Chapter 8 #2
No cameras in the dungeon, of course. That was firm, a line Ms. Leighton would never cross, but she was curious.
Progress with someone as armored as Ruthi Shay was never linear.
It was likely to be two steps forward, one step back.
She leaned back in her chair, the leather creaking quietly beneath her.
Outside, the wind rattled the palm fronds against the high windows.
The day had gone as well as she had hoped.
Small disasters, a few sparks, a little drama and a little laughter.
All the raw materials of transformation.
Setting her tablet aside, Ms. Leighton folded her glasses and pressed her fingertips together in thought.
Tomorrow, perhaps, she would engineer a moment for Kel.
A gentle push. A little chaos, just enough to force a choice.
She smiled to herself. The Isle of Dreams delivered on its promises, but sometimes, even dreams needed a touch of orchestration.
The sound of water running was louder than it should’ve been.
Madeline blinked, trying to orient herself in the half-dark.
She was in her suite, she knew that. The white sheets tangled around her thighs, the subtle scent of plumeria drifting through the open balcony door.
But the bathroom door was open, steam curling out, and someone was inside. Not only inside. Showering.
Confused, Madeline’s heart thudded as she slipped out of bed and moved to look in the bathroom.
She caught a silhouette and realized it was Kel’s shape behind the glass, strong and lean, the lines of her back and thighs blurred by mist. She shouldn’t be seeing this.
She should look away. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.
Every nerve in her body sparked alive, a slow, pulsing ache radiating outward from her core.
The water stopped. Madeline’s breath caught as Kel stepped out, droplets tracing the sharp lines of her shoulders, her skin flushed pink from the heat. She looked at Madeline and for the first time, Madeline saw there was nothing careful or reserved in her eyes. Just hunger. Just want.
“You’re still awake,” Kel said, voice huskier than Madeline had ever heard before.
“I, um, couldn’t sleep,” Madeline managed, her own voice barely more than a whisper.
She backtracked across the room, her camisole going askew, baring one shoulder.
Kel followed. When she was close enough that their bodies almost touched, she cupped Madeline’s jaw, thumb tracing her cheek, and kissed her.
Soft at first, then deeper, needier, like she’d been holding this in for years.
Madeline gasped into Kel’s mouth, the sensation electric, her hands finding their way to Kel’s waist, sliding up warm, damp skin.
Kel tasted like heat and desire and something Madeline wanted to drown in.
She pressed closer, against Kel who was naked.
Gloriously, confidently naked. Madeline’s hands shook as she touched her hips, her back, the curve of her ass, every inch smooth and real and impossibly right.
Kel’s mouth found her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder, nipping and soothing, and Madeline arched into her, desperate for more.
“Is this okay?” Kel murmured against her skin, fingers slipping under the strap of Madeline’s camisole.
“Yes. God, yes.” Madeline’s raw voice shocked her, now urgent, with no trace of old hesitation.
Her clothes disappeared. She didn’t remember how, but suddenly her camisole was gone, her panties too, and Kel’s hands were everywhere.
Palming her breast, tracing the line of her thigh, sliding between her legs.
Madeline trembled as Kel’s mouth devoured her own, tongues tangling, kissing her until Madeline thought she might come apart simply from that.
She moaned into Kel’s mouth and Kel swallowed it with another kiss.
Madeline’s world narrowed to the feeling of Kel’s body pressing her down, the heat of skin on skin, the way Kel’s name tasted on her tongue. She realized she was already close, her body arching, hips rolling, chasing that bright, impossible edge—
A knock, sharp and insistent at the door. Madeline froze. Kel stilled above her, eyes wide, breath hot against Madeline’s lips. The knock came again, louder. “Madeline?”
The room shifted. The air changed. Suddenly, Madeline was alone in the bed, sheets clinging to her sweat-damp skin, heart racing, breath coming in frantic little gasps. The bathroom was empty, door half-shut, no steam, no Kel. Only the echo of her own pulse pounding in her ears.
Someone knocked again. “Madeline? Are you up?”
She staggered to her feet, legs trembling, crossing to the door on autopilot.
She opened it to find Kel standing in the hallway, fully dressed in her usual crisp linen shirt and tailored shorts, hair still damp but combed back, glasses on, and concern etched on her face.
“You okay?” Kel asked. “You weren’t answering your phone.
Breakfast is in fifteen minutes. I figured I’d come see—”
Madeline swallowed, heat flooding her cheeks, every inch of her body still throbbing with the ghost of the dream. She tried to speak, but her voice caught. Kel’s eyes softened, a little crease forming between her brows, as her eyes flicked down Madeline’s half-dressed body.
“Madeline?”
“I… yeah. Sorry. I... overslept,” Madeline said. The lie tasted strange. She still felt Kel’s hands, her lips, and the wild, dizzying rush of want.
Kel smiled. “You sure? You look a little—”
“Fine,” Madeline said, too quickly. “Just need coffee. Lots of coffee.” Realizing she was in nothing but her camisole and very damp panties, Madeline stepped back.
“Let me get dressed. I’ll be right out.” Closing the door, Madeline tried to steady her breathing, tried to shake off the dream, but every heartbeat made her more aware of the ache between her thighs, and the truth blooming in her chest. She wanted Kel.
She wanted her in a way she’d never let herself admit, not until now.
And now that she’d tasted it, even in sleep, she wasn’t sure she could ever let it go.