Chapter 29 – Serena
Markos didn’t follow me upstairs. He removed his jacket and tie, handed me the keys, and walked under the condo to the beach beyond.
I thought about following him, forcing him to see reason.
Instead, I hurried to the condo, where I ripped the gown from my body and shoved both the designer garment and jewels in a trash bag.
Then I took a scalding shower where I scrubbed my skin raw.
An hour passed, and still the condo was empty.
Taking the trash out and dumping it in the shoot, I ventured down to the sand in search of my pirate.
He’d had time to cool off, and I now knew what to say to make things right.
It took a bit of searching, but he wasn’t far.
A pillar of stone, he stood guard on the beach, staring at the waves while the surf washed over his feet.
“We need to talk,” I began, hating the tremor in my voice. I paused to clear it. “I messed up, and I’m sorry, Markos.”
There was no response. The wind whipped across the shore, wild and echoing our raging emotions. I stopped beside him, but I wasn’t brave enough to reach out and touch.
“Markos, come upstairs and let’s talk,” I insisted.
A muscle in his jaw flexed. His face, all harsh lines and hard edges, was a thing of terrible beauty. My heart ached to see the anger sketched over the otherwise perfect work of art.
“Please,” I whispered. “Forgive me.”
“I ought to punish you,” Markos growled, swiping a hand through his hair.
I stepped in front of him, gaze clashing with his. “So do it,” I dared.
In the dark, it was impossible to tell where the blue of his irises ended, and the black of his soul began. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Yes, I do.” My lips were dry. I wet them before taking a steadying breath. “I’m asking to restore the balance.”
Markos let out a Greek expletive.
I held out my hand. “Do what you will, your captive is at your mercy.”
Instead of taking my hand and lacing his fingers in mine, he gripped my wrist. With a sharp tug, he jerked me against his body.
“What I’m about to do to you isn’t for the faint of heart. If at any point you don’t like something, you tell me, and I’ll stop immediately.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
That word was barely a whisper.
“I’m serious, Serena. I need your complete and utter trust, or this is never going to work,” he growled.
Maybe it was a trick of the dark, but I swore this monster had fangs where his teeth should have been.
“You have it, pirate.”
In one fluid motion, Markos snatched me around the waist and hoisted me over his shoulder as if I weighed no more than a pillow. I laughed softly, a breathless noise of anticipation.
He hauled me back up the beach, carried me up the thirteen flights of stairs, and didn’t set me down until we were back in the bedroom.
He hadn’t broken a sweat. He wasn’t even winded.
The only light came from the kitchen, the condo heavy with shadows.
For the first time since being here, I saw this space in a new light.
It wasn’t a home, despite my efforts to redecorate.
This space was a lair, and I was finally at the mercy of the monster who dwelled here.
“Stay here.” His words were full of a delicious promise, dark and with the smallest hint of danger. They made me shiver more than any gentle, tender caress.
Rummaging in the closet, he produced a length of rope. My heart thumped wildly, only guessing what he would do with that.
“This will tear your skin if you struggle. I’ll be careful, but just know it’s not meant to hurt you—badly.” Markos explained, coming back to me. He ran the end through his fingers.
“Okay,” I breathed. It seemed the only word I was capable of forming.
“Take off your clothes.” His voice was the texture of gravel. “Lift your hair and keep your hands up.”
I obeyed.
The rope was rough against my skin. Nothing about this night was tender, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. Markos was willing to show me his darkest parts. It felt only right that I experience every sensation that way.
My pirate drew the rope across my ribs and worked a knot.
Those deft fingers were quick and efficient.
It was an art to watch them work. Once it was secure, he began to move around me, draping the length strategically across my body.
The nerves on my skin came alive with little sparks as Markos wrapped the rope first under my breasts, around my back, then over the tops.
He moved back to my front, crossed the cord, and created an X—marking the spot.
It was tight, restricting my movements and my breath.
Each time it bound a new place, it stripped my control.
I was vulnerable, at his mercy, and yet in this exchange I found a new intimacy in the sensual act.
There was no room for hesitation, not that I felt any.
The only thing coursing through my veins was white-hot desire.
That emotion pulsed between us, and I knew he felt it too.
Like an erotic magic.
Markos moved around me several more times, creating an intricate pattern across my chest and torso. My breasts strained from the pressure around them. They were full, squeezed from the binding. And they ached from lack of attention!
Patience.
I was certain that this was by design. The build of pleasure was too keen to be mere chance. My nipples perked, painful and needy. I had to bite my tongue not to whimper a plea that the pirate give them some attention, relieve the ache just a little.
Markos slid his knife from the sheath on his calf.
The muscles deep in my core tightened. It was not a sane reaction to seeing such a sharp, lethal weapon. But I trusted him.
With a quick, efficient stroke, he cut the rope. Placing the blade between his teeth, he tied it off. My pussy pulsed greedily to see the pirate in his element.
But relief was still far away.
Markos scooped me up and tossed me onto the bed. My back landed with a soft thump on the mattress. My inhale was a stilted gasp.
Speaking around the knife, Markos growled, “Bend your knees. Hands by your ankles.”
I dropped my hands to my side. Tangled strands of hair fell over my face, but I didn’t dare reach back up to brush them away.
Markos prowled forward, bending over the bed to secure first my right, then my left side. Once each length was cut, he finished by wrapping the rope across my upper arms, under my back, and back over the front until I couldn’t move.
Leaning back, he examined his handiwork. I felt more than saw the raw look come over his face.
“Fucking beautiful. You’re doing so well, Serena,” he rasped as he slid his blade back into its sheath.
Under the heavy weight of his stare, I lay there, exposed and open to him. Markos trailed a touch over my knee, urging it to the side.
“Spread for me, prinkípissa. Let me see you.”
Breath caught in my throat, I did as he commanded. Open was the only direction I could part my legs. His growl of approval sent a bolt of heat through me.
“Do you know how fucking beautiful you are? The way your hair is tangled around you, the way you lie there and show me how much you trust me?”
I shook my head, succeeding only in making the strands drape further over my vision.
His touch trailed lower, skating across my inner thigh. I inhaled slowly, bracing for his touch. I wanted him to know how wet he’d made me.
But the relief never came.
Markos stepped back, shucking his shirt over his head.
I couldn’t see from this angle what he was doing but the whisper of fabric suggested he’d removed his pants as well.
A tense moment passed. The anticipation was going to kill me.
It would probably be a more merciful death than the agony of unrelieved tension in my body.
Slowly, with deliberate steps, Markos came around the side of the bed and sat. He stared at me, soaking in the sight of my bound flesh. When I thought I would combust, he reached out and brushed the tip of his finger over my breast.
The contact was electric.
The plump flesh sparked and crackled at the attention. When his fingers danced over my straining peak, I nearly sobbed. I was unable to move into his touch, to demand that he relieve the ache in my nipple.
“Please,” I begged.
Such a small word. But the moment it left my lips, I understood. This was what I’d been reduced to, the only way to make my captor do anything was to plead with him.
Markos chuckled darkly. The triumphant sound confirmed he acknowledged my realization. But he wasn’t cruel. His hand covered my breast. He squeezed, tugging and pinching his fingers around my nipple.
My breath hitched, and my insides clenched tight.
The monster showed me mercy. Markos bent and flicked his tongue over my breast. The sensation sent my eyes rolling into the back of my head. He lapped at my nipple, offering me what I needed.
A whimper escaped past my lips.
Brushing the tangles away from my face, Markos rumbled in approval, moving to repeat the caress on the other side.
This time, he used his teeth. Pleasure shot through me.
Between my legs, moisture dripped from my entrance.
As if the beast could sense it, Markos moved lower until his mouth found my pussy.
Stars exploded across the backs of my eyelids as his tongue slid against me, pushing into the soaking wet entrance. The sound he made, primal and predatory, made me convulse with pleasure.
He took his time, exploring and tasting. I was so damn close to an orgasm, which had built from the foreplay of binding me, that it only took a few flicks of his tongue over my clit to bring me to the edge.
But the relief never came.
Markos rose, leaning over me.
“Stronzo!” I gasped, my core pulsing wildly.
He didn’t say anything as he watched me writhe and struggle against the ropes. My hair was likely in knots at this point. When I couldn’t relieve the pressure myself, I quit wriggling and glared at him.
Only to see him pumping his cock in his fist.
I froze. A mewl choked from my throat. He was getting off on seeing me this way.
Breathless, I watched him take his pleasure. It lasted for a few more strokes before he released his cock and brought his fingers to my slit.
He’s teasing both of us.
I had no experience, no knowledge of what to do in this bondage situation. So I said the only thing I could think of to show my submission.
“Please, Markos. Touch me, please,” I breathed. This was my punishment—the inability to take what I needed. It could only be offered to me.
The monster from the deep was merciful.
His finger pushed inside me, curling deep. The sensation made me moan.
“You’re doing so well, Serena,” he murmured.
I whimpered.
A second finger joined the first, and he ravaged my body. But a mad idea formed in my mind. Before I could think it through, I spoke.
“Let me see you,” I said breathlessly. “Let me see you touch yourself.”
He stilled.
The only sound was that of the AC kicking over. The soft whir brought no relief to my heated skin.
And then his fingers curled.
Another explosion of stars shot across my field of vision. This time, however, I swore they were in the room instead of my imagination.
“Watch.”
I blinked at the pirate looming over me. His hand glided from root to tip before tracing the path back down.
My pussy clenched greedily at the sight.
“órkhis, prinkípissa, you squeeze me so good.”
I was right there, ready to come all over his fingers. The steady rhythm gave me physical pleasure while the way he touched himself took it to the next level of eroticism. Each breath exhaled on a needy whimper. Markos fucked me with his fingers until my body trembled.
Once more, it came to a screeching halt.
“I was right there!” I screamed.
Markos lifted his glistening finger to his lips and sucked.
I lay there, panting hard and watching.
The pause gave our bodies time to come down naturally, but the fire still smoldered.
He moved over me, covering my body with his.
He took his time kissing and scoring each breast with his teeth.
There would likely be bruises from the places he sucked.
Each press of his mouth created a pop of pleasure.
So focused on his mouth, I didn’t realize his cock was pressed against my entrance until he slid himself deep inside. Blood flow restricted from the rope, skin heightened by the teasing of his mouth, I was a bundle of sensitive nerves when he finally brought us together.
Our moans combined in a euphoric symphony.
He belongs to me.
My muscles clenched tightly around him, showing him my possessive side. I might be bound at his mercy, but this thing between us brought him down to my level.
Markos rocked into me, each thrust more urgent. “Take my cock, Serena. Take all of it.”
I mewled—a purely instinctual response to being dominated.
And he, in turn, groaned.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing the cum right out of me,” he groaned, every muscle strained from his release.
That did it—I fell.
Every nerve ending sizzled. A scream, raw and primal, tore from my very soul.
Markos groaned loudly, teeth sinking into my throat. His body was taut and tight, flexing above me. Pleasure ebbed and flowed between us, starting in one body and transferring into the other until it was impossible to tell where my body ended and his began.
Together, tied in a joint display of power and possession. This man was mine in every possible way.
And I’m his. Body and soul.