Flora Dain - Capture

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 voice is low and fierce. He’s making calls while we change for lunch. While I’m in the en-suite he speaks fast. As I walk back out he’s already sliding the phone into his pocket.

So he does think we had a snooper. I swallow. What else goes on around here? Or is he still rattled about this morning? Maybe he’s not used to me making a stand. Something about that cut him deep.

Lunch is light and tasty, small portions of chowder with crusty bread and fresh butter from a local farm, followed by peaches. He says little, but watches me throughout. When I drain the last of my zingy local wine he gets up and holds out his hand.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Where do you think? We’ve things to discuss.’

I bite back a grin as he leads me into the bedroom and pulls me down beside him, his eyes dark with need. At a faint movement in his jeans I feel a surge of heat so explicit I wonder if he can sense it. The gleam in his eyes hints that maybe he does. He peels up my thin sweater and nuzzles deep in my breasts as he hauls me up to lie over him.

‘Have you thought about what I asked you to do here? Or did that stuff this morning change your mind?’

With an effort I drag myself back to the main reason I’m here.

We’re here for a few weeks on a kind of working vacation. He’s supervising the launch of his training facility here on the West Coast while he waits for the results of his international deals to get shareholder or government approvals. After that he’ll have an international workload and I’ll be at work here, doing some specialised teaching – literacy, mainly. But till then he’s all mine.

And while I’m here I’m not just arm candy. What he was trying to tell me this morning I already knew – that the recruits are handpicked for special security ops.

The idea is that young people, some troubled, all unusual, are referred here from the military, secret services, special schools, even remand centres for short, intensive courses in security work. It means they get a boost to their confidence and maybe a new start. The work is risky but he’s got a lot of agencies on board –including the Principal at my specialist academy in Boston.

And with his special brand of Darnley magic he’s even arranged for me to come out here and help. But the final decision rests with me. I’ve still not said I’ll do it for certain.

I grin. ‘The work sounds great, just what I like. Plus I’ll be living here, with you. Seriously tempting. But –’

He runs his hand over my flank, making me shiver as his fingers search out the swelling mound of my rump, exposed and quivering where I straddle his hips.