Compromised in Paradise (Compromise Me 3)

“How do you feel?”

“Alive. Invincible.” She swam over to him, her face glowing with excitement, and maybe a little from being in the sun all day. He’d get her out of the sun soon, but he planned to keep the glow going.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but thank you for throwing me off a cliff.”

He caught her up in his arms and treaded water to keep them both afloat. “Anytime.”

“So…” She tipped her head to the side and smiled. Her hair had slipped free of its knot, and her wet skin glistened in the light. She looked sleek and seductive as a mermaid. “When can I claim my reward?”

Coy as her delivery was, the question managed to drop like a stone squarely in his gut, a heavy reminder that she wasn’t looking to form a bond of friendship here. For her, he had a singular purpose. Sex. A week of training her body to release stress and accept pleasure. He couldn’t even fault her for such narrow expectations, because that’s exactly what he’d offered. Six days, a soul-crushing orgasm the likes of which she’d never experienced, and no complications.

“You want your reward?”

She nodded, but her smile slipped a little, which told him he was doing a piss-poor job of keeping a lock on whatever the hell was eating at him. Fuck disappointment. He was hard as a rock, holding a woman who wanted nothing from him except the rock-hard cock.

What more do you want?

Nothing. The situation suited him perfectly. He just had to keep reminding himself about the no-complications part, because although he wasn’t even on a first-name basis with her, Arden St. Sebastian made it too easy to forget his limits.

Just like you “forgot” to call Aunt Evelyn yesterday and cancel the date?

He still had two days to do that, and he would, because this thing had limits for both of them. The trick was to do what he did best. Enjoy the here and now. He lifted one corner of his mouth in a smile he knew from experience sent a crystal-clear message, and congratulated himself when the uncertainty disappeared from hers. “The timing depends on you, Czarina. How fast can you swim?”

Chapter Nine

This week is exactly what you needed.

Not just the week. The man, Arden silently corrected as she scissor-kicked through the natural pool and followed him toward the far end where the banks narrowed so the surrounding vegetation formed a fringy shield. He wasn’t just reintroducing her to orgasms, he was reintroducing her to fun. Some of the success might have to do with the fact that the parameters they’d set provided a perfect safe zone from real life. Arden St. Sebastian didn’t exist here, and after the last few months, that was gloriously liberating. The ironic result? She could relax with him, let her guard down and be herself in ways she hadn’t even realized she’d abandoned lately. The whole thing was so beautifully risk-free.

He sent her a backward glance and the kind of grin that contradicted any characterization of him as risk-free. Then he dived under the surface and disappeared beyond the veil of leaves. In the moment of solitude, with just the steady lap of water and the steady stream of her conscience to answer to, she acknowledged the risks that had started circling the edges of her mind like dorsal fins since somewhere around the time she’d experienced the best sunrise of her life. Yes, it would be easy to get addicted to the escape. To orgasms, and fun. And talented astronauts.

But that wasn’t going to happen, precisely because they had set parameters. This fairy tale ended in two days.

Does it have to?

Yeah, it did. She couldn’t be the czarina forever, and even if she could, Rider wasn’t looking for forever. For his own reasons, he was perfectly happy returning to his space station at the end of the week.

The thing to do, she decided as she drew in a breath and sank beneath the water, was enjoy the moment.

A few strokes propelled her under the sheltering leaves, and then two strong arms encircled her. They pulled her forward as they lifted, and she found herself standing shoulder-deep on a submerged ledge of rock, pressed against Rider’s hard, warm body. Sunlight filtered through the curtain of greenery shielding their small cavern, but she didn’t get much chance to look around, because Rider lowered his head and then an impatient mouth devoured hers.

He kissed her like he’d been waiting to do it for years…eons…and someone might yank her away at any moment. There was no way she could have prepared herself for the teeth-clicking, oxygen-stealing, mouth-fucking assault that left her ravished and hungry for more. She scaled him like a mountain and hooked her legs around his waist. His fast, delving tongue invaded at will, inciting and abandoning every vulnerable hollow with wicked efficiency. Wet, slightly salty lips slammed into hers with satisfying intensity, over and over, sliding away just as abruptly, only to crash down again. She cupped his jaw, determined to claim that avid mouth, even as she chased after every sensation like a woman scrambling after beads from a broken necklace.

His fingers were just as fast as his mouth. They tangled in her bikini top, yanking it off. She had no idea what happened to it after that, and she really didn’t care because at last she could press her breast into his big hand and feel the rough caress of his palm.

She arched in his arms. When she tore her mouth from his to moan for more, or less…or more, he scraped his teeth across her earlobe and muttered, “You must have known when you tied on that tiny red bikini you’d be torturing me all day.”

She had. Yes, she had. Her neck muscles took a time-out, and her head fell back as he plucked her nipple. “You said wear a swimsuit.”

“That’s not a swimsuit. It’s a cock-torment, and you know it. The top ought to be illegal. It shows everything. I had to drive us here with a ruthless hard-on because each dip and turn in the road made your tits bounce, and let me tell you, there are a lot of fucking dips and turns on the road to Hana. Those little triangles were red flags, and I was the goddamn bull.”

The confession thrilled her as much as the way he covered her breast with his hand. She raised her head, but couldn’t muster up the strength to open her eyes. “Should I apologize?”

“Eventually. But sixty miles is a long time to suffer, Czarina. You’ve earned some very special punishment.” So saying, he moved his hand to the side of her breast. “Watch.”

Her eyes were already open and glued on the sight of his tan hand against her much paler breast. Then he gave it one quick, restrained slap. They both watched her flesh jiggle from the impact. She felt the rebound all the way to her core and gasped at the sensation. Before she fully absorbed it, fully separated the pleasure from the shock, he transferred his attention to the other breast and delivered the same punishment.

Her lips parted to release another gasp, and then another. She lost count after that, caught in a thrall as he delivered more little slaps—to the undersides, the gentle swells of her cleavage, and again to the outside curves. When he paused, she collapsed against him, breathing heavily, pressing her aching nipples against the cool, soothing granite of his chest. “Sorry,” she murmured into his shoulder.