Michele Zurlo (12 page)

She waved a dismissive hand. “Heather is okay in private, but I will ask that you don’t use it when others are around. Nobody here knows my real name, and I prefer to keep it that way.”

Sabrina drew back. She cast questioning glances at Jonas, but he didn’t have answers. He had neither seen nor heard from Heather since his divorce.

“That’s fine.” He hadn’t come to Elysium to do anything but celebrate his five-year wedding anniversary. He made an encouraging motion. If she didn’t spit it out soon, he planned to head for the door. He had plans for the evening that included his wife, the hot tub on his room’s balcony, and perhaps some restraints.

Heather took a deep breath, and though it made her breasts strain against the neckline of her bright red shirt, it screamed desperation. “The owners of Elysium are in the midst of a nasty divorce, which has apparently been going on for five months but I only heard about it yesterday morning. They’ve put a stop on all the accounts. I have enough left to run this place for the rest of the week, but only if I don’t pay any of the employees. I can run a business, but not like this. I don’t know what to do, and you’re the only person here I know who won’t try to take advantage of the situation.”

He had no idea what she expected him to do. He taught high school English and a few basic business classes, but he’d never applied those skills to real life. Logic dictated that she should ask the owners to reopen the accounts. “Have you spoken to any of the owners?”

She shook her head. “I’m running into a wall of lawyers. I was going to send everybody home, but what if I panic today and they get their shit together tomorrow? I’d lose my job.”

It sounded like she was already out of a job.

Sabrina cleared her throat, perhaps as a way to ask permission to speak. He hadn’t anticipated a situation like this when he’d asked her to be submissive. He nodded, giving his consent.

“Have you contacted the bank?”

Heather shook her head. “I don’t know what good it would do.”

“The bank manager might be able to offer a solution. If not, you probably need to stop new arrivals and meet with the employees. They have housing here, and their basic needs are being met. Most of them probably don’t keep a second home anywhere. They might be willing to keep working in exchange for the right to stay here until they’re evicted.”

Heather stared at Sabrina, no doubt appreciating the combination of beauty and brains that Jonas often admired. She blinked and nodded slowly. “You’re right. I think I’m just freaking out a little too much to see the rational course of action. I was right to seek you out. Thank you.”

Jonas refrained from mentioning that the opposite could happen. The employees could refuse to work, and they could elect to stay put. The island wasn’t part of a country. The security teams were comprised of ex-military personnel, but if they weren’t being paid, they had no reason to enforce anybody’s will. Besides, he couldn’t see Heather kicking anybody to the curb. She was a firm Dominatrix, but a softhearted fool when it came to people in need.

He rose to his feet and pulled Sabrina with him. “If you don’t mind, we’re going to make the most of the night, especially since it might be our last.”

Sabrina offered Heather a sympathetic smile that had just a hint of superiority, but it took an experienced eye to ferret out the tinge of condescension. He waited until they made it back to their suite before he took her to task for her attitude.

It seemed she had the same idea. The moment he locked the outer door of their suite, she rounded on him, her pointed finger blazing a path straight to his chest and her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

“How do you know her? Why does she call you Master J?”

She deserved answers, but he couldn’t reward her for the accusatory way she’d accosted him. As sexy as he found it when she lost her temper, he couldn’t let her behave like a spoiled brat. She was better than that.

He would have given her a look that let her know she was in serious trouble, but he’d never punished her, not even verbally. Sure they’d argued, but those conversations had been emotionally charged and they always ended with sex. If he gave her that look, it wouldn’t leave her quaking in her sandals. In truth, it was likely to just piss her off more, and then she’d be even more difficult to reason with.

And while they hadn’t agreed on punishable offenses or suitable punishments, he thought this situation warranted something to calm her down and put her in her place. If she objected, he would deal with it. If not, then he knew he’d chosen the correct course of action.

He grabbed her wrist. “I think we can agree using that tone with me has earned you a spanking.”

Digging in her heels, she tried to jerk her wrist away, but it didn’t get her anywhere. He was much stronger. She punched him in the stomach, confirming his suspicion that she was uncommonly angry. The unexpected blow winded him a bit, but he didn’t let that slow him down. Whirling her, he captured her in his arms, holding her arms across her torso to deprive her of their use. She struggled against him, but with her back pressed against his front, she wasn’t going to get anywhere.

“Son of a bitch.” She growled at him and threw her head back. It hit his chest with a dull thud. “Did you sleep with her?”

“What the hell kind of question is that?” Jonas recalculated his strategy. He needed to teach her how a submissive acted when she was angry or upset. Showing emotion and having opinions were two things he liked. It meant a two-way relationship. But there were certain protocols that needed to be followed, ones with which she was unacquainted.

He was still going to paddle her ass. For asking such an offensive question, she’d find out the difference between an erotic spanking and a punishment paddling.

She stopped struggling. Perhaps the outrage in his tone brought home the reality of what she’d asked. “I didn’t mean while you were with me. I know you’re faithful. I meant before you met me.”

“Whether I did or not is irrelevant. I don’t ask you questions about the men you introduce me to.” The occasion had never presented itself. If they met a stranger for dinner or ran into one while they were out and about, it was usually one of her clients, and she always made sure to provide a proper introduction.

“She called you ‘Master.’” Sabrina jerked her body again, trying to break his hold.

“Stop that. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

She yanked again, and he knew he was risking bruises on her wrists. He heard her teeth grind together as she growled again. “I don’t care.”

He tightened his arms around her body, pinning her arms in place and making it impossible for her to move. “I care. You belong to me. While I might like to see you with reddened skin, I don’t care for bruises.”

She stopped fighting him, but she didn’t relax into his hold. Her body was one long line of tension, and she used it to draw a line between them. He was going to have to set her straight before he could punish her.

“I never slept with Heather. She was a Domme I mentored for a little while, back when I used to work the club scene.” He needed to come completely clean. If she found out that he’d omitted information, it would be worse for him later. “She was a friend of Helene’s.”

“Your ex-wife?”

He didn’t know any other Helenes, and neither did she. “Yes. I don’t know if they’re still friends. I haven’t talked to Heather since before the divorce. She moved away, and I never gave her another thought.”

Her body softened slightly, still rigid, but less pissed off. When Jonas had first introduced Sabrina to his friends and family, more than one of them had remarked on her resemblance to his ex-wife, and they’d said it to her face. Sabrina hadn’t liked the comparison, and Jonas hadn’t cared for it either. While they shared the same basic attributes, height, and coloring, they were nothing alike, either physically or in their personalities. Sabrina was a goddess, so no real comparison could be made.

“Didn’t you recognize her when we got here?”

She wanted to know why he hadn’t said something to her earlier. He could have, but it didn’t seem relevant. This was their honeymoon. Nobody else mattered. “Yes, but she didn’t seem to recognize me. It wasn’t important for me to jog her memory, so I let it go. I realized last night that she knew who I was.” Heather had pretty much goaded him with that smug, knowing look. She hadn’t bothered to even pretend to consider any of the volunteers.

Now the fight went out of her. She slumped against him. “So you didn’t prearrange that whole scene at the bonfire?”

“No, but it was damn hot.”

She snorted at his pun. “Why did she choose you?”

He held her gently now, rubbing his hands up and down her arms in a soothing caress. “I think she was looking for a reliable volunteer, one who knew what they were doing and wouldn’t need much guidance. It made her job easier. I was a means to an end. She must be truly desperate to ask me for advice.”

For the first time, it occurred to him that Heather had felt safe in asking him because she bought into his ex-wife’s deeply held belief that Jonas lacked ambition. Heather knew he wouldn’t make a play for her job or try to usurp her authority. That sentiment wasn’t true. He had plenty of drive. He just hadn’t wanted the same things his ex-wife had wanted.

Sabrina turned in his arms. As if she knew what disturbing conclusions he’d drawn, she touched her fingertips lightly to his cheek in a tender caress. “She knows she can trust you. You have a strong moral compass, and that’s apparent no matter how well or how little somebody knows you. It’s one of the things that makes you so good at everything you do.”

Instantly his resolve to punish her melted. This was the reason he didn’t identify too well with the title of “Master.” He knew how to take care of his submissive. He knew how to bring emotional and physical fulfillment to the woman kneeling at his feet, but he had no driving need to have anyone, much less his wife, falling to her knees at the sight of him. While he’d asked her to submit to him for the next three days, he didn’t expect her to behave this way for the remainder of their marriage. He appreciated knowing her opinion, and he liked the way they’d divided the leadership roles in the house.

But lately he’d come to suspect that Sabrina needed more than what he was giving her. These five nights were as much a test of him as they were of her. The balance they’d once established wasn’t going to work anymore, and he aimed to return home knowing exactly what she needed to be his happy wife.

He inhaled the sweet scent of her hair, noting how the aroma of grass and flowers now mingled with the perfume that was uniquely her. Then he released her from his hold. She hadn’t disagreed that she’d earned a punishment, and now it was time to keep his word.

“Punishment time, honey. You can’t growl at me and hurl unfounded accusations. If you have questions, you know I’m always open to having you just ask them. Remove your clothes and get on your knees.” Perhaps he was explaining too much, but he figured he had to treat her as if she were new to the concept, if only because she was new to the idea of being punished.

Her lips parted as she stared at him. He knew gears were turning in her brain, trying to figure out if he was serious. Once she came to a conclusion about that, he waited for her to figure out whether or not she could accept this amendment to the role of submissive. While she’d played in the past, he was asking for the real thing now.

With a somber light in her dark eyes, she lifted her dress over her head and kicked off her sandals. When she knelt before him with all the natural grace and beauty in her arsenal, he was nearly undone. His instinct had been correct. She wanted this. Maybe this was why she asked to be spanked so often in their scenes. She subconsciously craved a real punishment. He’d known for years that she liked to be flogged until she reached subspace, but he hadn’t known she wanted to remain mentally present.

While he circled her body slowly, drawing attention to her complete lack of power, he searched his memory, trying to pinpoint when the shift might have occurred, but he failed. She was simply too fascinating for his attention to wander elsewhere.

Standing behind her, he gathered her hair in his hands. She shivered and inhaled sharply. Part of the reason she wore it up so often was because having it down made her aware of her sensuality and her vulnerability. Forcing her to wear it down stripped away layers of protections that separated her from the outside world. Knowing these little things about her made all the difference.

As strands of her hair cascaded through his fingers, he decided it didn’t matter when she began needing to be punished. It most likely had been a gradual thing, much as his need to have her submission. Now that he was aware of her need, he would make sure it was met. Tomorrow he’d take her to the Fields of Punishment to see how much she could take. Today, he’d keep her punishment private.

“Get on your hands and knees. Spread your legs as wide as your shoulders. Turn your hands so your fingers point in at a forty-five degree angle. That will help keep them from slipping out from under you.”

In one fluid movement, she achieved the exact position he wanted. He’d watched her dive before, and she used the same grace here.

“Arch your back. Deeper. Like that. Hold that position no matter what.”

It would be challenging to hold it, especially after he started the punishment, but he knew she would do her best. Sabrina greeted all trials head-on, and she never gave up. The fact they were still together attested to that. She’d kept her faith in him that first year when he hadn’t given her a reason to do so.