twice before trying anything funny. And with any luck so will you.’ His eyes flare again. ‘And next time, wear your fucking wet suit. That’s what it’s for.’
‘Next time? Who says there’ll be a next time?’
For a second, shock shows in his eyes. I waver, but only for an instant. He was filming that – me in an open boat … what else might he film? Maybe he’s got cameras lined up everywhere. Maybe I’ve walked into some porno nightmare, where everything we do is going to be filmed, packaged up, marketed and sold …
I try to push past him. ‘Let me go.’
He bars my way, immovable as rock. ‘Ella. Please.’ He pushes me back against the wall. ‘There are things I have to tell you about this place. I should have told you before.’ His eyes glint as he glares down at me. ‘First off, that thing in the boat made perfect sense to me.’
I open my mouth to protest but he claps a hand over my mouth. ‘OK, OK, not to you. I get it. But you work with troubled people, Ella. I’d have thought you of all people would understand what I’m trying to do here.’
‘I do understand. And I want to help. But that was plain wrong.’
His eyes glimmer. ‘Was it? Why? Because I take you out in a boat and kiss you? We do it all the time. Other people do it all the time. And in public.’
‘Not for that.’ I break off, startled at the flicker of pain that crosses his face. I summon patience. ‘OK. So tell me why you think that’s acceptable. I’m new here.’
‘Me too, dammit.’ His eyes blaze. ‘That’s what I’m trying to say. We’re all new here.’ He runs his hand along my arm, his touch on my skin like a shimmer of electricity.
His eyelids lower. Like he senses my response, his voice lowers. ‘That’s what this place is all about. Thinking outside the box. I told you that before we came. You knew what to expect. And this is what it’s like. I’m trying out something new here. We’re all learning. Even me. You may see or hear weird things, odd behaviour. Our recruits come from all over. Some of them may be – unpredictable.’
He’s frowning, his touch on my arm magnetic. His hand moves gently on my skin, his fingers folding round my arm. ‘OK, that was a mistake. But I’m relying on you, Ella. Don’t give up on me yet. Be patient.’
And all at once he pulls me close and stops my mouth with his. His attack is so sudden, his tongue so disturbing, I react instantly. I kiss him back in a frenzy as he takes possession, forcing me back hard against the wall, his tongue angry and probing, his erection, hard and rampant, grinding into me.
When he releases my mouth I smile slowly, forgiving him fast. My fierce surge of arousal is a powerful persuader, but I take one last kick. ‘What’s this? Still making a claim? We’re not in the boat now.’
His grinds against me again, pressing painfully into my soft, swelling places, He sets up a steady, cynical rhythm with his hips, sending darts of fire shooting through me.
Oh, yes … almost there …
He rests his forehead against mine and lowers his voice to a velvety murmur. ‘I make statements in public. I take my pleasures in private.’ His breathing’s unsteady now, as his eyes burn into mine. ‘Open your legs.’
He pins my hands high up on the wall with one hand while he rearranges my jeans with the other, tearing at my zip and pushing roughly at my denim so he can reach into my thighs. His hand’s firm and hot, his intention plain.
Deep down inside me fury still simmers. All it does is make everything more vivid. I thrust towards him eagerly, desperate now after all the teasing.
But he pauses, his eyes troubled, like he needs permission. And all at once I get it: he is asking permission.
Something in his expression tells me he knows he’s gone too far. He sees his weird alpha-male thing in my boat has upset me. He’s sorry. And waiting for permission at a moment as raw and urgent as this is how he says so.
My heart melts. For a second I press my cheek against his in a kind of soft, unspoken act of consent.
With a sharp sigh of relief he surges up inside me in a single thrust, a slick ramrod of power that almost jerks me off my feet. It’s like his rage is gathered in his loins, focused in his cock, propelling into me like a torpedo. He pulls away slowly and rams again, his gaze pinning me to the wall as surely as the pounding weight of his lithe, muscular body and the tight grip of his hand.
And now my arousal surges to match as I strain closer to meet him, thrust for thrust. I have territory too … softer than his, maybe, and quietly swollen with waves of desire from my gentler rush of emotions, but just as insistent and just as needy.
His eyes glitter as he draws closer to his finish. It’s part in triumph but partly something new. I can almost feel the pain of delay as he slows inside me, impaling me, holding off for agonising seconds but poised on the brink. It’s another statement of power, another tiny assertion of discipline, that he can make it last, make me beg …
‘How can you do this? Hold off like this?’ I’m breathless, longing for him to finish so I can catch him up. I’m only seconds away, my pressure building, everything deep down poised and aching for his next merciful invasion …
My climax hovers like coming thunder while he holds off the moment, still determined to pay me out. ‘Is this a punishment? It’s unnatural.’
He watches with a gleam as I wince and push against him, willing him in. I was enjoying that … He knows I’m close. I don’t have to tell hm. If I can feel his heat, he sure as heck can feel mine. It must glow all around him, burn in my pleading gaze, ripple through my soft muscles where they’re still drawing him in, craving release.
‘Discipline,’ he says quietly. ‘That’s how. Time you learned some.’
I stare at him, my pleasure peaking now. Any moment …
‘You mean –?’
His slow smile answers my question. My heart sinks.
What was I thinking? Why remind him of all that now? I see a sudden image of him towering over me, bronzed and oiled, his eyes burning into mine as I kneel before him, waiting patiently for him to do things I never knew people did.
Things I never knew people enjoyed.
The image is so powerful I stare up at him bewildered as he surges into me again in a final triumphant thrust that brings him to fruition and sends me careering over some edge that turns out to be far higher than I thought it was and now I’m falling, flailing, afloat on a sea of pleasure …
His low snarl jerks me back to reality.
‘Yes, discipline. Restraints. That’s exactly what I mean.’
‘So find out. I want the names of everybody who can swim and anybody who was off-site this morning. And I want them yesterday. Got that?’
Darnley’s
