Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve) (77 page)

“What if—”

“What if?” he cut in, muscles finally relaxing as he moved between my thighs, powerful features boring into me. “Then I want to have you one last time.”

He pushed back inside me and I surrendered. The white flag was thrown. There was nothing but this feeling, this bliss. My fingernails raked down his back and his moans silenced everything else but this. We didn’t use words. He didn’t give commands. We just lost ourselves in each other like it was our last time.

And then the plane was still. Smooth. Like the calm after the storm.

The intercom above us blared to life.

“Hello folks. We hit some choppy air, but I think we’re through the worst of it. Sorry for any inconvenience.”

I looked at Jacob and saw a flash of worry that he hid away with a chuckle. “I knew we’d be fine.”

****

N
othing could have prepared me for the water.

I’d seen pictures, movies set in the Caribbean. The water always seemed impossibly clear. Unattainably beautiful. Right outside of the small charter plane window turquoise colored water stretched as far as the eye could see. After the turbulence from the jet, I didn’t even mind the way the small plane trembled as the pilot steered us toward the landing strip on Mustique Island. I was too busy trying to wrap my mind around the fact that we were thousands of miles away from the city. From drama and all the things that kept me and Jacob apart. It was like a whole other world.

I reached over and interlaced my fingers between Jacob’s and butterflies danced in my stomach when he winked at me before returning to the conversation on his cell. He was using his ‘Mr. Whitmore’ voice, the one he reserved for business and when he wanted things done his way—or else.

I stepped off the plane, inhaling deep as I took in the island. Mustique Island was privately owned and located in the center of St. Vincent and the Grenadines. Lush green vegetation surrounded me, the smell of flowers and tropics creating a fragrance that I wanted to bottle and keep forever. It was a smell unlike anything I’d ever experienced. When a Mercedes eased up the runway and Jacob handed our pilot several crisp hundred dollar bills and the man barely flinched, the smell of something else hung in the air: money.

Mustique was known for its exclusivity and as a vacation spot for the affluent. Curious, I’d pulled up the island’s website on the plane and besides two small boutique hotels that charged nearly one thousand dollars a night, the island boasted sprawling villas that cost as much as some Americans made in a year—for a week’s stay.

There was nothing blatantly ostentatious about the Mercedes that picked us up plane side; I didn’t buckle myself in with a diamond encrusted seatbelt. But it was the fact that there was no one else on the strip besides the pilot and a few airport attendees that reminded me that this wouldn’t be my Mother’s Caribbean vacation. I felt like we had the whole island to ourselves.

My life would never be the same. When most people wanted to escape they went on an overnight trip. When I said I wanted to escape, my fiancé put us on a plane and rushed us to the Caribbean.

I was going to get my beach wedding.

“Are you alright?” Jacob asked, picking up on my silence.

“I’m on a private island in the Caribbean.” I gestured out the window at the first people I’d seen since we landed, an older couple with a market basket and expressions like they didn’t have a care in the world “It’s...” I stopped, my chest tightening.

“A little overwhelming?” he finished for me, reading my nervousness despite the smile I wore, showing literally every tooth in my mouth. “It’s okay to be overwhelmed. Our reason for coming here...” He trailed off and I dropped the grin, suddenly very aware of the fact that I wasn’t too fond of him equating any other emotion other than excitement with our situation.

A little bit of a hypocrite, huh Lay?
“You’re nervous.”

He pushed his shades up, like he was catching the mask before it fell away. “Nervous? Not exactly.” His eyes were shielded but I could see the nerve in his jaw ticking. “Maybe slightly. But not about making you my wife. I just want to make sure that the ceremony is...worthy of you. I want it to be something you remember for the rest of your life.” He paused as the phone in his hand dinged and his jaw tightened. “Fondly.”

I put my hand over his before he answered it and gave the poor sap on the other end a piece of his mind. “Even if the driver pulled to the side of the road right now and we got married in the backseat, I’d love it. You moved heaven and earth to get me away from the city and the paparazzi—”

“—and my mother?” he said with a chuckle.

“
Our
mothers,” I clarified. Sure, if there was an Aggravation Olympics, Alicia would win hands down, but having Mom berate me and force my hand wasn’t much better. It was just another form of control.

I pushed aside the bumble of nerves that occupied my stomach and looked straight at the one person that made it all worth it. “This is all I wanted, Jacob. You are all I wanted.”

His smile deepened as he stroked my cheek. “I love you, Leila.”

I scooted closer to him. “Love you too.” As soon as I closed my eyes I began making  a mental checklist of all the things I didn’t have.
Like a dress. Or anyone to do my hair. Or shoes. And what about—

I stopped. Was this what wedding jitters felt like? It was hard to tell because I’d been questioning whether I belonged in Jacob’s world since he first asked me to be a part of it. And I wanted to be in his life. I wanted this to be something he remembered always; not the stress nor having to cuss out custom officials to make sure the marriage was official.

Cut it out.
I ordered myself, focusing on his hand in mine. Focusing on the oasis right outside my window.
He loves you. You love him. Everything else is static.
I thought happy thoughts as the car pulled up a hill that overlooked a cliff, water crashing into the sand. We pulled into a cobblestone driveway, stopping at a wrought iron gate. The driver leaned out the window and punched in the access code and the gates retracted. The terrain was steep and ropey tree limbs with thick, bushy leaves obscured the view on both sides. There was a small clearing and the cobblestone ended, leading up to a jagged walking path.

The car eased to a stop beside the nicest golf cart I’d ever seen. It took me a second to realize that Jacob wanted me to get out and I scrambled to join him, eyeing the tiny vehicle as he pulled the suitcases from the trunk of the Mercedes. I realized my first guess was wrong. It was a little too sleek and round to be a golf cart. It was one of those electric cars that one kept an eye out for when parking creatively downtown. But it was definitely the Bentley of electric cars with glossy red paint and dark leather seats.

The driver smiled at me, speaking in thick, accented English. “Called a mule.”

“A mule?” I answered, skimming my fingers on the metal frame. “It’s the nicest mule I’ve ever seen.”

I walked to a low hanging branch, bright pink flowers as delicate as the breeze glittering in the sun. I plucked one and spun it between my pointer and thumb before sweeping my hair behind my ear and perching it against the pushed back curls. Jacob slid behind the wheel and I scooted into the seat beside him, clutching the sidebar as he reversed, then the small car jerked forward up the hill. The strip of fabric meant to be a seatbelt was what I held onto for dear life as we skittered up to the house. Mule? The thing was closer to a golf cart on steroids.

I didn’t even mind that he swerved a bit near the end, locking eyes with me and catching my reaction. I stepped out of the mule, hesitating as I gazed at the open front door, down through the front entryway and out to the sea.

“Jacob...” I moved closer, eyeing the beautiful tile work that led up to the house, the rustic, yet classic lines of the hardwood exterior entryway. It had such a lived in, casual elegance from the built in shelving to the chic white furniture.

The island was the star of the show. Everything was bright, lush and tropical. I felt like I was in paradise when I stepped out on the back deck. The crystal pool opened up to a sky as blue as the water that flowed past the horizon.

“What do you think?” Jacob came up behind me, wrapping me in a warm embrace as he drew me close to his chest.

“It’s incredible.” I gripped his arms and did a bonafide happy dance. “I can’t believe I’m here with you.”

He leaned down and kissed my cheek as I felt another part of him stir. “You know the first thing we have to do?”

I had a pretty good idea, but I played dumb, spinning around and bringing one arm up, then the other. “What’s that?”

He swept my hair back then brought his fingertips back to my face, skimming my jaw line and sending sparks through me. “Make every area of this place ours.”

My breath came ragged, my body already onboard. His to command. His to do with as he wished.

I managed to perk and eyebrow and play coy in spite of the overwhelming desire to jump him. “Every area on Mustique?”

His eyes flashed as the side of his mouth twitched and he brought his hands down until they dropped on my fly. “I like ambition.” He brought the zipper down in one single pull. “How about we start with the villa?”

I turned my mouth up to his. His mouth was warm and hungry as I loosened his belt and fly, thankful that it wasn’t an obstacle to be conquered. Everything was easier here, my anxieties relaxing and letting him strip me down and he followed suit. I imagined a four poster bed with sheer mosquito netting draped luxuriously around each post, but he didn’t take me back indoors.

I watched him stride toward the pool’s edge, a living statue of muscle and sin. I could literally watch him walk back and forth, buck naked and come without even touching myself. But once he submerged himself in the water and gave me a look, I knew it wasn’t going to be that easy...and I had to force myself to maintain my composure and not bolt into his arms and cannonball into the water.

I loved the way the air felt on me. I loved the way his eyes felt on me. Touching, lingering without lifting a finger.

I found my way down the stairs. The weight of the water coated me as he took my hand and stopped me on the bottom step.

“Right here.”

I frowned. “Here?” I bit my lip. “On the steps?” His movements answered me as he lowered me down. My bottom made contact with the slick surface and he came forward, spreading me. He drew his cock up and down my opening until I found myself lifting my hips and pleading with my eyes.

“You want me inside you.”

There was no holding back the moan when he thrust inside me, a single, piercing thrust before he slid out, tempting my entrance again. Waiting for my answer.

“Yes.” I breathed deeply. “I need you inside me.”

His eyes were as blue and soothing as the water as moved in me. Skin to skin. Heart to heart.

His fingertips caressed my wet skin, tugging at my nipples until he could wait no longer. He drove into the water and gripped my bottom, drilling deeper, harder, eyes no longer soothing but fierce and wild.

He balanced my bottom with one hand, using the other to find my clitoris and rotated his thumb around it slowly and quickly. The speed, his hands, our bodies built to a maddening pitch.

“I’m so close,” I gasped, arching up as I felt my toes curl and the electricity of the orgasm close enough to light me up from head to toe.

“Come,” he said thickly, his thrusts more demanding, his face contorting with his own proximity to bliss, everything taut and feral as I felt the warmth of him filling me.

Paradise. It was more than this Caribbean escape. Heaven was in his arms.

Heaven was Jacob.

****

"L
eila?"

I twisted in the covers, the soft Egyptian cotton too perfect to give up. "Five more minutes, Jacob." I figured he'd be more than a little understanding considering he was the reason I was so exhausted in the first place.

The pool had been just the beginning. He took me on the stairs, then up against the side with my legs on his shoulders, showing me I was much more flexible than I gave myself credit for. We'd barely made it back inside the house before I got to see the craftsmanship of the travertine tiles up close and personal. And then there was washing up. Water raining around me beneath the rain fall shower head—with his head between my thighs.

The room came in focus, but I squeezed my eyes shut. I let out a groan and flipped the other way.

"Leila?"

My eyes flew open. That wasn't Jacob's voice. I lurched from the bed, yanking the sheets to my chest. I wasn't naked to the world since I'd pulled on a tank at some point in the night, but I was close enough considering there was some strange woman standing in the doorway.

She didn't seem threatening, standing in the door with a mug in her hand. She had to be barely five feet with a petite frame to match. Her features were angular and accentuated by a pageboy haircut and white blond hair. She wore a heather gray Ramones T-shirt, cut off denim shorts and cowboy boots. She obviously wasn’t there to steal my clothing because I could tell just from looking at her she was more fashion conscious than my wardrobe could provide. Not to mention my clothes would swallow her tiny frame whole.

She arched a single eyebrow, intensely blue eyes taking me in warily.

I would have put a hand on my hip if that meant not releasing the cover. She was an intruder. I’d be doing all the glaring, thank you very much.

I came forward a step, balling the sheet in my fist and trying to seem more threatening than I really felt.

"I don't know who you are, but my husband-" I paused, surprised by the word coming out my mouth so effortlessly. At first I thought it was because I was frightened and somehow, husband sounded better than fiancé. But it felt so natural on my tongue, even if it wasn't exactly true.

The woman walked to the mahogany dresser near the door and lowered the mug. "I’m Naomi. Mr. Whitmore is finalizing the wedding plans.” Her voice had an Australian lilt. “He sent me here to show you the dress options and help you decide on a bouquet and hair." The sides of the woman's mouth curled upward in amusement. "Relax. I'm here to help." She gestured at the cup. "It's fresh.” She snapped her fingers, and fished a note out of her pocket, dropping it beside the coffee. “Why don't I let you get dressed and you can meet me in the sitting room? A friend of yours is waiting to video chat-"