The Possession Page 3

  Kris blushed as she reached behind her back and began unfastening her bra. “I guess I better get over my embarrassment. And quickly.”

  “And burn those horrid old maid clothes while you’re at it,” he said a bit thickly.

  Her eyes flew to his groin, and she immediately noticed that his bulge there had grown. Only instead of reacting shyly to his erection this time, she found herself feeling more powerful. Well, still a little shy. But undeniably giddy.

  John Calder had access to any beautiful woman of his choosing, after all. But his penis was getting turned on by ordinary her.

  She finished unfastening her bra and allowed it to drop to the floor. Her shoulders relaxed a bit when she saw that his blue eyes had narrowed in arousal.

  “You have nice breasts,” he said softly. “Full, natural, lightly tanned like the rest of you…and your nipples are exquisite.”

  She blushed, despite her resolve not to again.

  “And now the panties,” he said firmly.

  Kris took a steadying breath, then blew it out as she removed her boring cotton panties. He was right about her clothing, she conceded. She did dress like an old maid.

  When she at last stood before him completely naked, her breasts and mons bared to him, she watched him look his fill at her, his eyes raking over her nude form.

  “Very nice,” he murmured, walking the scant foot toward her that separated them. “I have a friend who loves redheads, you know. Obsesses over them actually.” He grinned. “He’ll be here tonight. I have a feeling that when he sees you tomorrow, all bets are off for the other patrons. You’ll be his for the entire time. He won’t share this exquisite beauty with anyone else.”

  She shook her head as she smiled at him. He was making her feel sexy, bolstering her self-confidence, and she appreciated it more than words could say. Lord knows that tomorrow she’d need all the self-confidence she could get. “Thanks for saying that,” she said quietly. “Even if you don’t mean it.”

  Her breath caught in surprise when his warm palm covered her left breast, then left in a rush when his thumb began plumping up the nipple.

  “You’re a very sexy woman,” he said thickly. “And if it wasn’t for the fact that I have a business to run these next five days, I’d order you to my own bed.”

  His usage of the word order immediately caused her clit to swell—the usual reaction she had when reading about female submission in books. Funny that it had taken a commanding word from the handsome man to get her wet, though. Because when a man as commanding of nature as Jack McKenna growled at her…

  Bah! Her nemesis was the last man she wanted to think about just now. Even if the Grinch’s growling did secretly make her wet every time he snapped at her. It’s just that his surly attitude and gruff nature embodied the very ideal she held up for what a master should be like. Or for the kind of master she wanted to be a slave to for five days.

  But Jack McKenna wasn’t the type to view master and slave as a game, she reminded herself. Not that he wants you anyway, idiot!

  “Jump up on the table and spread your legs for me,” John said in a non-threatening tone, bringing Kris back from her thoughts.

  Her green eyes widened at the command, but she did as he’d asked her to and hopped up on the table behind her. That done, and growing increasingly aroused, she spread her thighs wide open and, her heart thumping madly, watched as he stared at her exposed vagina.

  “Very nice pussy,” he drawled softly as he drew closer, his gaze fastened on it. “Now put your hands behind you on the table so your gorgeous tits are thrust up even higher.”

  She blew out a nervous breath and complied.

  His eyes raked over her naked breasts as his hand reached toward her mons. “Very nice,” he murmured. His right hand began to gently stroke her, his thumb zeroing in on the clit. She gasped, her nipples instantly stabbing up into the cool air of the office.

  “That’s right,” he said in low tones as he expertly massaged her. He smiled when she bucked up her hips on a soft moan and ground her swollen pussy up against his palm. “Let yourself go, sweetheart. Drench my hand.”

  Her head fell back on a groan as she came hard and quickly for her new and very temporary employer. She hadn’t been touched like this by a man in over a year, let alone mounted by one as she would be during the excursion.

  Even as heat rushed to her face and her nipples jutted out from the impact of the orgasm, she realized, of course, that John’s only intention was to condition her to a stranger’s touch. She knew it was nothing personal and that when he was finished with her the next woman would be led in for the same conditioning.

  This was to prepare her for the next five days, when lots of strange men would be touching her. Which was what she wanted.

  Wasn’t it?

  Or maybe, perhaps, she wanted only one man doing these things to her.

  But it was too late to turn back now, she decided. And she really did want to have one wild experience to look fondly back upon.

  Her breathing labored, her heart rate wild, she watched as John dipped a finger into her wet flesh, pulled it out, and sensually sucked it dry. He smiled. “Very nice.”

  She half laughed and half snorted as she sat up straight and closed her thighs. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  He didn’t bother to deny it, which for some reason she found amusing.

  “No worries,” he promised her with a wink. “You’ll do just fine tomorrow.”

  Chapter Three

  Jack McKenna stalked up the front steps to Hotel Atlantis feeling even surlier than usual, which was saying a lot. Dr. Salazar’s excavation of the construction site had gone on longer than he had expected, the flight to the island had been bumpy, and truth be told, he wasn’t in much of a mood to be here anyway.

  He had come because his best friend had asked him to join him for a week of pleasure. John tended to worry over him like an older brother, when in fact John was two years younger than his own forty-two.

  Maybe his best buddy was right, Jack decided with a scowl. Maybe the best way to get that damn little prissy witch out of his mind was to work her out of it.

  Preferably with some deep, violent thrusting into a warm, awaiting woman. Better yet because of the dangerous way he felt just now, a warm, awaiting, submissive woman was what he needed. All the things the prickly Ph.D. was not.

  He frowned as he absently pushed open the heavy thatched hut doors that had cost John a pretty penny and were made to resemble the impenetrable wall that separated the natives on Skull Island from their god King Kong.

  His eyebrows rose as he stepped inside. On the other side of the doors lay paradise.

  The voluptuous naked women wouldn’t be prancing around the resort that had been fashioned to bring to mind a jungle oasis until tomorrow, but already young, muscular men were situating thatched tables and imported jungle trees all over, preparing for the onslaught of the wealthy guests who would begin arriving in a few hours time.

  Jack grunted. How ironic that men worked their asses off to be as rich as they could be so they wouldn’t have to live like primitives, then they turn around and pay his best buddy tens of thousands of dollars a pop to spend a few days living like that very thing.

  Only in style, of course. And with lots of naked, willing women, he thought with a half-smile.

  He wondered what the prissy little witch would think of his being here.

  She’d thumb her nose at the resort, and at him, he thought with a frown. Her type always did.

  His smile faded. He couldn’t even figure out what it was that had attracted him to the red-haired know-it-all to begin with. She spoke in big sentences, used pompous words, and thought that men like him who didn’t have a formal education were beneath her. Worse yet her clothes were plain and drab, her hair was always wrapped into a bun so tight he sometimes found himself wondering if her cat-like eyes would bug out of her head, and nine days out of ten she had on the ugliest, thickest b
lack spectacles he’d ever had the displeasure of seeing.

  Goddamn, he wanted to fuck her.

  He wanted her so badly even the spectacles gave him a raging hard-on.

  “Jack!”

  Jack’s head snapped up. He smiled slowly as he watched John Calder take the thatched, twig-looking stairs two at a time, then stroll toward him. “How ya doin’, buddy?”

  John smiled fully, displaying perfectly even white teeth. He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ve just finished conditioning the new women.”

  “Ah.” Jack nodded as he swatted him affectionately on the back. “That explains the toothy grin then.”

  “Mmm,” John agreed with another toothy grin. “There’s one in particular—” He slanted an eyebrow at Jack. “A redhead I think you’ll like.”

  Jack absently scratched his chin as he considered his friend’s words. What better way to work off his lust over a redheaded witch than with another one. The logical part of him doubted this unknown woman would be as satisfying as seeing Professor Prickly submit to him, but as horny and surly as he was feeling, he’d take what he could get. For now.

  Besides, it wasn’t like his little witch would give him the time of day anyway.

  Ack! Stop thinking about her, jackass! The whole point of coming here is to quit thinking about her, remember?

  Jack absently ran a hand over his five o’clock shadow. “Sounds good, bud. But in the meantime I could use a shower and some sleep. I’m pretty beat.”

  John nodded. “You look like hell.”

  “Gee thanks,” he growled.

  He chuckled. “Come on and I’ll show you to your hut. I reserved your favorite one for you.”

  Jack’s eyebrow notched up. “Suddenly I’m feeling a hell of a lot better.”

  John laughed as he followed him up the stairs that resembled thatched twigs. “I don’t blame you. Every voyeuristic pleasure a man could want and then some is viewable from that hut. But, unfortunately, the fun will have to wait until tomorrow. The new women are all being taken to the Massage Hut tonight to get them ready, and horny, for tomorrow.”

  Jack’s attention was snagged by the opening thatched door of a nearby hut. He watched as a procession of five naked females, presumably all of them the new ones, were led from the Instruction Hut where they were given pointers on what was expected of them over the next five days and steered down a hall made to resemble a dirt floor. Jack had visited John enough times to know that at the end of the dirt-packed hall was the Massage Hut, a place where the women’s bodies would be rubbed and caressed by the young, muscular male help, further conditioning them to the touch of strangers.

  Sometimes Jack found this entire place a bit overwhelming. It was true he was an old-fashioned, domineering, possessive kind of guy—and men like that by nature tended to think more of their own comfort than others—but Jack did think about others, and he wasn’t the type who wanted an unwilling woman with him, no matter how well she was being paid for her submissiveness.

  But hell, even John’s own sister and business partner Sheri had chosen to work for hire at the resort once. She’d probably done it when she’d been in the mood for a little fun because she definitely didn’t need the money. Far from it in fact. And the regulars around here had loved it when she’d chosen to work for hire because it was the only time any of them had gotten their hands on her.

  Jack had never been with Sheri and never would. She was the one female in the world he truly felt was off limits to him because she was like the kid sister he’d never had. Plus John would kill him, he mused.

  For as long as Jack lived he’d never figure out how it was that a man as protective of his younger sister as John was could let Sheri work for hire at the resort. Lord knows on the one occasion when she had, Jack had felt the protective urge to cover up her naked body and drag her back to the mainland where nobody here could touch her.

  But Jack was Jack and John was John. Best friends they might be, but their personalities were worlds apart.

  “There she is,” John murmured, breaking him away from his thoughts. “Hot, isn’t she?”

  Jack’s gaze honed in on the woman in question. Her back was to him as she walked away, but he had to agree that what he could see looked good. Damn good. With every swish of her full hips her dark red mane of curls bounced vibrantly, falling down her back and ending just above her round, lightly tanned ass. He felt his cock stiffen. “Very hot.”

  “I knew you’d like her,” John said on a grin.

  As Jack watched the sultry woman walk away, it occurred to him that her cascade of dark red hair was probably how his little witch’s would look if she ever let it out of that deathly tight bun.

  He found himself hoping that the redhead’s face looked pert and intelligent like the professor’s, then cursed himself for the fact that he wanted the prostitute to look like her at all.

  “I want to massage her,” Jack heard himself rumble out. It wasn’t like him to not be able to wait, but there it was. He just wanted to know what she felt like…

  John chuckled. “Consider it done.”

  * * * * *

  The Massage Hut was an incredibly eye-opening experience for a woman whose most hedonistic pursuit to date, other than being conditioned by John, had taken place mostly in her fantasies.

  “Let me see if I have this right,” Kris whispered to the woman sitting next to her. The brunette’s name was Elizabeth and she had worked one of these excursions before. “They are going to tie silk hoods over our heads so we can’t see who’s touching us?” She swallowed a bit roughly, feeling way out of her element.

  Elizabeth grinned. “It’s actually very pleasurable. The point of it is to teach your body to respond to touching—any touching—because not every man who touches you over the next five days will be handsome. Far from it, in fact,” she said wryly.

  She chewed that over for a long moment. She supposed she could see a glimmer of underlying logic to that, but…

  Kris’ face scrunched up. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to not hood us and to have men of various states of attractiveness come in and touch us while we watched?” she asked, her scientific mind forever assessing and hypothesizing.

  Elizabeth shrugged. “Probably. But hooding is the way it’s done here so just lay back and enjoy.” She grinned. “I think you’ll enjoy it a lot more for your first night here than you would have had John brought in uggos to masturbate you.”

  She blew out a breath, conceding the point.

  “Relax,” Elizabeth said on a smile, patting her knee. “I promise you’ll have a lot of fun.”

  And fun was why Kris was here. She smiled slowly, then nodded. “Consider me relaxed.”

  * * * * *

  There she is.

  Jack blew out a breath as he walked toward the padded lounger Red had been strapped down to. Her hands were bound above her head, her legs were tied apart spread-eagle and secured to posts, and her face was covered with a black silk hood. Still, he knew it was her. The dark red inverted triangle of pussy hair more or less gave her away.

  Goddamn, he was hard.

  And, he decided, he liked the black hood because without seeing her face he could pretend it was his little witch.

  Jack didn’t waste any time. He stared down at her body for no more than a few seconds before his calloused hands reached for her full breasts and palmed them.

  He watched as her nipples immediately stiffened, stabbing up and wanting attention. He massaged them with the pads of his thumbs, his eyes hooded in arousal when a low moan escaped from behind the silk covering. “You like that, baby?” he asked thickly.

  Oddly, her body stilled. But then, as if she’d thought something over and had decided to discard the idea altogether, she moaned out a yes.

  Jack’s gaze dropped to her exposed, puffed-up cunt. His eyes didn’t have to fall far because the loungers had been raised up off of the ground so that they came about waist level on a guy his height. Presumably to make i
t comfortable for the massagers to touch the women without having to crouch down.

  Unable to resist, he rubbed his steel-hard erection against the flesh of her pussy, softly groaning when he heard her low moan. When he backed up a step, his hand fell to his trousers and he immediately noted that they were wet with her arousal.

  Jack’s nostrils flared as one of his hands left her stiff nipples and began softly stroking her labial lips, rimming them in featherlight caresses.

  Her body bucked up as best as it could on a moan, which was pretty far for a woman who’d been strapped down.

  His jaw clenched as his thumb found her clit and he began working it around in slow, methodic circles.

  She gasped, her back arching as if inviting him to fuck her.

  Jack wanted to fuck her. Goddamn, how he wanted to. But he realized that tonight was reserved for strictly massaging, so he stifled the primitive urge to mount her like an animal in heat and settled for fondling her instead.

  He rubbed her clit with more pressure, his cock stiffening until his balls ached, when he felt her dew saturate his hand. “I want to taste your cunt,” he said hoarsely. He bent his head and drew the clit into the warmth of his mouth and suckled it. “Can I?” he mumbled after the fact from around the swollen piece of flesh.

  She bucked up as if trying to smash her pussy into his face, her groans growing louder.

  “Good girl,” he murmured. His calloused hands reached back up to massage her nipples, and his mouth clamped firmly onto her clit as he buried his face into her cunt…

  Kris had never been more aroused in her life. Elizabeth had been correct; being hooded had much to recommend it. All of her senses were more alert from the blindfold, her sense of feel included.

  This man whose face was buried between her legs—this man who had sounded like Jack McKenna of all people for one frightening moment!—well and truly knew how to eat a woman out. His throat made all these heady growling sounds as he lapped at her flesh, and she could hear the sound of him slurping up her clit and repeatedly suctioning it into his mouth.