Michele Zurlo (5 page)

By the time naptime rolled around, Sabrina’s nerves were once again stretched to the breaking point. She cornered Jonas outside where he was fiddling with one of the sprinkler heads.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He glanced up, lifting a brow at her unusually colorful language. She almost never swore when they weren’t in a scene.

“Fixing the sprinkler head. It’s watering the side of the pool house instead of the grass.”

She stomped her foot, hating the gesture even though it made her feel a little better. “I mean last night. And this morning. If you’re mad at me, I wish you’d just yell or spank me or something.”

He rose to his feet, his lanky legs unfolding as he stood up, and wiped his hands on his jeans. “I’m not mad at you, Sabrina. You said you didn’t want to go. I’m respecting your wishes. Last night you were strung so tight I thought you were going to snap. I knew you weren’t going to fall asleep without help. And then when Ethan called for you and you didn’t get up, I figured you were exhausted, so I got him out of his crib and we let you sleep.”

No tension stiffened the lines and planes of his body. His olive gaze showed patience and a little bafflement. He truly wasn’t upset with her.

She shook her head in disbelief. The resort was something he’d talked about on and off for years. “You didn’t really want to go?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You don’t want to go, and I would never make you do anything you don’t want to do. I love you, honey. If we go, we go because we both want to be there.”

Oh, but she wanted to be there. She just wanted to not have stretch marks or sagging breasts first.

“Sabrina, what’s holding you back?”

Startled, she stared up at him. He’d always been able to read her. Sometimes that skill brought endless thrills. Other times it revealed secrets she’d rather keep to herself. Shaking her head, she said, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. You’re about ready to cry right now, and that’s not like you.”

It used to be like her to hold in her emotions, swallow whatever bothered her and pretend like it didn’t exist. She folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t think people should see me naked. It’s not a pleasing sight anymore.”

His dark blond brows shot nearly to his hairline. “You’re serious?”

Though she was easily one of the most attractive women on the planet, Jonas knew better than to argue with her. She required proof, not words. So he narrowed his eyes, took a step closer, and went with a different strategy.

“Why does it matter what anybody but me thinks?” He didn’t add that he was her husband and her Dom, and his opinion was the only one that counted where she was concerned. There was no need.

Her eyes widened. Shades of brown swirled as she realized her mistake. She dropped her arms down by her sides and cast her gaze to her feet. “It doesn’t.”

Threading his fingers, grease and all, through the hair at the nape of her neck, he yanked hard to bring her gaze back to his. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, but they were the right kind. Her shoulders relaxed, and she gave herself over to his control.

“Clearly, it does. You’re refusing to go on a proper honeymoon with me because you think other people might not find you attractive. If you think I’m going to share you, you’re sadly mistaken. I will kill any man who touches you, Sabrina. Make no mistake, my opinion is the only one that matters, and I find you very attractive.”

“No, I didn’t mean that.” She scrambled to reassure him, and he had to suppress a smirk at how well she responded to his reassuring taunts. “I meant—I—I—Damn it, Jonas. I have stretch marks all over the place.”

He leaned down, not stopping until his face was inches away. “Each one of them proclaims to one and all that you belong to me. You’re my wife. My submissive. The mother of my children. You will wear them proudly as the badges they are.”

Perhaps that was pushing things a little far, but truthfully, he didn’t think they stood out. Maybe they would if he held a black light next to her skin, but he had no intention of doing so. From his frequent and close inspections, he knew she had a few on her inner thighs, her ass, and across her stomach, and maybe one or two on her breasts and hips. They were parts of her, and he loved
all
of her. And he knew better than to tell her about the ones on her ass. She hadn’t yet discovered them.

She trembled so hard he felt the shockwaves radiating across the small space between them. He knew she wanted him to treat her roughly, to make her forget about everything that was bothering her, but he refused to do that until everything was right between them.

“I’m just not as confident about this as you are.” She touched his shoulders and traced the line of his muscles over the triceps and biceps. “You’re still very toned and handsome. You can’t possibly know how I feel.”

The thing about being married to a smart woman was that she changed tactics mid-discussion. He resisted the urge to turn her over his knee. She’d like that too much. He knew she wanted to go. The brief gleam of excitement in her eyes told a different story from her mouth. If this was the only thing holding her back, then nothing was holding them back. He wasn’t going to allow this to derail his plans.

Instead of responding to her statement—there was no way to win using that avenue—he nodded, indicating that he’d reached an inarguable decision. “I’ve arranged for your mother and my parents to watch the kids. We leave in one week.”

“Jonas—”

He set his finger over her lips. “This discussion is over.”

It was a risky move because Sabrina was only sexually submissive. Otherwise she was strong willed and highly opinionated. She was a brilliant strategist, practical and creative, and she ran a huge division of a marketing company. She commanded respect and obedience from nearly everyone around her. That was the woman he loved, and he wouldn’t change her for the world. If she didn’t want to go on that honeymoon, they wouldn’t be going anywhere.

Her trembling ceased. She nodded, accepting his pronouncement.

His heart leaped with joy, but he allowed only the half-curve of a smile to grace his lips.
 

The tiny plane barely bounced as it touched down on the runway. Sabrina gripped Jonas’s hand out of pure excitement. Though she wasn’t completely sold on being naked in front of strangers, the other delights promised by this exclusive resort located on a private island were high on her list of loves.

They exited the plane and were herded across the tarmac toward a small building. Sabrina barely had time to appreciate the tropical foliage before they were once again inside. Bright sunlight poured through high windows, but the walls went up too high for her to be able to see anything but sky.

“Welcome to Elysium.”

In front of the six passengers from the plane stood a very tall woman. Sabrina looked from their greeter to Jonas and back again, visually measuring the height difference. The woman had to be three or four inches taller, which put her over six feet tall. She wore a colorful island dress with a flowing, uneven hem that fell just past her knees. Her tight black curls were cut short and tied back with a length of fabric that matched the print on her dress. Her wide lips were slick with ruby red gloss, and hoop earrings dangled from her lobes.

She radiated confidence, and Sabrina detected an edge of danger. The woman was clearly in charge.

“You may call me Mistress Hera. None of you have been here before, so there’s a brief orientation before you’ll be allowed ground privileges.” She grinned widely. “Elysium was founded in 1947 by a group of people who found their lifestyles not accepted by polite society. They pooled their resources and created this heavenly escape. Everyone here is involved in the BDSM lifestyle somehow. We don’t require anyone to participate in anything, and we don’t expect anyone to assume roles they haven’t chosen.”

Sabrina listened as Mistress Hera explained that they would find people at Elysium who participated in only the D/s aspects and others who were purely sadists or masochists with no interesting in being Dominant or submissive.

“There are two important groups to watch out for,” Mistress Hera continued. “Employees of Elysium are not part of the package. They don’t wear uniforms, so look for their badges. They’re required to wear them at all times. They not only monitor public activities, but they’re the people making your food and cleaning up your messes. Please be courteous and polite, but don’t make the mistake of treating them as Dominants or submissives. While some of them identify that way, many of them do not.”

A quick glance around the small welcome room showed several employees standing patiently near one door. They each wore badges on lanyards around their necks. Despite what Mistress Hera said about not having uniforms, each of the people waiting nearby wore colorful print shirts and khaki shorts. It was sort of a uniform.

Mistress Hera bestowed a smile on the group that seemed to simultaneously single each of them out. “The second group of people to look out for are the unattached slaves. These are guests who have chosen to come here in order to serve whomever they want in a multitude of capacities. They’re easily distinguishable because they’re either completely or mostly naked. They’ll avert their gaze or drop to their knees if a perceived Dominant is nearby, especially one they wish to serve. If somebody drops to their knees in front of you and you don’t want to play with them, just ignore them.”

That seemed awfully rude to Sabrina, but she wasn’t here to judge the customs. Jonas squeezed her hand and kissed the corner of her mouth, soothing away her unease.

“If you want to play with a slave, you may approach them. Observe standard protocol as explained in the releases you all signed, and be clear in stating what you want. Slaves will respond with permission or refusal. Refusals cannot be questioned. Supervised negotiation is required before you can play. All employees are trained to supervise negotiations, so you don’t have to go anywhere special or do anything too complicated. Also if you witness misbehavior by a slave who is here alone, report it to an employee. Do not take it upon yourself to discipline them.”

It seemed that slaves were well protected whether or not they came with a partner. That made Sabrina feel better. While she didn’t identify as a slave, it made her feel better to know she could move around the island and not worry about random Doms or Dommes.

“If you have questions about protocol, ask an employee. They’re very helpful.” Mistress Hera swept her arm toward the three employees waiting patiently for her to finish her introduction. “I’d like to introduce Zorah, Draco, and Mayabeth. They’ll see you settled and give you a tour if you’d like.”

The three employees each waved as Mistress Hera spoke their names. Now Mayabeth came forward and extended her hand to Jonas. She was short like Sabrina, but her build was very slight. A strong wind could carry her away. She had dark eyes and long, dark hair that fell almost to her waist.

“Master Jonas, I’m Mayabeth. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you and your submissive to your suite. Your bags have already been transported. They’ll be waiting for you there.” Her smile was genuine, and her gaze never left Jonas’s.

Sabrina narrowed her eyes at the slight. The cute, petite woman wasn’t flirting, but she completely ignored Sabrina.

Jonas let go of Sabrina’s hand to shake Mayabeth’s. Then he put his arm around Sabrina’s waist. “This is my wife, Sabrina. We’re not formal, and we only assume roles when in a scene.”

Sabrina realized that Mayabeth’s actions represented a misinterpretation of their roles, not an actual slight.

Mayabeth turned her smile to Sabrina. “Hello, Sabrina. Welcome to Elysium.”

Good breeding dictated an appropriate response. “Thank you. It looked beautiful from the plane. I’m looking forward to seeing the island.”

“It’s incredible,” Mayabeth agreed. “Would you like to freshen up before the tour?”

She’d rested just fine on the plane. Jonas had as well. He rubbed his hand along her spine. “How about a tour that ends at our suite?”

“Very good.” Mayabeth nodded. “We can begin at Persephone’s Garden. From there, we’ll proceed to Hades’s Palace, The Fields of Punishment, The River Styx, and then we’ll end up on the Isles of the Blest where your suite is located.”

By the time they made it to their suite, Sabrina collapsed on the sofa, exhausted.

“This place is huge.”

Jonas chuckled. “They’re missing a place of judgment, Charon’s ferry, Asphodel, and Tartarus for the truly wicked.”

She’d forgotten he taught an ancient studies class. “Charon’s ferry would make for a nice day trip down The River Styx. What about the Furies and the other characters who live in the Underworld?”

“That would be one interesting masquerade party. I wonder if they do something like that for solstices or on Halloween?” He flopped down next to her on the wide sofa and put a firm hand on her thigh. “I guess this is what happens when the Caribbean meets the Underworld.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. Her eyes were heavy, and she struggled to keep them open. Perhaps she wasn’t as well rested as she thought. “A tropical version of Hell?”

“The place where the distinction between Heaven and Hell blurs.”