Unbound; The Dominator III Read online

  I leaned in, “The fucker whose fault this was felt a whole lot of hurt before he left the world and descended to hell.”

  John barely blinked through that news. I squeezed his uninjured shoulder.

  “What can I do? What do you need, Johnny?”

  “It wasn’t fast?”

  “Nope. Real slow.”

  John swallowed.

  “What can I do?” I asked again.

  “You already did it. Thank you.”

  “Can I get you anything, call someone?”

  He shook his head. “My father’s on the way. He’ll help make… arrangements.”

  He kept shaking his head and shrugged, eyes looking off into space.

  I sat with him a while and then I told him I’d call him in a day or two but he should call me day or night if he needed anything. He barely nodded.

  I met with Ben after that, at his condo. He and Olive weren’t overly hurt physically, just a few scrapes like me, but they were devastated. Neither looked like they’d slept.

  The financial end wouldn’t sting too much; the place was well insured. Rebuilding of that end of the building could happen once the cops gave it the all clear, which might take some time due to their investigation. And then there would be a grand re-opening that would undoubtedly get good coverage from the press since the story had hit the national news.

  Olive was worried people would be afraid to come. Ben told her he had a good PR firm. Olive excused herself to say she wanted to call John’s house to talk to his mother again, who was there with the kids. Olive wanted to get John’s Dad’s cell so she could go to the hospital and offer her help from here.

  Ben and I talked and decided we’d reconvene in a few weeks, once John was ready to move forward. If he needed more time, I’d offer to be his proxy with the other partners, maybe. I’d do what I could to help him out.

  John’s situation weighed on me. Felt like too much weight to even consider. I couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like to be him but I just wanted to take Tia and shield her, shield her from the fucked-up world around us so that no one could take her from me.

  On my way out the door, I texted my brother again. I’d talked to him briefly on Skype a few hours earlier. He was in Thailand and I’d been vague but he knew the gist of what had gone down here. I was in the middle of sending the text when my phone rang. Zack Jacobs was calling.

  “Yo,” I answered.

  “Denarda?”

  “Naw, man, this is Tommy. Wrong number.”

  “Denarda? Status,” Zack had little patience.

  I didn’t give a fuckin’ shit.

  “What about him?”

  “What happened to him? He dead?”

  “I would know this information?”

  “Investigation is done, Tommy. We’ve got enough to prosecute him for Tessa and for a whack of underage porn that’ll be found in his home once the warrant is executed. I’m sure it wouldn’t take much to pin the explosions on him, too.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Fuck,” Zack grunted, “He’s dead. Isn’t he?”

  “Maybe if he is dead, he died knowing that the footnote about him will say he had a massive collection of kid porn. Maybe the guy that killed him whispered to the sick fuck what it’d say in the papers in his ear or somethin’. Not that I’d necessarily know about all that.”

  Zack didn’t reply.

  “Where are you?” I broke the long and loaded silence.

  “You know where I am.”

  He was in Thailand.

  “All right, let’s stop asking questions we both know the answers to. You want something else from me?“

  “Guess not at the moment.” Zack grumbled.

  “We need to talk about Romero when we’re all back home. You told my brother you’d go the extra mile to help him find his sister-in-law.”

  “And I did find her.” Zack said, “He won’t give her up and he’s untouchable.”

  “We’ll see about that. Meantime, you need to make sure that things go well for my brother and his wife, Zack. We don’t want her to have to get on the stand and re-live her nightmare and we sure as fuck don’t wanna change names.”

  “I’m doin’ what I can Tommy, but----”

  “Do more. Including thinking on how to help my brother out with his sister-in-law problem.”

  He was quiet.

  “Gimme a really fuckin’ good reason to put you on a list of strategic relationships that I won’t feel the need to end, Zack.”

  A beat of silence and then “Right.”

  I ended the call.

  Angel

  Dare and I were walking on the beach. I wasn’t wired so we had a minute alone. My other bathing suits were bugged, but I was wearing my one non-bugged bikini for this walk, per Dare’s directions on which one he wanted me to wear.

  I was still pushing away my emotions about being here, of course, but it felt good, it was kind of fortifying, to take a minute out of being at Kruna to come back to the only part of the place that only had associations of Dare.

  When we met, he brought me here, swam with me in his arms, on his back, built a sandcastle to occupy us and keep us away from the resort.

  I felt almost euphoric walking down the beach with him today and I gave him a beaming smile to show it. I think he read my mind because he smiled back and then pulled me into his arms and kissed me passionately and then undid my sarong and dropped it on the beach and lifted me by my thighs and wrapped my legs around his waist, walking into the water with me in his arms, a look of pure lust on his face.

  I knew he’d taken me to the beach on purpose. I’d told him back at home how great our walks on the beach here were for me.

  Home.

  I had a home. I had a home and family and a life. I had a husband who listened and gave me everything he could give me. More than I could ever dream of. I had friends. I met a girl named Shauna at my art classes that I’d gone for coffee with a few times. I’d gotten friendly with some of our neighbors in our building. I’d become close with my new sister-in-law, Tia. We had a lot in common and we hung out regularly. I liked Dare’s sisters, too. And Lisa. She didn’t trigger me. She bolstered my strength since she’d come back from her retreat. It was as if she was less broken.

  I wanted to get back there, get back to our life, our loved ones. We’d be home for Christmas. Only just, though. We would find a tree for the apartment. I wanted a real one. I also wanted to give that to Holly. Home, family, friends, me. I wanted her to know I was okay. Holly’s birthday was the day after Christmas. Was it possible that she would have a happy birthday, wherever she was?

  I made my thought process halt and redirected it away from Holly. I couldn’t think about Holly while I was at Kruna.

  We weren’t all that far from the resort, the people sitting on the patio could likely see us as they had a good view of the stretch of beach inside the gated property.

  “I love you,” he said into my ear. I wrapped my arms tighter around him and then we were submerged to his chest.

  “I love you, too.”

  “Good to see a smile. Haven’t seen one in days.”

  “This beach makes me smile. It’s our spot.”

  He went a few more paces so that I was covered by the water and then his mouth moved to my breast. He sucked on the flesh through my black bathing suit top.

  “Dare,” I breathed.

  “Things are gonna be kinda 1950’s vanilla in our suite in case they’re watching and because others are listening. Under the blankets, lights off. No one sees your beautiful body but me and you can’t talk your sweet sexy dirty talk, babe. But we have to keep fucking or if Kruna’s watching, they’ll get suspicious. This, here, this is a bit of a show, too, in case there are eyes on us. You okay with that?”

  “I’m always okay when I’m with you, Master,” I replied, arching my back and tightening my legs, “You could fuck me right in front of them if you wanted to and I’d only see you.”
/>   He slipped his hand underneath me and freed his cock from his trunks and then yanked the gusset of my bikini bottoms sideways so that he could get to me.

  “Likeminded. That’s what I have to look like,” he whispered, “So, if I have to do anything or say anything, you know. You know who I really am. Only you, Angel. You and me against them.”

  “I know,” I kissed his soft lips and had handfuls of his hair.

  “Baby,” he moaned as he moved inside me.

  “Oh yeah, baby,” I breathed.

  “This make you feel better about bein’ in the water?”

  “I could live in the water if I’m here with you,” I whispered, “I wanted this so badly last time we were here.”

  “So did I,” he admitted, “I fought those feelings but it didn’t take long before my resolve melted. I was powerless against you.”

  “Thank God for that bottle of vodka and zero self-control,” I whispered against his earlobe, smiled and gripped him tighter with my arms and with my inner walls.

  “Thank God,” he agreed and his grip on my hips tightened.

  He’d credited the vodka and no control the day after we’d had sex that first time.

  That was also his toast when we got married, in front of everyone. He thanked God for the gift of me and said he had to give a bit of credit to a big bottle of vodka and zero self-control.

  He finished inside me and I immediately wondered if he’d gotten me pregnant. I might actually be ovulating today. The idea of conceiving a baby here at Kruna had screwed with my head and so I hadn’t said anything to him about it because I didn’t want to think about the possibility we could make a baby here at Kruna.

  If I did get pregnant, it wouldn’t matter where but it might be kind of nice if it was here in the water instead of in that building. If I got pregnant this cycle, I’d think of this very moment as the moment of conception. Here, at our beach.

  We hung out for a while and then walked back along the beach to our room and got some smirks from Mr. Lucas from the patio. He’d definitely seen what we’d been up to.

  ***

  We were dressed for dinner and we were meeting in the small partner dining room; the same room we’d sat in the last time we were here for that formal dinner. At the table were Mr. Lucas and Mr. Delgado and there were slaves at their feet.

  Neither of the two men owned the slave that was at their feet, but Delgado practically lived here and Mr. Lucas had Kruna assets at home.

  It was beyond strange to sit at the table, at eye-level with them. I’d knelt through dozens of meals in this room on my sapphire blue pillow.

  “Serve Mrs. Ferrano as well, Mr. Ferrano?” the server asked.

  “Yes,” Dare had said, “Always. Please pass that along so I won’t have to keep repeating myself. She’s to be treated by everyone here with the same respect as I am treated.”

  “Absolutely.”

  No one batted an eye at that, or the impatient way he delivered it.

  When the server left, Mr. Delgado muttered, “Only one to treat your wife differently is you, am I right?”

  “You know it,” Dare said, putting my napkin across my lap without revealing anything, but his eyes did meet mine for a beat and they flashed with what anyone would’ve thought was lust and promise. I gave him a small coy smile and batted my eyelashes.

  Mr. Lucas cleared his throat and snickered, “Getting’ hot in here or is it just me?” He petted the head of his assigned slave and she obediently stayed in position.

  “It’s quite hot in here,” Mr. Chen said, arriving at that moment, taking in the room and the people in it with a sly grin on his face.

  ***

  We’d gotten through soup, salad, and half way through our main course of surf and turf (which wasn’t being adequately shared with the slaves, of course). Mr. Chen was talking to Dare like he was an old friend. Dare would seem, to most observers, that he was behaving the same way, but even though we had only been together a few months, I could see that he was pretending. It was all on the surface.

  His eyes were stone cold even when he was smiling or laughing at a joke. I’d seen him really smile, really laugh. This smiling was very different from that. These people would never get to see that side, the real side, of Dario Ferrano. My Dario.

  My Dare made jokes, he teased the people he loved, he loved a heated debate on a hot topic, he was competitive in a fun and teasing way, and although he could be super angry and broody, he definitely was what Tia had confided in me she’d thought of as “angry-hot” from when she’d first met Dare.

  Mr. Chen didn’t have a slave at his feet for the meal. At Mr. Delgado’s feet was a slave I’d never seen before. She was blonde, pixie pretty, tiny and perfectly obedient, getting hand-fed from his plate. Maybe she was my replacement.

  I didn’t allow myself to dwell on that. I couldn’t or else I’d show emotion that I couldn’t afford to show. I had to continue to show the Kruna powers-that-be that they’d made the right decision in choosing me for Dare. If I didn’t, it’d put him in danger. And he needed to be seen by the leadership team to be completely suitable for that role.

  The girl at Mr. Lucas’s feet was someone I was familiar with. Her name was Lulu. We weren’t really friends; most people avoided me to stay off Cleo’s bad side. Lulu and Truly were tight. She had been around longer than I had, but we knew one another.

  The meal moved at a snail’s pace but I just did what I was supposed to do. I was dressed in a flowy ivory sundress with straps over my shoulders and crisscrossed on my back. It had some cleavage but not too much. I had on my three-strand necklace, my wedding rings, and my hair had been flat ironed straight, with an iron we bought for this trip. I hadn’t been flat ironing. Dare liked it curly. Dare and I had thrown my iron down the garbage chute at home and I’d hated buying a new one.

  I kept eating and avoided direct eye contact.

  When it was over, Mr. Chen suggested that they move to a room for brandy and cigars. When we entered the Townsend room, I wanted to alert Dare that the Townsend room wasn’t a safe zone. It was often used for play, but I didn’t get a chance to find a way to subtly communicate that to him before we were inside.

  Dare held my hand and the other slaves followed behind their sirs, their eyes downcast. I guess it was muscle memory or something because my eyes automatically went down to the carpet and I stared at my toes as we walked.

  The Townsend room was a large library-like room done in dark woods with big burgundy and brown tufted leather club chairs as well as dark side tables with crystal lamps. There was a small semi-circle leather bar in the corner of the room that was manned by a server who would serve from selections of cigars or pipe tobacco with an assortment of fancy pipes. The server would also bring brandy, cognac, espresso, or fetch you some other drink.

  Each time I had been in this room had been to serve. Each time I’d been in this room I’d been on the rug.

  The men sat in an area with just four chairs so the two slaves moved to their feet and knelt.

  Dare stopped and looked around. There were other chairs on the far end of the room.

  Like nothing fazed him, he sat and pulled me onto his lap. He was cool and collected but his eyes exuded no warmth whatsoever. I knew he would go to great lengths to avoid me sitting or kneeling on the floor like a slave and I loved him for it, but I’d have knelt on broken glass for Dario Ferrano.

  They sat and talked like captains of industry for what felt like forever. Me on Dare’s lap, two slaves on the floor. He was on his third drink, maybe his fourth, when Mr. Chen brought up the topic of Cleo.

  “I understand Cleo has been misbehaving,” Mr. Chen said.

  A tiny dark-skinned African slave named Naomi entered the room and got to her knees at Mr. Chen’s feet. He reached for and pulled down his zipper while he gestured toward himself and kept talking, touching her mouth with his pinky finger. We all knew his gestures. He wanted her to give him head and he wasn’t going to have to
ask for it. Naomi moved in, knowing what Mr. Chen wanted.

  Dare didn’t flinch visibly but I felt him tense ever so slightly under me.

  “She’s acting like my wife’s still under her. She’s not taken Ruiz’s warnings, nor mine. I saw her skulking around, trying to intimidate my wife earlier, thinking I couldn’t see what she was doin’.”

  “I’ve had a word and had Cleo sent to a punishment room. She’s there until you’ve made a decision about what’s to be done.”

  “What are the options?” Dare asked, with interest, which surprised me but I didn’t allow it to show.

  Dare stroked my hair and touched his lips to my head. I snuggled in.

  Naomi now had Mr. Chen’s cock deep in her mouth and her head was bobbing.

  Dare’s eyes moved briefly down and then back up to Mr. Chen’s eye level. He gestured to the server to pour him another drink.

  “Whatever you want. You can punish her yourself, order her punished, give your Felicia the green light to punish her. It’s up to you. Having Felicia do it might bring about the best results.

  I felt myself jolt. I hadn’t meant to do that.

  “Would you like that, my baby?” Dare murmured into my ear.

  “Whatever pleases you, Master.” I whispered.

  “We’ll see.”

  “Less teeth, Naomi,” said Mr. Chen.

  “Sorry, Sir,” Naomi said, demurely, as demurely as one could expect, considering she had his cock in her hand.

  Dare cupped my chin and brought my mouth to his for a brief kiss.

  “As a patron and even more so, as a partner, Cleo is yours to command, as are all the Kruna assets. Make use of any of the assets any way you please, Dario,” Mr. Chen’s head rolled back and he seemed to really be getting into what Naomi was doing,

  He was more than partial to getting blowjobs but that was just his primer in this room. He was a man of habit and whenever in the Townsend room, he would get a warm-up when in a play room scenario such as this. I was concerned about the fact that this was how it’d started in here. This confirmed that it was what everyone, besides Dare, was here for. Play time. Would Dare be able to get us out before it got even more sordid?