Becoming His Slave (81 page)

“Oh fuck. This is incredible.” Diesel moaned.

Paris pushed in deep and was instantly picking up a steady rhythm of long deep penetrating strokes.

The room filled with the melody of all three of them moaning with new fevered pleasure. And the scent of their sex surrounded them, perfuming the room in addition to the heated sweat they shared as they rocked and grinded into one another. Paris’ pace quickened while Diesel kept to a slow deep penetrations inside Marcena. But the two men were locked into each other’s gaze, watching the lust running rampant inside each other, for each other. Damn Paris was still the sexiest man he’d ever come across only now that wild hunger that burned in his eyes was roasting him while he took him in his own ass. Letting him ride him. The thick shaft stroking inside his walls and over his prostate delivering something all new and when Paris let out a guttural cry he felt the shot of fluids in his ass. Wow that was amazing and then his own release took over, his hips bucked violent inside the girl while Paris stayed inside, “Oh fuck yeah! Fuck!” Diesel growled as his whole body shook, his cock throbbing with his release. Everything spilled from him, draining him and in minutes he knew he would be sinking into bliss and sexually sated dreams. He wasn’t even going to have the energy to get up and wash his two slaves.
Oh
hell he’ll do that later
.

Marcena let out a cry of her own then collapsed over his chest and he stoked her back twirling her hair in his fingers and felt Paris coil up around his side nearly pushing the girl over.

“Send her away.” Paris mumbled not withholding that he wanted Diesel all to himself at this point.

“
Shhh
, you stay quiet there.” Diesel whispered sliding his arm under Paris’ head and wrapping around him to keep him snuggled close against his body, drifting in sleep already. “I fucked you both so I will snuggle and sleep with you both.”  But only Paris received a kiss to his temple as the three of them, wrapped in each other’s arms, fall in deep sleep.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Diesel woke to the inner awareness going off in his head that someone else was in the room with them. His eyes flew open to find Marcus standing over him. Diesel stirred then seeing both Paris and Marcena still wrapped around him he gave Marcus a pleasant grin. He drew in a deep breath and let it out with a gentle sigh then stretched and again looked up at his roommate.

“Fam just called he and Chemène are on their way to pick the girls up.”

Diesel nodded. That meant getting up and getting her bathed before his arrival. The only reason Marcena and Rachel were still with them was because Fambleush and his wife wanted to have a few days alone with their new slave. But her training was over and time for her to go back to whom she belonged to.

All was good, he needed to get up and see to Trenton anyways, get his brother up and headed for Florida as promised. Once he had seen Trenton safely off to retrieve his unicorn, he had every intention of taking Paris to his room, to enjoy the remainder of the fallen angel’s final day and one last night before setting him free as well, with only a burning hope that what he set free would eventually come back.

Watching Trenton go through his own emotional turmoil only made him dread all the more what he might feel if Paris didn’t return, yet it was not enough to stop him now. He had already tasted the wine in his bed and wanted more.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

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Trenton stood at the door of the house boat, his heart beating in a strange erratic painful throb as the woman he wanted more than anything stood staring at him half surprise, half no so much.

“How’d you find me?” She whispered not really caring how he did, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say at that moment. Her heart was lodged in her throat choking any other words from coming up.

“The tracking chip in your phone.” His voice filled with the pain his heart drummed out in his chest. He stepped toward her; closing the space between them. Even as she stepped back into the boat he followed her till he reached out taking her arm gently to stay her retreat. “You owe me an explanation—” he told her, “but not this very moment. I just want to have you near me right now.” He pulled her into him and held her against his chest, his arms wrapping around her in a near crushing hold to hang on.

She felt the tight tension in him. His arms were stiff, his chest hard and cold. Not the warmth she was use to feeling there. His heart was pounding like the drum heading in for war and she could make out the love sick soldier boy melody it beat out. He trembled when he held her like he was seconds from exploding or it was everything just to stop himself from crushing her in his arms. The pain she felt from him was unbearable and she was sobbing instantly, “I’m sorry—” she wept, her face muffled by his body. He said nothing.

That evening they hardly said a word between the two of them, walking quietly along the sponge docks, Trenton never letting go of her hand as they browsed the shops.

They sat and ate at Hellas Greek restaurant sharing flaming cheese, frikasse of lamb served with a side of lemon potatoes and artichokes soaked with oregano and olive oil. All finished off with dessert, rosewater cream poured over a bowl of mixed sweet berries. And true to Trenton’s nature and his intent of who she was intended to be in his life, not one bite of their meal did Katianna take that wasn’t been fed to her by his hands.

It was painful—the silence between them, no more than to ask her opinion for what was good on the menu did they say anything else, but words would have hurt even more had they tried at the moment. He watched her—one hand always touching her whether it was to hold her hand or caress her shoulder, her face or her thigh. While his other hand fed them both from the same plate.

Afterwards they sat along the sea wall and watched the sun set. Filling the sky with crimsons, purples and burned out oranges, before darkening into a velvety midnight blue lit up with the occasional flash of heat lightning out in the distance.

“I’m exhausted. I could really use some sleep right now.” Trenton broke the silence and she could also hear the pain he was feeling, that it was the cause for wearing him down.

Silently they walked back to the houseboat docked at the end of the street and curled up in each other’s arms in the bed where Trenton soon fell into a troubled sleep.

Kat couldn’t sleep, her mind filled with pain and too many words, too many turbulent emotions and just more pain. She quietly slipped from his arms curling up on the floor next to the bed and watched him sleep. Her heart felt heavy, wanting to be with him and too scared to give in at the same time. What he asked of her was no simple request and yet she could easily fulfill his wishes, but it was that ease of complacency that scared her the most. To grow too comfortable and content in a world controlled by someone else—by him. That once let go, the drop was too far to survive under. She had barely survived being dumped by Garrett and she hadn’t even held any deep emotions for him.

Now here back home back in the little tourist town where she grew up, another upheaval of emotions were rushing through her like the afternoon thunder storms common here. One minute blue sky—sunny and sweltering hot, then next a black rolling cloud of thunder and raging umbrage, on top of you like a stampede of wild angry horses equipped with water spouts and Dorothy’s spinning house.

Growing up here life had been pretty simple, not always blissful, but simple, because her mom viewed it as such and raised Katianna to share those views. There was never such a thing as asking
why
things were the way they were. Life had a simple design to it—it threw up all over the place and were you landed—well that’s where you had to kick it out. Destiny was about making it where you were, with what you’d been given. And you sure as hell didn’t ask for anything else.

But fate had it so many years ago, when she spotted the metallic purple bicycle with the banana seat. Her little girl heart couldn’t help but fall in love with it and begged her pappy for it. She’d never seen a bike with a banana seat and after he’d shared some fun childhood stories about having a similar bike when he was kid, she wanted it even more.

So her pappy told her to write a letter to Santa letting him know what she wanted with a warning
not
to tell mommy. She followed his instruction to a T wrote the letter and never said a word to mommy. It was nearing Christmas when her pappy left for his fishing run, her letter to Santa stuffed on his pocket with the promise to see it delivered. She was only five then, but when he never came back she lived with the guilt for a long time especially when Bart, the dock master had told her mother he had stayed out longer because he wanted to make sure he came in with a full quota so he could afford the bike little Kitty wanted for Christmas.

Of course Katianna knew better now than to think she was to blame for her pappy’s death just because she wanted a glittery bike for Christmas, but when you lose a family member you tend not to let go of those kinds of details either. And thus her mother’s rule of life—
you never ask for anything, you get what you get and you do the best you can with what comes to you
—fused its way on her brain and everyday life.

Katianna edged up on the bed, reaching out and brushed his hair from his face. He was dreaming, and he wasn’t too fond of the images lurking behind his eyes, she knew by the furrowing twitches across his brow—like sleeping with a headache.

She hated that she was the cause of all this and lyrics from a song she had been listening to over the past few days on one of the local rock stations came to mind, causing her heart to sink and mourn even deeper each time she heard it.

… I’m damaged goods
—
It’s only fair that I let you go
—
so if you still have feelings for me, swear it that you’ll never let me know
—

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

“So does that thing run?” Trenton pointed to the small center console boat tied to the back of the house boat she was renting.

“Yes.”

“Then what do you say we go spend the day out on the water.”

“Really?” She nearly choked as she chewed on the last bite of breakfast he gave her and to her surprise he allowed her to feed herself. The request came as a rather surprise since she figured the withdrawal of attentiveness was a sign of a conversation to come neither were going to enjoy. Her heart filled with warm excitement at the change of assumed plans. She’d been dreading the question he wanted to ask since he got up, but he made no approach of the subject, rather she woke up to a boat filled with the stomach teasing smell of eggs Benedict and bacon.
Yum.

Kat packed a quick bag of Florida necessities, sunglasses, sun block, bottled water, towels and some chips. Turned out Trenton had already packed a picnic basket and she had no idea where that came from.

She noticed the amusement in his expression as he watched her call in over the VHF for a radio check.

“This is channel sixteen returning radio check read you loud and clear. Marine report includes winds north-northwest less than seven knots; light chop; chances of late afternoon thunder showers. Radio check over stay safe
.
”

The broad grin he wore almost erased the pain from his eyes for a moment and he allowed himself to turn playful with her. Being up in New York caught in the city he’d just never taken it into consideration she would know her way on the water even knowing her father had been a commercial fisherman. It just wasn’t there in front of him to see. But how cute she looked going over the boat for an equipment check, for safety gear and the radio check. Even Diesel would have been proud, he certainly was.

Trenton powered up the mid size outboard motor while Katianna released the spring lines and gave them a push, “Okay there’s only one captain on this boat and that’s me.” She brushed up against him with every intention of taking over the wheel.

“You?” His brow went up in surprise with her bold claim for the wheel. “I’ll have you know I was a Second Lieutenant—that trumps Captain in my ranking.” He teased her, biting his tongue waiting to see if she’d call him out on that one, but it went right over her head.

“Yeah well not on my boat.” Her
priss
deflated, but she looked prepared to pull out her
pouting
powers on him if he tried to overrule her.

Trenton leaned in to nuzzle her cheek with a laugh, “Actually Captain is pretty high up there right along with Colonels and Generals.” He planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Oh.” But then her face drew down in a scowl, “Did you just try to bluff me?”

Trenton’s eyes filled with a hint of his arrogant Cheshire cat grin, begetting the devilish play and that just made her heat up. That warmth converging into an apex point between her legs, melting much of the anxiety that lingered between them.

“But I
can
argue that you don’t even have a driver’s license.” He added.

“And I don’t have to have one for a boat, not until five tons or a six pack requirement. Now shoo.” She waved him to move which he did little but scoot over, “Beside you don’t know where you’re going.” She added some restored
prissing
which got him to laugh. He was dying to know where this had come from.

Trenton had no intentions of being
shooed
away from her especially seeing her in the tan boy shorts that barely or rather
not at all
—kept the lower part of her dark, sun kissed globes hidden. Not helping was the backless white halter top that 5a considerable amount of skin exposed and available for his attentive nature. But back to her sweet little ass hanging out from her shorts—with all intensive purposes he wanted
those
firmly planted against him. He grabbed her quiet suddenly his hands gripping her hips and pulled her into his lap, holding her steady while his feet kicked hers out till she found the foot banister. He slid his hands up her ribs then down the length of her arms until his fingers tangled in with hers and he pushed them to grip the helm wheel. “Okay Skipper.” He pressed his lips to her ear. “But I want the full tour. Historic fish shack, lighthouses, dolphins, favorite hangout— the whole nine yards.”