Her tragic mistake.
Instead of releasing her to recover her clothes, I push off the rocky bottom of the lagoon I’m standing on and swim her toward my boat. She’s too stunned to do more than squeak out a cry of surprise.
If she was under the impression that I’m a gentleman, she’s about to learn the truth.
I reach the steps at the stern of my boat and struggle to drag her up and into the small cabin below. There isn’t much beyond a bar, bathroom and a large space where a wide bed is situated.
I toss her completely naked onto the bed, happy to be rid of her, if only for a moment. She’s smaller than me, but spirited. And fucking sexy, now that I have a better look at her.
I wait for her to scramble and cover herself with the sheets, even as I stand there fully naked with a half-erect dick.
She stares at it with a mixture of trepidation and…curiosity? Maybe she really is a nun.
Who swims naked?
“So English or Español?” I ask, once she seems somewhat settled.
She just stares at me for a moment, then brings one hand up to her lips and shakes her head, no.
I chuckle and shake my own head in disbelief. When I steady it to give her a hard stare I decide on a different tactic. “Okay, just nod then. English?”
She pauses, her gaze flickering. Just when I’m about to switch to Spanish, she shrugs and nods.
“Good, that’s progress. Now, what the fuck were you doing in my lagoon…Sister?”
She straightens up, looking defiant. I already know I’m not going to get an answer.
Sure enough, no answer is forthcoming.
I walk over to a locked drawer and use my thumbprint to open it. I pull out a pair of handcuffs. Along with a gun and other bits of “just in case” paraphernalia, I’m always prepared.
Her eyes go wide and she begins to scramble across the bed, taking the sheets with her. I take hold of one corner and whip it away, forcefully enough to rip it right out of her grip. While she sits there stunned at her sudden nudity, I grab hold of her ankle and drag her back toward me.
I reach out to wrest her hand away from covering herself so I can slap one of the cuffs on it, then attach the other end to the handhold near the bed.
Now the moans and mewls of protest come. So she’s definitely not mute. Which is something I can work with.
Because I plan on getting answers from her one way or another.
Chapter Five Leira
His eyes drag down my exposed body. I’m appalled to find that it sends a rush of excitement through me, a mixture of fear, adrenaline, and…pleasure.
The first two take a leading role and have me bringing my knees up to cover what my arm no longer can. As the cool air of the cabin licks across what lies between, I realize this puts it all perfectly on display.
He grins as I struggle to find a position that covers both my breasts and pussy. Just using that word makes me feel dirty, and not necessarily in a bad way.
Mother Agnes would be appalled.
Dad would be furious.
A wave of heated exhilaration takes over my body, even as I settle on a prim and proper position. My free arm is pressed across my chest to cover my breasts, and my legs are bent to the side. Once I’m comfortable that I’m showing him nothing, I boldly stare up at this man once again. If he thinks he’s getting anything from me, verbally or physically, he’s in for a fight.
This man with his hard, lean body and handsome face now frowning down at me with anger. This man with a penis that is still sticking straight up—like a weapon.
“What’s your name? Or do you prefer me continuing to call you, Sister?”
He has an accent, which means he’s probably Spanish. Now, I’m glad I settled on English. I’d rather have the upper hand when it comes to communication.
I stay quiet.
“Sister it is then,” he says with a sigh, running his fingers through his thick, dark hair, which is still wet. In fact, everything about him is still wet, water falling in drizzles across his firm pecs, rippling over his abs, sliding into that v-shaped crease that leads down to…
“Are you sure you’re a nun?”
My eyes flash up to find his sardonically dancing as he stares at me. I glare at him and turn away.
Why isn’t he getting dressed?
He settles on the bed and reaches out a hand to grab my chin and force it up so I’m facing him again.
“Give me at least a name, and I’ll go and get your clothes for you. I may even let you put them on.”
Instead of feeling relief, I feel dread. He gave me no option to let me go. He’s taking me with him.
He’s taking me with him!
I begin struggling against the handcuffs, trying to force my hand out even if only by sheer will.
“Stop! Basta!”
I’m no longer interested in anything he has to say. Why the hell did I allow him to put handcuffs on me? I mean, it wasn’t like I had much of a choice, just as I didn’t when he somehow dragged me on this damn boat. He’s just so much stronger than me.
I stop struggling when I realize, one, it’s hopeless and, two, he simply stares at me in amusement, also knowing it’s hopeless.
My only saving grace is that he obviously doesn’t know who I am. If he were part of the same group who kidnapped my sisters, then he wouldn’t have to ask.
No, this is just my own dumb, bad luck.
“Now that you’re settled, maybe we can start acting like adults, beginning with you dropping this nun act. I don’t care what the hell those clothes out there say.”
I know my best defense is once again, silence.
“I’m fine with you not giving me a name. But I do need to know
