Page 82 of High Sea Seduction

The belt lands next to my right hand. From its coiled position, I can feel its warmth, and I experience an insane desire to caress it.

That thought flees my head as merciless fingers hook into my panties and rip them off. “Oh!”

Mason’s fingers tighten in my hair. “No, kitten. You don’t get to gasp your delight, or arch your back and moan. You answeryes,sir, orno, sir, or use your safe word. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

He stares at me for an eternity, before he pockets my shredded pink lace panties. They look delicate and decadent, dangling from his precisely tailored pants. For some reason, I can’t look away from them.

I jump when someone attempts to open the door, but Mason barely blinks. Coolly, he reaches for the belt and steps back.

“I said you would be mine until the yacht reaches its final destination. Do you remember?” he demands softly.

I swallow. “Yes, sir.”

Smack.

The sting flames pure fire through my veins, spreading pleasure to my cunt and tears to my eyes. I eat my moan and shudder through the pain.

“I distinctly remember using the words ‘completely without exception.’ Did I not?”

“Yes, sir.”

Smack.

“As an intelligent woman, did you think that meant I would be okay with other men hitting on you?”

I tremble at the naked fury in his voice. “N-no, sir.”

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The harder hits tell me that this is what enrages him most. My skin’s on fire and tears pour down my face. My left knee buckles and smashes against the vanity.

“If you think of us as parasites, then so be it. But we will be parasites with no distance between us, in the bedroom or out of it. Do you understand?”

He’s changing the terms of our agreement. “No, sir.”

“No, you don’t understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s simple, kitten. You’ll be mine inandout of the bedroom,completely, or this is over.”

I want a fuck load of things I can’t have. Our initial agreement set boundaries that I could see, if not totally control. Agreeing to this will immerse me deeper into batshit craziness of oceanic proportions. His gaze holds mine, fierce and demanding. I feel the clock of my demise counting down.

“What’s it to be, kitten?”

“Yes, sir.”

Smack. I flinch. A hand slams repeatedly against the toilet door, followed by a demand in muffled Spanish.

“Will you forget again?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Do you want me to fuck you now?”

Every fiber in my body jumps at the low-rasped demand. “Yes, please, sir,” I answer with a ferocity that speaks to my unbridled craving.

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