The Possession (9 page)

She moaned as he continued to lick her and lap at her, groaning when he started the process all over again, sucking on her pussy as if he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Jack,” she gasped as he latched his mouth around her clit again and began suckling it. “Oh god Jack I can’t take anymore.”

But he didn’t stop. She thought he’d never stop. He licked at her and toyed with her, nibbled on her flesh and then sucked it like candy.

She came three more times before the thirty minutes was over. Three impossibly violent times during which each orgasm was stronger than the last.

By the time the thirty minutes had all but drawn to a close, at least fifteen men were surrounding the bed of pillows to watch. She heard the comments that were being made about her, heard too the fascination that seemed to run rampant with her nipples. They looked like lollipops one had said. No, like fat, stiff berries another had said.

She heard it all, but paid it little heed. By the time the announcer called the oral sex session over, by the time Jack raised his dark head from between her quivering thighs, she was aching and half-delirious, the violence of her orgasms leaving her as weak as an infant and breathing as raggedly as if she’d just run ten miles.

“Mine,” Jack murmured, causing her to seek out his gaze. “This pussy is all mine, baby.”

She closed her eyes, wondering what he meant by that. His tonight? His while she was on the island?

Or his forever?

She sighed, realizing how ridiculous her thoughts had become.

      
She didn’t know what to think when Jack entered the second contest. Afraid to hope it meant something more than lust, she decided not to think about it at all and to simply enjoy the remainder of the night—and Jack’s sexual awareness of her—at face value.

      
The second contest was pretty tame compared to the first one. Basically the men threw javelins and whoever threw theirs the furthest got to have a bunch of risqué photographs taken with the prize, the prize at this stage of the night being herself.

      
Truthfully, Kris was more hesitant about this contest than the first one. Not because she minded taking risqué photographs per se, but because she didn’t want any of these men to leave the island with potential blackmail material to lord over her. She couldn’t chance anyone at the university ever seeing photographs of her sprawled out all naked and oiled up on a clothed man’s lap.

      
Quite frankly she wasn’t altogether certain what she would do when the fifteen-minute photo session arrived. For the life of her she couldn’t figure out a graceful way to deny the winner of the contest his “winnings”.

      
When she saw Jack enter the contest, her hope renewed. She was pretty sure the javelin competition would be won by either him or Lauren, and if it was Jack who won it she had a better chance of talking him out of taking the photographs with her than she did with Lauren.

      
Propped up on her elbow as she reclined on another one of those harem pillow kinds of beds, Kris watched the javelin competition with keen interest. She bit her lip when it was Jack’s turn, and felt strangely proud of him when his javelin whizzed through the air and landed a yard further than the javelin of the man who had been in the lead.

      
“Why are you even in this competition?” she heard the displaced competitor grumble as he stalked off. “You just ate the slut’s pussy out thirty minutes ago.”

      
She tensed up when she saw Jack’s nostrils flare, and worried for a long moment that he might do something rash to defend her honor. She could tell he didn’t like the fact that the loser had called her a slut anymore than she had liked it. The knowledge that Jack cared enough to become protective of her was heady indeed, but she didn’t want him brawling and possibly hurting the guy either.

      
Kris nibbled on her lower lip as she watched Jack prowl towards the man, then blew out a breath of relief when the contest’s announcer came between the two of them and calmed the situation down.

      
She watched for the next fifteen minutes as ten more competitors tried to outdistance Jack with their throwing arms. She could have sworn she’d seen his muscles tense up a couple of times when the javelins of two different competitors had come close enough to warrant a measuring stick being brought out and, again, had to wonder at it.

      
Stop reading more into his every gesture than is there, idiot! Just enjoy the night and his attention while it’s still yours.

      
Lauren was the final competitor. Kris’ heart raced as the handsome Frenchman’s javelin went whizzing through the air, further and further, and—

      
Her eyes widened as she waited like the others for the measuring stick to be brought out.
Oh good lord
, she thought anxiously, her belly knotting,
I’ll never be able to talk Lauren out of taking those photos. Please tell me Jack won!

She swallowed roughly when the announcer said something that sent Jack into a rage. Her heart was beating so fast and so furiously that she could barely make out the words being angrily shouted back and forth between Jack and Lauren with the announcer trying to calmly intervene between the two men.

“There’s no way this dick tied me!” Jack bellowed, his jaw clenched hotly. “No way in the hell!”

“Alor!” Lauren shouted back, his muscles clenching. “Zuh measure stick does not lie!”

“Zuh measure stick does not lie,” Jack mimicked in a really bad French accent, his eyes rolling around comically. Kris stifled the urge to grin.

Jack slashed his hand through the air. “Hell yes it lied and I want a rematch!”

“Sir,” the announcer said calmly. “You’ve both won. What’s the big deal? Both of you get your prize so calm down.”

“I do not,” Jack said distinctly, his words precise, “share.” His nostrils flared. “Ever.”

Lauren folded his arms across his chest. One arrogant eyebrow rose mockingly. “Apparently tonight you do,” he murmured.

Kris bit her lip when she saw Jack’s jaw clench. He looked dangerous right now. Gloriously, arousingly dangerous.

When both men were led up to where she was lounging on the harem pillows she shifted her gaze hesitantly toward a very pissed off Jack. She thought back on last night when they’d mutually masturbated each other in the tiki bar and took a deep breath.

His dark eyes were serious, brooding. His drenched, callused fingers left her pussy, then trailed up to play in her glistening triangle of dark red curls. “Don’t let another man touch your cunt,” he warned her. “I mean it, Krissy. I couldn’t handle it.”

Kris’ head shot up at the sound of the announcer’s voice.

“You’re going to take photos with Mr. Thibauld first,” the announcer said under his breath to her. “Let’s hurry up and get it over with so the grizzly bear doesn’t cause any more trouble.”

She expelled the breath she’d been holding in and nodded as she rose to her feet. “On the lounging chair?” she asked quietly, her heart racing. She was afraid she was about to give Lauren Thibauld blackmail material to hold over her, but even that worry paled in comparison to what she feared Jack might do as a result of this. He wouldn’t physically harm her, she knew, but what if he refused to speak to her again?

And why should she care? Good lord the man was driving her insane! She didn’t even recognize her own thought processes anymore, she thought grimly.

“Ah, there you are, ma chere,” Lauren said on a grin as his eyes raked over her naked, oiled up body. “I would have rather won the last contest, but I will settle for what I can get. Tonight anyway.”

Which meant he planned to bid on her tomorrow.

Would Jack bid on her too? she asked herself nervously, afraid to make eye contact with him, or was all now lost?

As if it’s your fault! As if Jack cares about you as a person anymore than Lauren does!

She didn’t know if her mental musings were the truth or not, only that she needed to bolster herself with such thoughts to get through the next fifteen minutes of photos with Lauren without grieving over what might be lost with Jack. And if Lauren planned to bid on her, well, it didn’t hurt to have him see her in a positive light. After all, she’d be in his hut for three solid days if he won the auction, and more or less at his mercy for the remainder of the island excursion. The last thing she needed was for the Frenchman to be angry with her. But if she let Lauren touch her between the legs as he’d be expecting to do…

Good lord, what a dilemma.

You’re the one who wanted to get a life
, she grimly reminded herself.
Well congratulations because you’ve got one in spades!

Lauren was dressed in costly, tailor made clothing, his cologne as expensive in scent as his attire. She hesitantly crawled up into his lap, tensing momentarily when she felt his erection pressing against the confines of his tweed trousers, then forcibly relaxed and plastered a smile on her face.

Lauren’s gaze drank in her nude body, his eyes heavy-lidded. “You have a beautiful smile, ma chere.” He placed his hand on her thigh and began gently massaging it as his gaze dropped down to her chest. “And exquisite breasts,” he murmured. “I cannot wait until zuh auction is over and you are mine.”

She didn’t need to look at Jack to know that the Frenchman’s words, coupled with the fact it was inevitable Lauren would touch her intimately, had made his muscles tense up. She could sense his physical reaction even with her face turned away from him.

Lordy, lordy.

She cleared her throat, smiling at Lauren as he continued to stroke her thigh. She could hear the photographer snapping photos, ceaseless camera clicks making her all the more nervous.

Against her volition, she felt the beginnings of arousal stir in her belly and felt oddly guilty for it. But she was sitting naked on a clothed man’s lap, she mentally excused herself, and the chill in the night air was making her nipples stand erect…

When the tip of Lauren’s index finger gently grazed the peak of one of her stiff nipples and flicked it, she drew in a shaky breath. She could practically hear Jack’s teeth gritting and wasn’t certain what to do.

You’re a prostitute to Lauren. And to Jack. Try to remember that, Kris.

“C’est vrai,” Lauren whispered thickly. “I will play with your gorgeous nipples for three full days, ma chere.”

Thankfully he didn’t try to touch her breasts again, but then the fingers of one of his hands slowly began trailing down her belly, toward the place Jack had warned her about. “And,” he said hoarsely, “I will fuck your cunt all day and night.”

She panicked when she heard Jack mutter something belligerent. Her hand flew to cover Lauren’s a fraction of a second before it would have dropped to her pussy. “I’m a bit shy,” she said in a nervous rush. Her breasts heaved when she took a deep breath. “Can’t we wait until tomorrow, daddy?”

Kris watched his eyes narrow in desire and knew then and there that Elizabeth had been right about Lauren. He liked for prostitutes he bought to pretend they were little girls. If he successfully purchased her at the auction tomorrow, then, according to Elizabeth, he’d make her shave her pussy and wear her hair in pigtails for the entire three days they spent together.

Lauren’s eyelids were so heavy they almost looked closed. “Daddy will have to punish you tomorrow for making him wait,” he murmured, his erection growing. “But you will like that, n’est pas?”

She wet her lips, wondering what he meant by punishment. Perhaps this game was more advanced than she’d bargained for. “Yes,” she hesitantly replied, forcing a dimpled smile onto her face.

“Then we will wait,” he said thickly. He cleared his throat. “Now then, turn around on daddy’s lap and spread your legs wide apart for zuh camera. Bon. What a good girl you are, ma chere. Daddy will hold you while you stroke your pussy for zuh camera.”

She could feel Jack tensing up impossibly further, though she still refused to look at him to visually confirm it. And yet as angry as he was, her sixth sense also told her that he was arrogantly pleased by the fact that she’d purposely found a way to keep Lauren from touching her intimately. With the exception of one slight graze to her nipple, he hadn’t gone as far as either of them had thought he would.

Jack might not be happy with the fact that Lauren’s arms had come around her from behind so his hands could massage her belly, the tips of his fingers occasionally finding the beginning of her dark red triangle, but he was satisfied that she’d thwarted the Frenchman from playing in her pussy or fondling her breasts any further than he already had.

Kris masturbated herself on Lauren’s lap, his soft groans telling her he could see what she was doing by watching a television-like screen that showed what was happening from the front. She carefully kept her head averted the entire time, concealing her facial features from the forever-snapping camera.

When she finally came, she did so on a soft groan, her nipples stiffening as her head fell back on Lauren.

“Bon fille,” he murmured in her ear. “Good girl.”

She closed her eyes and sighed, relieved when the announcer told Lauren his fifteen minutes were up. She plastered a smile on her face as she rose up from his lap, still refusing to look at Jack.

Lauren inclined his head to her. His eyes raked over her nipples, over her cunt. “See you tomorrow, beautiful.” And with that he winked and strolled away.

Kris blew out a breath, relieved. But then moments later her body stiffened when she heard the announcer tell Jack he could take the seat Lauren had vacated.

Hesitantly, she lifted her gaze to Jack, watching as he slowly prowled towards her. He looked so sexy in his perfectly fitted denim jeans and black t-shirt that the mere sight of him made butterflies swim in her belly.

He came to a standstill before her, his nostrils flaring and his jaw clenched as his dark gaze bore into hers. “I’m feeling mighty dangerous right now, sweetheart,” he drawled.

She blew out a breath. “But I stopped him from—”

“I know,” he gritted out in a voice that sounded surprisingly pained. “But he almost touched your—”

“But he didn’t,” she said quickly and placatingly. She sighed, at a loss for what to say. “What could I do, Jack? I…”

“Make it up to me,” he gritted out. “Goddamn it, Krissy, logically I know the way I feel isn’t your fault, but I still need you to make it up to me.”

Her eyes flew up to meet his. She took a calming breath. “This is getting very complicated,” she whispered.
And very confusing
, she mentally added.

“Make it up to me.”

She nibbled on her lower lip. “What do you want me to do?” she heard herself ask, if a bit hesitantly.