Three Strikes (Desire Island 3)

Deeply moved, Ryan had emptied his wallet, handing over his eighty-three dollars. He’d watched in stunned, grateful disbelief as she slid the beautiful collar into its silk pouch and placed it in his hand.

Miranda and he had become friends after that, and their friendship had deepened over the years. He had introduced her to Ella, and they’d sent a lot of business her way. She had promised to come to Desire Island the following spring along with her husband and Master of thirty-five years, Gordon.

Turning back to the bed, Ryan gazed at Abbie, who was still sleeping soundly. She lay on her side, her wrists loosely cuffed together, her clasped hands under her cheek as if in prayer. Her silky red hair fanned out on the pillow and there was a small, secret smile on her lips.

Miranda had been right. Though it had taken over a decade, he had finally found the woman of his dreams.

Chapter 11

The windows were open to let in the evening breeze. Abbie leaned back against Master Ryan’s knees, her eyes closed in bliss as he expertly massaged her shoulders. It was after dinner on their last night. Master Ryan was seated on the sofa at the back of the dungeon, Abbie on the cushion at his feet.

As they were expecting guests, he had dressed that evening in sexy black leather pants and boots, a black vest open against his gorgeous chest. Abbie wore a sheer mesh and lace pink corset that accented her nudity beneath it. The back of the outfit consisted only of black straps in a crisscross that left her ass on full display. Her legs and feet were bare.

Abbie looked up at the sound of golf cart tires crunching the seashell gravel that lined the wide path leading to the cottage.

“They’re here,” Master Ryan said. “Why don’t you go to the door to greet them?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Master Ryan had invited a friend of his who was visiting the resort to come over after dinner. “His name is Adam Hawk,” Master Ryan had told Abbie earlier that day. “He’s a custom whip maker—one of the best. I haven’t seen him in a while because he’s been traveling abroad. He never stays in one place for very long, always looking for the best leathers and learning new techniques. I invited him to select a staff slave to bring along this evening, and he’s chosen Shani.”

Abbie was delighted Shani would be coming too. Shani was always so calm and self-contained. Hopefully, her peaceful demeanor would rub off on Abbie. Because, while Abbie had become more comfortable masturbating in front of Master Ryan, she would need all the serenity and composure her many years of yoga and meditation could deliver if she was asked to masturbate to orgasm in front of others.

Master Ryan had warned her that particular submissive gesture might be on the table that evening, if the mood struck him. “But I don’t want you to stress over it,” he had added kindly. “All I ask of you for tonight is that you do your best with honesty and grace. You have my permission in advance to come. If you succeed, that’s terrific. If you don’t, we’ll just add it to the list of things to work on together.”

As Abbie rose to go to the door, a deep, sexy male voice called out, “Hey, there. Anybody home?”

She pulled open the door to see a very tall, broad-shouldered man with black hair and piercing green eyes. He was dressed in a white silk button-down shirt tucked into dark trousers. He held a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Champagne in one hand and had a gear bag slung over his shoulder.

He smiled down at her, his eyes moving over her body briefly before returning to her face. “You must be Abbie.” He extended a large hand. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Adam Hawk.”

“Nice to meet you, Sir,” Abbie replied as he gripped her hand in a light clasp.

He stepped aside, revealing Shani just behind him. In Abbie’s opinion, Shani was the most beautiful woman on the island. Of African and Native American descent, she had smooth, coppery skin and large, dark eyes. She wore her hair so short it was almost a crewcut. Instead of making her look masculine, the close-cropped style highlighted her lovely face, with its high cheekbones and generous mouth.

Five-foot-nine, Shani had a voluptuous figure, with large, full breasts, a long, narrow waist and gently-flared hips. Tonight she was dressed in a cream-colored lowcut leather bustier that contrasted beautifully with her dark skin, over a short red leather skirt that stopped mid-thigh. Her feet were shod in strappy red leather high-heeled sandals that added several inches in height, but still left her shorter than Adam, who had to be six-four or taller.

Abbie’s eye was drawn to the beautiful bracelet of hammered gold Shani wore on one slender wrist. Shani always had on the most unusual, beautiful jewelry, which she made herself. When Abbie had first noticed and marveled at the delicate handmade items, suggesting Shani should sell them, Shani had shrugged. “I never really thought about it. My grandmother taught me and I’ve always enjoyed working with metals. But it’s just for fun.”