Another slap.

  “I think you want me to fuck you. I don’t think it matters how much you protest. I think you want my cock.”

  She was searing hot, and she wanted him, even if the shame of it made her cheeks burn. She nodded, hesitant, at first, and then harder.

  “Say it,” he said, his fingers twisting harder and faster.

  At this speed, his thumb bumped into her clit with every stroke, and she wanted the release of an orgasm more than ever. Somehow, that would make this whole thing… more tolerable. She could live with whatever came next, somehow, if she was coming on his cock, harsh and vicious and like she’d always dreamed.

  Another harsh slap to her ass.

  “I said say it.”

  Piper groaned long and low and then forced herself to speak. “I want it.”

  He slapped her again, the same spot. She felt it burning, searing into her flesh. She would never forget the sensation.

  “What do you want?”

  His fingers pulled free with another of those long, wet sounds, and she was horribly empty. They were replaced by what felt like the head of his cock, but when she tried to push back eagerly, he just spanked her again.

  “Your cock.” She gasped, needing desperately to be full. “I want your cock.”

  He gave it to her in one swift motion. He had opened her up so wide that it was nothing for him to fill her up, pressing deep inside of her with a long, hard rush. He let out a groan as he bottomed out in her, and she felt his hips against her ass.

  Every long, thick inch of him fit inside of her, and even as she was stretching even more to accommodate his incredible girth, she felt her body surging around him, squeezing, desperately close to the edge even though he’d barely started fucking her.

  From the way he was moving, with jagged, sharp bursts, she was sure he was as tight and close as she was. He grunted at the end of each thrust, moving his hips in some magical way that was making her clench her fists in the sheets and twist them, trying to keep control of herself. This was humiliating, terrifying—and she’d never been so turned on in her life.

  “You like it, don’t you,” he said, his voice rough and breathless. “You like not having a choice. You like that you’re trying not to come around my thick cock when you’re taking it by force.”

  He didn’t like it when she was quiet; she’d figured out that much.

  “Yes,” she cried out.

  “You’re going to come like a whore, aren’t you? A pretty whore who’s already thinking about how this is going to be her life for as long as I choose for it to be, and wondering if she got the good end of the deal.”

  “Yes.”

  God, she was trying to hold back, and she didn’t know why. It felt good, it felt incredible to be pushed into this—she would be ashamed of it later, but she wasn’t ashamed of it now. Now she was desperate to let go, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold on.

  She felt him slam into her one last time with a groan, and that thumb that had been teasing her clit clamped down, twisting the sensitive nub until she was burying her face in the mattress to hide the scream. Pleasure screamed through her as she felt his cock pulsing, throbbing inside of her as he came.

  Everything twisted down into one tiny pinpoint of sensation and then burst through her, making her hips shove wildly back at him, rocking on his still spurting cock. He was so big and thick that she felt their mixed fluids leaking out onto her thighs as he rode out those last few strokes with her, urging her through every bit of pleasure she could take from it. Her body was entirely limp and boneless, and she had to work to turn her head sideways so she could breathe.

  Condom, she thought distantly. Oh shit.

  But would he have really stopped if she had demanded that he put one on? She certainly didn’t think so. And right this second, she couldn’t muster up the energy to care. Timing wise, she should be fine. Probably.

  Girl. Least of your concerns. Focus.

  He had backed up now, his gorgeous cock slowly becoming flaccid, though even soft he was absolutely huge. Piper rolled sideways. She was incredibly messy, and she didn’t want to mess up the dress she was in—not until she knew if she actually had other clothes anyway.

  But that was tomorrow’s problem.

  Damian ducked through a door, then came back out with a couple of towels in hand. He tossed one to Piper, and she found her cheeks flaring red as she used the softest towel she’d ever touched to wipe up a mix of cum and arousal that would have looked excessive in a lot of porn.

  Damian’s face was calmer now. When Piper had cleaned herself up and sat up—taking a moment to really feel how it burned to have the ass cheek he’d spanked so many times take her weight—he sat down next to her.

  “I think we both needed that,” he said, using the same voice a person might use to comment on the weather.

  It was too much to admit that she had enjoyed herself; she definitely was not about to say that she’d needed something so rough and brutal. With her body covered and theoretically decent again—although her panties were so soaked and filthy that she really just wanted to take them off and go without—it was harder to understand why it had felt good. Why being forced to take something like that had felt so freeing.

  She was just going to put it in the past and find out what she needed to do to survive—whatever it was that was happening—the next month on this yacht.

  8

  Damian resisted the urge to rub his eyes. This girl wasn’t going to be useful in any of the ways he needed her to be. Well, his cock ached from the fury with which they’d fucked, and he was still so turned on that he was sure he could take her again tonight—if he decided he wanted to. But other than that, he had to admit that there was something particularly enjoyable about taking the girl who had rejected Todd; son of a bitch had it coming. He would bet his entire retirement money that she’d never screamed like that for Todd.

  What he had needed was a piece of arm candy, a girl who could be friendly enough with the bride and not be in the way when he needed to get things done. He did not need an amateur Nancy Drew asking questions or drawing conclusions, or really doing anything other than “what he said to do”. It was something simple.

  But she wasn’t going to make it simple as she had just asked about the job.

  “No, I won’t tell you what the job is,” he said, making his voice hard and clear. “And if you ask me again, I’m going to show you the difference between a fun spanking and one that I mean. Clear?”

  Her eyes went big before she blinked and got herself back under control. Interesting. Prim little darling had no idea how much she liked the pain. He could use that—if he needed to.

  “Okay,” she said. She seemed scared. That was okay. Frankly, given the day that she’d had, she should be scared. “Can you tell me more clearly what you need me to do?”

  “No,” he said again, then held up a hand when she started to argue. “It’s going to be a work in progress. I can give you a little bit of background here—and you need to fix your makeup. We need to multi-task, or we’re going to be late.”

  He dug through the bags that Todd had sent onto the ship for them. Eventually, Piper made an “Ooh!” sort of sound, and he handed her the bag his hands were on. She opened it up and made a face; apparently, it was a bunch of leftovers from what she’d left at Todd’s condo. Well, it would do, and if it wouldn’t, the ship would have some sort of make-up counter; he was sure of that much. She stood, wobbled on her feet for a moment, then went into the bathroom.

  “This is a wedding cruise,” he said. “We’re here to wish Fiona Chamberlain and her fiancé, Alex Dodson, well as they embark on their next stage of life. Embark, like a ship, I guess. The theme connection is unclear.”

  Damian made himself pause and recollect. Watching her wash off the makeup that he’d ruined fucking her was incredibly distracting. As she reapplied it fresh, all he wanted to do was ruin it again.

  This had the potential to become a real problem.

  “It’s Fiona’s father, Rich, who I have business with. To be able to deal with him, I need to deal with Fiona, and that means getting close to Fiona. That’s going to be your job.”

  Piper nodded as she carefully applied eyeliner. “So I need to be friends with the rich girl getting married? Okay.”

  Damian shook his head. “It’s a tiny bit more complicated than that. You and Fiona are already friends; you have been for about ten years now.”

  Piper blinked, messed up the eyeliner, cursed, and then set about fixing it. “I don’t know anyone named Fiona.”

  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Fiona was apparently quite the party girl for a while in college. She had a suite with girls moving in and out frequently for a few weeks. She invited absolutely everyone from those days to join her here, and that means you’re here. You lived in the suite for about three weeks before you transferred out to another school. Except for that detail, all the rest of your story stays yours.”

  “There’s not some kind of complicated backstory I have to memorize?”

  This was going to be a fucking disaster, and he was going to hang Todd by his balls for this. If Damian survived it.

  “No. You always keep your story as simple as possible. The less complicated it is, the easier it is to remember, and the harder it is to fuck up. And that’s basically your job here—be friends with Fiona, don’t fuck up. Think you can handle that?”

  He saw Piper bristle, her eyes narrowing for a moment. It looked damn sexy, and he wanted to make her do it again. Just for fun.

  “While juggling,” she said. “Where are we going now?”

  “There’s a short reception beforehand, then the wedding, then a full reception after.” Damian glanced down at his watch. “We’re just fashionably late for the early reception, but if we don’t get a move on, we’ll actually be late.” He looked her up and down. The dress that Todd had shoved on her did look good, and it wasn’t too wrinkled after everything he’d done to her. There was just one detail… “Give me your panties.”

  “Excuse me?” She almost stabbed herself in the eye again, with a mascara wand this time, but she recovered at the last moment. “Do what?”

  “They’re soaking wet, and they’re making you fidget. Take them off. You can go without, you’ll be fine.”

  Her cheeks flared as red as if he’d slapped her, and goddammit just thinking that was making his dick hard again. He clenched down hard, forcing himself to keep the blood from flowing into that area. He didn’t have time to be a fucking teenage boy nutting off every other minute.

  “They’re not wet.” She lifted her chin in a saucy, defiant little way that made him furious and made all the clenching in the world irrelevant. His dick sprang to full attention, completely uncaring that it had been well tended to just a few minutes before.

  He shoved her again, loving the squeak she made to find herself pressed up against a wall with his weight bearing down on her.

  “I think you forget,” he said, lifting her skirt slowly as she tried and failed to wriggle away.

  He dug his fingers into her fleshy thigh hard enough to make her hiss and be still. He pressed his fingers over the crotch of her panties, feeling the cold wetness there and shoving it up against her. She made a face and squirmed harder, clearly disliking the sensation. Of course she did; no one would want to be sitting around in dirty underwear—unless that was their kink, in which case, respect.

  “You’re forgetting who made them wet in the first place.” He caught the edge of the fabric and snapped it sharply against her skin once, then started to tug them down.

  It was hard; they caught on the curves of her hips and thighs, but she had the sense not to try and press her knees together. He got them down and off her feet, then checked. She hadn’t done her lipstick yet; he smeared the filthy panties over her mouth. She tried to twist away, and he grabbed the back of her head, holding her still so that he could shove them against her lips.

  “Don’t forget.”

  Her eyes were wide, and she shook her head. He considered making her say it just so he could cram the panties in her mouth. But no. They had places to be.

  He pulled the panties back and raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I won’t… forget.”

  He stepped back and enjoyed how her hands were shaking as she washed her chin and lips and then finished off her makeup.

  9

  When she walked into the ballroom on Damian’s arm, Piper couldn’t believe what an opulent space she had entered. She’d been to black tie events once or twice, either through her career or with dates, but this was something that gave a new definition to the concept of excess. It reminded her of the old photos of the Titanic, all gilt and red carpet and glittering glass.

  There were a few chairs set around the outside of the room, a few high tables and then regular tables and chairs organized on the far side of the room. Most of the space, however, was simply open, leaving space for guests to mingle. Waitstaff with white gloves moved through the space, circulating small plates and amuse-bouche and glasses of champagne and wine. There was a wet bar to the left.

  Piper leaned towards Damian and turned her head so that anything she said would probably seem like a lover’s whisper, even though the thought made her shudder a little. Not necessarily unpleasantly.

  “Am I allowed to drink?”

  He turned towards her, his mouth curved in an affectionate smile while his eyes studied her in an entirely different way. “Are you a sloppy drunk?”

  She gave a light laugh that she hoped was what he was looking for in Fiona’s future best friend.

  “Absolutely not. I don’t usually have more than a glass of wine or a single drink anyway, but I don’t get messy that fast anyway.”

  He shot her a knowing look, and her cheeks flared red. In the bathroom, when he’d been so humiliating… it had twisted her up inside in a way she just didn’t understand. It was like he was reading her mind and sneaking peeks at her darkest fantasies. It was terrifying—and arousing, both in ways that were difficult to all the way comprehend.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to—if she was entirely honest. There were so many things she had buried far away when she’d realized that there wasn’t a man she would ever be able to tell about them. The few times she had suggested things to college boyfriends, they’d been disgusted, horrified that she would even think of such things. So, she’d stopped—pretended that no one would want anything like that, and definitely not her.

  No matter how much it was a lie.

  “Fine,” he said.

  He snagged two glasses of dry white wine—thank God, she hated champagne—from a waiter as the tray went by.

  “Have you had anything to eat yet?”

  “No,” she said.

  It had been hours ago—or had it been?—since she’d left Marissa’s apartment for breakfast.

  “Then sip that slow, and find something to eat. I’ll be over at the tables. We’ll go up and greet Fiona and Alex together.”

  Piper nodded. While the staff was circulating with small things, there were also a few other plates laid out, buffet style, on a long, tiered table. She went over, selecting a few small things, and giving herself a moment to breathe while she thought about what the hell she was going to do to get out of this.

  The fact that the sex she’d just had was life-changing, she had no idea what was going on here. Clearly, Damian was here to do something illegal, or else she wouldn’t be here. Some kind of con or something that she absolutely did not want to be caught up in. But the boat was already in motion; even though they were on a huge ocean liner that was barely moved by the average wave, she felt the rumble of the engines beneath her. Jumping ship and swimming to shore was a romantic dream that would just end up with her drowned.

  She could reveal herself to a crew member, but Damian and Todd were certainly involved in something together. It seemed more than possible that at least some of the crew had been bought. If she tried to leave, there was no guarantee that she would get away with it. And if she was a liability… Damian had implied that as long as things went the way he told her they should, he was going to do his best to protect her. Even make sure she got paid for “services rendered”. It sounded a lot like getting paid to be his personal whore, but at least it was enjoyable.

  But what if the—whatever—that he was involved in was deeper than just some kind of con, or maybe the kind of business deal best conducted outside of American oversight? What if he was here to do something really bad?

  Piper looked back over her shoulder and saw that Damian was no longer where she had left him. Her heart skipped for a moment, but she pushed herself to remember:

  He said that he would meet me by the tables. I’ll find him there in just a moment—when she decided whether she was going there at all.

  She ate two tiny meatballs off an artfully carved skewer, had one of the most sumptuous egg rolls she’d ever tried, and then made short work of a slice of chocolate mousse cake the length and width of a finger. She wanted to eat plenty more; once she’d swallowed one thing, it was like her stomach woke up and tried to scream its needs into her face. But if she overate too much, she would feel sick, and none of this was going to go well if that happened.

  She looked to the tables, and saw Damian there, drinking his glass of wine and holding hers. She took one more long moment, trying to decide what to do, and walked back towards him. Without a clear plan, flailing around would just put them both in danger.

  She didn’t know if the crew was safe, and she didn’t really know who this family was. Well, she knew who Rich Chamberlain was. His name was gold in the city’s commerce centers. He was a billionaire, and he’d worked hard for his fortune. He seemed to be a genuinely good guy too—but then lots of men seemed decent right up until you put them into a corner. He must have had some kind of dealings with the Santiagos; that didn’t mean anything good for him. This entire ship might be one big death trap for her.