Three Strikes (Desire Island 3)

She gasped in pain, wincing as a welted red line appeared. Tears filmed her eyes. She blinked them away, maintaining her position.

“You please me,” he told her.

Her eyes flitted down to his cock, which was hard as steel from the power rush. A flicker of a smile moved her lips. “Thank you, Sir,” she replied.

Back in the cottage, they showered and made dinner together, a simple meal of steak and salad. While Ryan put on a pair of shorts, he kept Abbie naked, save for the bit of rope around her neck.

As before, she knelt on the floor cushion beside him during the meal. He enjoyed feeding her, alternating bites of food with sips of cold water and red wine. He especially loved the way she sensually sucked his fingers when accepting a morsel of meat. His cock responded, and he was looking forward to the night’s adventures.

While Abbie was cleaning up, he went into the bedroom and sat on one of the two chairs in the room, his laptop on his knees. He opened his work email just to make sure everything was going smoothly at the resort. There was only one new email. It was from Ella. The subject line read: Urgent.

Shit. What had happened? He shouldn’t have taken the whole week off. Ella needed him.

When he clicked the email open, he laughed out loud.

“STOP CHECKING WORK EMAIL,” the message read in all capitals. “YOU’RE ON VACATION.”

His phone dinged, indicating a text message. Looking at the screen, he saw it, too, was from Ella. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist checking work stuff. Cut it out. Everything is under control. We can survive for a week without you, promise. Is everything going well?”

“Going great,” he texted back. “Abbie is super responsive and eager to submit.”

And I think I might be falling in love, he thought but did not add.

When Abbie appeared at the door of the bedroom, Ryan directed her to pull down the covers and lie on the bed. It was a queen-size four-poster bed with lengths of chain conveniently looped over hooks set there for the purpose, two new pairs of leather cuffs already attached.

Once Abbie lay on her back, he came over and sat beside her. “You’re going to masturbate for me again,” he informed her. “I don’t want you to think about anything. Just focus on your pleasure, and on serving me.”

A small flicker of anxiety moved over her face, but she mastered it, replying only, “Yes, Sir.”

He took a small tube of lubricant from the nightstand and squirted some onto his fingers. “Spread your legs wide,” he directed.

He stroked her sex with his lubricated fingers, moving in sensual circles. She was already wet, and her clit hardened beneath his touch.

When he was satisfied that she was properly aroused, he pulled his hand away. “Your turn.”

After the briefest hesitation, she brought her hand between her legs. She looked sexy as hell, rubbing and finger fucking herself, her eyes on his face, her breath coming faster as she focused on her task. But after several minutes, a small pucker of worry appeared between her eyebrows. It was clear she wasn’t accomplishing her goal.

Not wanting her to fail again, Ryan stretched out beside her and placed his hand over hers between her legs. He guided her movements, their fingers working in tandem on her slick, hot little cunt. She moaned softly, her eyes fluttering shut when he slid a finger inside her.

Keeping his hand over hers, he swirled and rubbed until she was panting, her eyes squeezed shut. But no—he wasn’t going to let her off that easily. Before she could climax, he pulled his hand away.

“That’s enough,” he informed her. “You won’t be coming again until I decide you’ve earned it.”

A flash of frustration moved over her features, but she only said, “Yes, Sir.” Then she added with a small frown, “I’m sorry I disappointed you, Sir.”

“You didn’t,” he corrected her. “In fact, I’m pleased with you. You didn’t fake it. Don’t worry. You’ll get there. All I want from you right now is your honest response and your best effort.”

Yes, Sir,” she replied softly.

Climbing from the bed, he got to his feet. “Lie in the center of the bed. Stretch your arms and legs to the posts and remain still.”

As she scooted into position, he pulled a large, rectangular plastic container from beneath the bed and removed the lid. Inside were coils of rope and lengths of chain, along with several blindfolds, shrink-wrapped ball gags and packets of various types of nipple clamps.

He selected two pairs of clover clamps and then slid the box back under the bed. Setting the clips down on the mattress beside Abbie, he secured her limbs to the bed posts. Once she was properly bound and spread eagle before him, he sat on the bed beside her and picked up one of the sets of clamps.