Page 69 of Stranded with the Resort Owner

"That's four nights, sweetheart." His lips curl against my neck. "Forty strikes. Forty reminders that control has consequences… and so does teasing a man trained to command."

He pauses, and I feel him still—completely still—as if the weight of this moment just slammed into him, too.

"My belt." He says, voice low and rough. "Are you okay with that?"

"Y-yes." The word leaves me shakily. "I'm okay with however you choose to punish me."

A beat.

"Whatever I choose?" There's something in his tone now—something quieter. Not doubt, but awe.

I nod, blindfolded, exposed, trembling not from fear but from the weight of what I'm giving him.

"I give up the right to choose." My voice cracks. "That is yours now."

"Fuck." His breath hitches. His hand clenches on my hip. It's whispered—barely a word, more a revelation. "Do you know what you've just done to me?"

I shake my head. I don't speak. I don't have to.

"I've never had this." His voice vibrates at my back, more confession than command now. "A woman willing to give it all. Not pretend. Not negotiated roles. Not something we can close like a book when we're done playing."

He exhales once, low and deliberate. The air feels charged, like a storm about to break.

"If that's true…" His voice deepens, dark and full of promise. "If you're giving me all of you… then I'm going to take it all."

His hand slides around my throat—not squeezing, just resting there. A possessive touch. A warning. A vow.

"Not just in bed. Not just when you're stripped bare and begging." His lips hover near mine, heat pouring off him like fire restrained by steel. "I'm going to own every part of you. Every look. Every breath. Every choice."

He pauses.

"You have one chance to walk away. Say the word, and I'll give you control again."

The silence pulses like a heartbeat. My breath shakes. But not from fear.

I lift my chin, blindfolded but unflinching.

"I want you in control. I want to feel it. Every second. Every rule. Every consequence." I swallow, pulse thundering. "I want to be yours in every way."

"You're not going to survive me." His groan is guttural—pain and hunger twisted together.

"I don't want to." I whisper.

"Good." His grip on my throat tightens just enough to make me gasp. His mouth brushes mine—barely a kiss, just a promise. "Then we begin."

His mouth claims mine in a kiss that contains multitudes—desire and tenderness, possession and promise. As his hands continue their deliberate exploration of my body, building pleasure skillfully, I surrender completely, trusting him to lead me into the uncharted territory we've discovered together.

Whatever we're building—both the business venture taking shape in my mind and the relationship evolving between us—begins here, in this perfect moment of mutual surrender and shared vision.

A whimper escapes me, but he's not done.

"One more thing." He says, his voice dark silk. "You don't get to come."

I stiffen. "Lucas?—"

"No. You teased. You denied. You tempted me again and again, knowing I wouldn't touch you." His hand tightens at my waist. "Now you get to suffer."

He kisses the corner of my mouth.

---