Chapter 342

Daphne

Turns out dicks are not so bad when you think about it.

It’s not about what the dick is, but what the dick can do for you.

I’m thinking philosophically, of course, looking at the water in the distance from the window of the villa. The sun is setting, casting long, golden fingers across the surface of the sea. It’s the kind of view that’s supposed to inspire deep thoughts, and I suppose it is. Just not the kind one expects.

A soft, muffled sound pulls me from my reverie.

I look down and smile.

"What was that, sister-in-law?" I ask, a teasing smile playing on my lips as I gaze down at the woman before me.

She’s naked, on her hands and knees on the plush rug, her wrists bound together behind her back with a silk scarf. A matching piece of silk is tied between her teeth, serving as a gag.

Her nipples are perky from the attention I just paid them, my tongue having spent ages tracing the constellations of freckles across her skin.

I walk around the bed and sigh.

She’s wet, soaking if in being honest.

It’s dripping down the back of her thighs, she’s swollen, and the sight is so lewd, so attractive, it makes my own body tighten in response.

Ignoring the desperate murmurs coming from behind the gag, I head to the edge of the bed, lean over, and grab the back of her thighs. I lean in and lick a long, slow stripe up her center.

Seriously, she’s so sweet.

I do it again. And again. I lose track of time, lost in the taste of her, in the way her body trembles with every pass of my tongue.

Her muffled moans become more frantic, her hips pushing back against my face, seeking more. The silk scarf around her wrists digs into her skin as she strains against her bonds, and the sight only spurs me on.

Deciding to give her the much-needed relief she’s craving, I close my mouth over her clit and suck hard.

She trembles violently, a choked cry escaping the gag, and I hold her hips steady, not letting her pull away as I release her.

It’s like I’m thirsty, and I can’t get enough. I drink her in, my tongue delving deep, losing myself in her taste and the desperate sounds she’s making.

I lose all track of time, the world outside this bed ceasing to exist.

Eventually, I stop, my own breathing ragged. I walk around to the edge of the bed, to her face. The blindfold is damp from her tears.

Should I? Should I not?

My original plans for this getaway flash through my mind. Sure, we were going to have sex, but I wanted us to swim, to play in the water, to look at the exotic fish.

But it’s been two days, and all we’ve done is fuck. Her fault ( though I am a willing participant).

Today, I had planned to actually leave the villa, to take the boat out, but she seduced me, making me stay.

So this is punishment. For her, and maybe a little for me.

"Did you know," I begin, my voice low and calm, a stark contrast to the raw passion of moments before.

"I planned to take you somewhere where we could swim with dolphins? You know, on a date. But what did you do, sister-in-law, when I asked you to get dressed?"

She murmurs something indecipherable behind the gag.

I reach out and remove it, the silk sliding away from her swollen lips.

"You didn’t get dressed," I say, holding her jaw firmly, forcing her to meet my gaze. "Instead, you decided to lure me in, dressed in nothing but your underwear."

A slow, wicked smile spreads across her face.

"I don’t regret it," she says, her voice a hoarse whisper.

***

Vivienne

And I mean it.

I don’t.

Those dolphins can go to hell. At the mansion, we would never do this. Back home, all I can do is just look at her, not touch her. In this place, she’s mine.

The darkness from the blindfold makes my other senses more. I can feel and hear her, stand and walk in the room. The air shifts, a current of heat that tells me exactly where she is. I can track her movement, a predator tracking its prey, except I’m the one caught in the trap.

Then I can’t help my scream when she thrusts in hard.

My eyes roll back. This is exactly what I wanted.

Not the gentle teasing, not the slow build—I wanted to be taken, to be filled so completely that there’s no room for thought, no space for anything but the feeling of her inside me.

"Harder," I beg, because I want to forget my name, everything.

I want to be wiped clean, a blank slate that she can rewrite with her body.

How I wish I could smell her pheromones right now, so that she could overwhelm me completely.

Stupid suppressants.

I want to drown in her scent, to have it coat the back of my throat, to have it seep into my skin until I’m nothing but a vessel for her.

I want to lose myself so thoroughly in her that there’s nothing left of me but the feeling of her inside me, the sound of her voice in my ear, and the taste of her on my tongue.

She unties my hands, and the sudden freedom is a shock before she grabs me by the neck, pulling my head back against her chest.

I feel her soft breasts, her perky nipples pressing into my skin.

But I can’t breathe. She’s restricting my air, her grip firm and unyielding, and it’s amazing.

It’s perfect. More.

"Sister-in-law," she purrs against my ear, her voice a low, mocking rumble that vibrates through my entire body.

"Aren’t you nasty, feeling how you tighten around me like this." I shudder, a full-body tremor that has nothing to do with cold and everything to do with the way her words strip me bare.

"Vivienne," I say, my voice a broken, desperate thing.

She bites my ear, a sharp, possessive sting, and then she says my name again.

"Vivienne." That’s all it takes. I can’t help it. I come, a violent, shattering wave that rips through me, leaving me breathless and trembling.

It’s too much. It’s not enough. I need more.

"Knot me," I beg, the words tearing from my throat.

"Please, Daphne, knot me."