my breath followed the pleasure his fingers delivered or withheld. He owned me right down to the air I breathed until he decided to break the connection.
When his hand withdrew all the way, I wanted to drag it back, push it even deeper.
With a quick snap of his wrist, the leash around my neck broke away, coiled around his wrist like a snake called home.
I expected relief when the cord fell away. I was hit with a sense of loss. This was it?
He' d decided to throw me back so soon.
“We' ll be alone here, no need to keep you tied.” Something like relief fluttered in my stomach. He did mean to keep me. Before I could digest that reaction, he pointed to the cliff' s edge where an eagle launched, swooping low over the water just in front of us and then veering off to flap lazily above an island that hovered in a veil of lavender mists. Behind that the sun rose, casting long fingers of shadow and light. I didn' t have to ask to know the island was our destination and the leaning shape of a black stone house was where he meant to have me. I shivered.
“You' re cold,” he said, holding me tighter.
The bird settled in the blackened branches of a dead tree near a dock. I tried to think up something to say. I had come expecting a fight in an alley, one he might win in the end, but I hadn' t come prepared for his need to make some sort of connection. I hadn' t come expecting boat rides and beauty to emerge from the bleakness of the Quarterz.
“I' m just nervous. My first abduction.”
The bird settled in the blackened branches of a dead tree near a dock.
He bent his head, slid his fingers in my hair, gripping tight and turning my head, tipping it back to steal a kiss. Our lips met and lust rose like a drug to chase away anxiety. I could tell from the slight maneuvering, from the way he kept one eye on the water, that he was guiding us into the dock and wasn' t surprised when a bump against the shore announced our arrival.
He didn' t let the kiss end there and the hand that I' d been wanting to drag under my skirt found its way back.
“Mmm…” The sound was a low rumble in his chest as his fingertip slid along the cleft of my pussy, parted lips plump with desire and sticky wet. His finger burrowed into my heat. I arched in his arms, adding my own moan to his.
He pulled back, but still held me cradled against his chest. I looked up into his eyes, now as dark and deep as the midnight-blue waters around us. Whatever thoughts plagued him were shaken off with a toss of his head.
“Out you go then.” He was helping me up to the dock when the boat lurched. I missed my footing and hit the water in a graceless splat.
With a laugh he leapt out behind me. Of course he was graceful, looking dashing and gallant when he landed on both feet, knee-deep. He looked like an old-time pirate, wind whipping his dark hair. He wore black jeans and boots that reached his knees.
When he stood above me, legs planted wide, hands on his hips, I wanted him enough to strip off my clothes and have him right there in the shallows of the riverside.
His eyes had a wicked gleam that made me welcome the cold slap of water against my skin.
“Now we' ll have to get you out of those clothes,” he said. “Dry you out by the fire.” He offered me a hand and I took it.
“You did that on purpose.”
“Guilty.” He pulled me to my feet, scooped me up in his arms and carried me toward the stone house. The wind was stronger here, whipping my hair across my face and his. I pushed my tangled locks away from his eyes.
He chuckled. “It' s always nice to snatch up such considerate prey.” I couldn' t help a smile and he stopped, just stood staring at me until I realized the smile must be the reason and dropped my gaze, turning away from those searching eyes. I didn' t come here to find romance. Men didn' t come here for romance either. It was time to get back to the business of making him work for what he wanted.
Inside, timbers creaked and stone walls seemed to shudder against the onslaught of the wind howling like a demon outside. My abductor deposited me on my feet in front of the hearth.
“Get the wet things off,” he said. He lit an oil lamp and set it on the mantel. The light barely penetrated the darkness of the shuttered house. Lighting a fire was his next task.
I wasn' t going to take off my clothes. I hadn' t budged from where he' d dropped me. I was hugging myself, peering at the darkness that felt as if it must have a million eyes in it. The fire cast a weak circle of light that extended no farther than the fur rug I stood on. His back was to me and the door only a few feet away. I inched
