Page 45 of Blind Sin

“Tell him I’ll pay double his normal rate. Thank you.”

“I’ll make sure to tellher,” she says pointedly, giving me a look that could cut glass, then turns and heads back inside.

Using the credit card is going to make us sitting ducks. This isn’t the same as Mercier buying some books from a local store. The amount this is going to cost is going to get flagged. It means that we need to stop messing about getting suntans and figure our shit out, because one way or another, we’re leaving the island next week.

I don’t say a word to the others all the way back to the island, because they don’t need to know that I’ve just made our situation more urgent. I don’t want to be the arsehole that spoils the excitement. What am I supposed to say to them anyway? Great news, there’s the slimmest chance Lauren might be able to see again next week, but she probably won’t live to tell the tale because I’ve just signed our death warrant.

When we get back I head straight to my room and turn on the ensuite shower. Guilt rolls through me knowing that I’ve shortened our time on this island. Mercier was has always been in denial about how long we could feasibly stay here without being caught, but even I’d hoped for longer. I managed to charm the doctor into booking Lauren in on a promise without putting the credit card down, but as soon as they demand payment and it goes through, there’ll be a call to my father from the bank and at that point we’re royally screwed. Either he’ll call the police or he’ll tell Waldgrave. One choice will land us all in jail, the other will put us six feet under. Tuesday is five days away. I have five days to come up with a plan to save us all. I’m in knots as I pull my t-shirt over my head and fling it onto the bed.

A knock on the door takes me out of my thoughts. I open it expecting to find Mercier and I’m surprised to see Lauren standing at my door, looking nervous.

“Can I come in?”

She’s no longer wearing the long shawl that Lucinda insisted she wear and the low cut sundress shows her tits and waist off to perfection. It also shows the band aids on her shoulders and the crook of her arm where she got both her vaccinations and where they drew blood. She looks like she’s been used as a pin cushion. I lean forward, resting my hand on the door frame and look down the corridor.

“Does Lucinda know you’re here?”

She shakes her head and bites her lip. “She’s making dinner with Nolan.”

Concern fills me. “Are you unwell? The doc said you might have a slight reaction to some of the vaccines.”

She pushes me back into my room and kicks the door closed behind her. I’m about to question what’s going on when she reaches for my belt buckle.

“You’re a charming man, Alexander Dacre,” she says, threading the belt through the belt buckle. “But you’re not as charming as you think you are. What did you say to get me in for my operation so soon?”

“You don’t need to worry about it.”

She gives the cutest snort. “How am I supposed to do that? You paid her with your parents’ credit card didn’t you.”

The woman can read me like one of those Braille books of hers. She can’t even see, but she is the only one who’s seen through my bullshit. I hook my finger under her chin and angle her face up to mine. She looks almost right at me. Knowing that in a week’s time she might actually be able to see through those bright blue eyes of hers makes this worth it all, even if she never sets those eyes on me again when I’m murdered by her father. The shittiness of our situation doesn’t escape me, but it is making moment like this all the more urgent.

When she moves her hand down to my fly and begins to undo the top button I grab her wrist.

“Don’t. I don’t need you to feel that you have to pay me for what I did. I did it because I wanted to.”

She licks her lips and just that act alone has me getting hard. “And I’m doing this because I want to.”

Any equilibrium I had falls away and restraint is forgotten as she pulls down the fly of my jeans and tugs them down over my knees. I watch her. She’s so caught up in what she’s doing immersed in her dark world. She’s concentrating so hard on the simple task, but I can’t bring myself to help her any more than lifting my feet as she rolls them down to the floor. I could pick her up and carry her to the bed, fling her on it and do whatever I want, but fuck, letting her take the lead is so much more of a turn on. As she stands, she runs her hand up my inner thigh and my breath catches in my throat as she lightly runs her hand over my erection before carrying on upward where she brings it to a stop on my chest.

She gives a nod, and her blue-black hair, cut in a shaggy style that has grown longer over time, sways with the motion. The blonde roots at her scalp are just starting to become visible. “You were just about to go in the shower?”

“That was the plan.”

“Undress me.”

My eyes dart to the unlocked door behind her. My girl likes to play with fire. This house is big, but it isn’t that big and there are only so many places she can be. It wouldn’t take much for Lucinda to figure out where she was if she decided to come looking for her. A guilty thrill runs through me as though every ounce of self composure I’ve been brought up to have has left my body, and I don’t care anymore. If Lauren is going to adopt a now or never attitude, I can too, because both of us know that next week, this will all be over one way or another.

Dacre

I roll the thin strap of her dress between my fingers before bringing my lips to her shoulder and letting the strap fall down her arm. She stays stock still apart from the deep rise and fall of her tits as I continue the journey down over her collarbone.

“Bite me!” She utters and for a second I think she’s saying in the derogatory way, telling me to stop, or worse, leave her entirely, but when I look up and see the expression on her face, the meaning becomes clear.

“You want me to bite you?”

She roughly threads her hand into my hair and pulls my head down towards her still covered breast. “Bite me, goddamn it, Dacre!” I note the use of my surname. She never calls me Dacre. She never acts like this at all, but I’ve sensed she’s wanted to for a long time. I’ve seen flashes of the storm within her and those parts of her are what turns me on, just like she’s turning me on right now. It’s hard to be worried about what Lucinda thinks when this might be one of my last chances to be with Lauren. I’ve, at best, sacrificed my freedom for her, at worse, sacrificed my life, so I might as well enjoy it while it lasts. And if Mercier has snuck some of his kinky shit into Lauren’s sexual repertoire, or if this is all her, then I’m not about to disappoint her. I rip the dress from her shoulder, tearing the thin strap in two, and nibble at her pebbled nipple lightly. She urges me on, gripping my hair more tightly so it’s straining at the roots as she forces my face harder into her breast. I clamp down harder with my teeth. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to pull a squeal from her lips and then I know I’ve hit my mark. Excitement pounds through me, raging like a beast as she guides me on. I’m a fucking cliché. British upper class toff being turned on by a strong dominant woman, but it’s this side of her that’s always interested me, not the timid, frightened girl we first picked up. And as Lauren evolves, my desire for her is evolving too, becoming profound, more emotionally charged. I sweep her off her feet and carry her to the shower. The sight of her in my arms, as water pounds down on us, her with one breast still showing with my teeth marks around her nipple and the dress still clinging to her, drives me almost to the point of frenzy. I’ve never seen an image so visceral in my life. I always thought that I’d find some upper-class girl to settle down with, pop out a few kids and have boring missionary sex with, but I know that without a doubt, this is the girl I want to be with. She’s messy and beautiful and fucked up. I don’t even bother to discard the dress; I roughly pull her panties to the side as I drop her down to the shower floor and plunge my cock into her. We both barrel into the wall of the shower as I pound into her. With one leg hooked round me and the other on the floor for support, she clings onto me, digging her nails down my back. It’s frenzied and so fucking hot, and as she lets out a loud moan, I realize what this is. It’s her version of the spice market I took her to earlier. Without her sight, I wanted to ignite her other senses, notably, her sense of smell. This is why she brought me into the shower, and why she asked me to bite her. She can’t see me as I fuck her, but she can feel, hear and she wants this to be an experience.

This has nothing to do with Mercier and his kinks. This is all her. She’s breathless already, but it’s the look of frenzied desire on her face, that drives me to pound harder and faster.

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