Chapter 17

The boardwalk beneath my feet is a familiar path now, leading back to the private cottage where Julie waits.

The sun is setting, casting a golden hue over the ocean, a picturesque scene that belies the turmoil in my mind. Julie’s disappointment earlier was palpable, a silent accusation that I’m not fully present, not fully committed to this honeymoon of ours.

I made plans for tomorrow to make up for today’s absence. I have arranged for activities that I know will delight Julie; experiences designed to create memories we’ll both cherish. Yet as I make my way back, a nagging unease settles over me.

The sound of voices behind me pulls me from my thoughts. I slow my pace, my senses heightened. The voices are masculine, carrying a tone that doesn’t quite fit the serene surroundings. I turn, my gaze landing on two men dressed in boating attire.

They don’t look like typical tourists or locals. There’s a certain alertness in their posture, a readiness that’s out of place in this relaxed setting. My instincts—honed from years in a world where trust is a luxury and danger often lurks in the shadows—kick in. I assess them quickly, noting their build, the way they carry themselves, the way they scan their surroundings.

Our cottage is secluded, the last one on this stretch of the boardwalk. The presence of these men is no coincidence. I feel a surge of protectiveness, an instinctive need to get to Julie as quickly as I can.

As they continue to approach, my body tenses, ready for a confrontation. Every scenario runs through my mind, each one ending with me ensuring Julie’s safety. However, just as I’m preparing to confront them, to demand what business they have, they veer off the path, disappearing down a narrow trail marked ‘Employees Only.’

I watch them go; my suspicion not entirely abated. Their sudden change of direction does little to convince me of their innocence. I make a mental note of their appearance and the direction they took.

In my world, caution is always warranted, and I can’t afford to let my guard down, not even in paradise.

As I stride onto the deck of the cottage I notice Julie, completely absorbed in her book. The title catches my eye: ‘Tangled Hearts.’ It appears to be a light, fun romance novel, the kind that promises escapism and a touch of whimsy. I can’t help but smile at her choice, so different from the business and strategy books that fill my own shelves.

I clear my throat lightly and Julie looks up, her expression shifting from the dreamy haze of the book’s contents to the present moment. ‘Enjoying your read?’ I ask, a teasing note in my voice.

She grins, closing the book and setting it aside. ‘Oh, absolutely. Nothing like a good romance to distract you on a lazy beach day,’ she replies, her tone playful.

I lean against the railing, watching her. ‘I must admit, I’ve never understood the appeal of those kinds of books. Don’t they all have the same plot?’ I ask, genuinely curious.

Julie laughs, a light, carefree sound. ‘Maybe, but it’s all about the journey, not the destination. Besides, who doesn’t want a little love story now and then?’ she retorts, her eyes sparkling with delight.

I nod, considering her words. ‘Perhaps I’ve been missing out. Maybe you can recommend a good one for me. Something to broaden my horizons beyond corporate strategies and market analyses.’

She tilts her head, appraising me with a hint of mischief. ‘I’ll have to think about that. But be warned, it might flip your world upside down when it comes to love.”

The smile that spreads across her face is one of genuine warmth, a contrast to the composed, professional demeanor I’m used to. It’s a smile that reaches her eyes, transforming her entire expression, and for a moment, I’m caught off guard by the rush of emotion it stirs within me.

My heart, usually so guarded, so carefully shielded, falters as a realization hits me with unexpected force. The barriers I’ve erected, the rules I’ve set to keep emotions at bay are wavering in the face of this woman. What began as a convenient solution, a means to an end, is quickly becoming something more, something dangerously close to genuine affection.

‘Have you learned anything useful in your book?’ I ask. I’m curious to see how she’ll respond, knowing full well the steamy nature of such reads.

She looks up, a sly grin spreading across her face. Her eyes sparkle with mischief and she winks, fully understanding the implication behind my question.

‘Oh, maybe a thing or two,’ she replies, her tone playful yet suggestive.

She sets the book aside and stands up, her movements fluid and inviting. ‘Why don’t you come over here and I’ll show you?’

I can’t resist her invitation.

Without another word, I close the distance between us, my resolve to maintain a professional distance crumbling under the weight of this newfound realization. I lean down, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s meant to be brief, a simple gesture of affection.

But the moment our lips meet it morphs into more, a kiss that’s deep, intense, and unexpectedly revealing.

The exchange leaves us both breathless, a silent acknowledgment of the burgeoning connection between us. ‘Dinner will be delivered soon,’ I manage to say, my voice a little rougher than intended.

Her response catches me off guard. ‘I’m only hungry for one thing,’ she says, her voice a sultry whisper that immediately turns my cock to stone.

Our lips meet again in a dance of passion, exploring and tasting, each kiss deepening the bond that’s been simmering beneath the surface. We slip out of our clothing with an ease that speaks of our growing comfort with each other, our banter playful yet laced with an undercurrent of a longing desire.

The air around us is charged with electricity, every touch sending sparks through my veins. I guide her toward the bedroom, my hand firmly yet gently on her lower back.

Once inside, the soft light casts a warm glow over us, creating an ambiance of sensuality and anticipation. I pause for a moment, gazing into her eyes, gauging her readiness for what I’m about to propose.

‘Julie,’ I begin, my voice low and steady, ‘have you ever explored the dynamics of domination and submission?’ My question hangs in the air, an invitation to a world of heightened sensations and trust.

She looks at me, her eyes wide with curiosity. ‘No, I haven’t,’ she admits, her voice tinged with a hint of excitement. ‘But I’m always open to new experiences.’

I nod, pleased with her willingness to explore. ‘It’s about trust and surrender. About giving and taking control in a way that heightens every sensation, every emotion.’

I step closer to her, my presence commanding yet reassuring. ‘I’ll lead, and you’ll follow. You can stop at any time, just say the word. But if you’ll trust me, I can show you pleasures you’ve never imagined.’

Her breath quickens, and I can see the anticipation building in her eyes. She nods, a silent agreement to my promise.

I begin to guide her with a calm yet authoritative presence. ‘Stand here,’ I instruct, pointing to a spot just in front of me. ‘Face me.’

She does as directed, her movements graceful yet tinged with a hint of nervous anticipation. Her eyes meet mine, searching for reassurance, and I offer her a small, encouraging smile.

‘Now,’ I continue, my voice low and steady, ‘I want you to close your eyes. Just focus on my voice and let yourself feel.’

She complies, her eyelids fluttering shut, and I watch as a sense of trust washes over her features. ‘Good,’ I praise gently. ‘Now relax. Feel the space around you. Feel my presence.’

I step closer, my breath mingling with hers. ‘I’m going to touch your arm now,’ I say, ensuring she’s prepared for each interaction. As my fingers trail softly up her arm, I feel her shiver slightly at the contact.

‘How does that feel?’ I ask, my voice a whisper.

‘It’s good,’ she replies, a tremor in her voice revealing her growing arousal.

‘Remember, if you want to stop, just say so. You’re in control, even when surrendering to me,’ I remind her, emphasizing the importance of her consent and comfort.

I guide her through a series of simple, yet intimate commands, each designed to heighten her awareness and response to my touch. ‘Turn around, slowly,’ I instruct. ‘Feel each movement, each moment.’

As she turns, I continue to guide her with my voice. ‘Now, lean back against me. Let yourself feel supported, safe.’

She leans back, her body pressing lightly against mine, and I sense her easing into the experience, her initial tension melting away under my guidance.

‘Trust me, Julie. Let go. Feel the freedom in surrender,’ I whisper into her ear, my hands resting lightly on her hips.

As she leans back, trusting me, I gently guide her arms behind her back. ‘I’m going to bind your wrists. It’s all part of the experience, the trust,’ I explain softly, my voice a steady presence as I secure her hands with a soft, silken rope. The binding is firm but gentle.

Her breath hitches slightly at the sensation, a mix of anticipation and exhilaration evident in her posture, her back arching. ‘How does that feel?’ I ask, ensuring her comfort is paramount.

‘It’s different, but exciting,’ she admits, a tremor in her voice betraying her growing eagerness.

I move closer to her, my body barely grazing hers, my breath warm against her neck. ‘Focus on the sensations. Let yourself be present in this moment, in every touch,’ I guide her, my hands tracing over her bound wrists, up her arms, and along the contours of her body.

Her breathing becomes more labored, a clear sign of her rising arousal. The restriction of movement seems to amplify her senses, each touch magnified, each caress sending waves of anticipation through her.

‘You’re doing great,’ I encourage her, my voice low and seductive.

As I continue to explore her body, her responses become more fervent, her body arching instinctively toward my touch. The combination of restraint and stimulation is weaving a potent spell, drawing her deeper into the experience.

‘You’re so responsive, Julie. So beautifully responsive,’ I murmur, watching as she writhes gently, bound yet free.

I can feel her body responding, the tension building like a crescendo. ‘Focus on my touch, on the sensations,’ I guide her, my words as much a caress as my fingers.

My finger trails down her front, along the flat plane of her stomach, over the thatch of hair above her pussy. She moans and squirms against me. Soon I’m right above her womanhood, my touch teasing her. She’s yearning, pressing her body against mine, guiding me without words.

I decide that the teasing has gone on for long enough. I move my hand between the warm silkiness of her thighs and guide her to spread them. She does, and I wrap my arm around her middle to hold her in place as I spread her lips open.

“Yes… yes, just like that.” Her words come out in pants, her breasts rising and falling as I tease her clit with my thumb. She’s soaking wet, letting me know in the most direct way how she’s feeling about our little experiment in pleasure.

I enter her with a pair of fingers. She moans again, clenching around my touch, bucking her hips into my hand. She’s warm and wet as I move in and out of her, her breaths coming quicker and quicker.

“Are you going to come for me?” I ask.

“Yes. I’m so damn close.”

I smirk. “Good. But you’re not going to do so until I tell you. Understood?”

“Y-yes.”

“Excellent.”

I continue to touch her, quickening and slowing my pace, bringing her to the edge only to pull her right back. Her legs are starting to shake, and I get the distinct impression that, without my holding her up, Julie would’ve collapsed under my touch.

Finally, I decide it’s time.

“Now. Come for me.”

Her hands clench and unclench, a physical manifestation of her internal struggle between control and surrender. ‘Ivan…’ she gasps, her voice trembling.

‘That’s it, Julie. Let go,’ I coax, my touch becoming more focused, more purposeful as I guide her toward release.

As she nears the brink, her body tenses, a bowstring pulled taut. ‘You’re almost there,’ I whisper, my voice a steady anchor in the storm of her sensations. ‘Let it happen.’

With a final, gentle push from my fingers, she crosses the threshold, her body shuddering with release. ‘Ivan!’ she cries out, her voice a raw, beautiful sound that fills the room.

I pull her gently into my arms, holding her as she comes down from the climax, her body still quivering with aftershocks. ‘You were incredible,’ I tell her, my voice filled with genuine admiration and a hint of awe at her trust and openness.

But we’re not done yet.