Page 71 of Carnal

"Why not?" I whisper.

He observes me for several moments, adding to the tension that makes me feel like I might explode. He finally leans into my ear and swipes his tongue on my lobe.

I whimper, unable to control myself. I've become putty in his hands. It's nothing I'm used to, but there's no way to stop it. I'm at his mercy, and he's fully aware.

He murmurs, "Tonight, my baby girl. Everything you want to know, you'll soon find out."

Chaos erupts in the farthest part of my soul. Instead of running or wanting to be the dominant one, I'm already submitting, dying to experience whatever he wants to do to me.

My body relaxes against his. A throbbing sensation hits me everywhere. I'm so wet, I wonder if I'm going to leave a stain on his pants.

And maybe he's some super god with magical powers because the look of approval he gives me tells me he fully understands what's happening within me. Perhaps he even gave my body subconscious orders that it's obeying, even though that must be impossible.

His lips graze my ear as he asserts, "You're going to submit to me in ways you haven't before. When we leave this island, you're going to be so addicted to me that you won't be able to stop yourself from craving what I can give you."

My fears mix with anticipation so fast, they're soon blended into unrecognizable pandemonium.

What if he's right?

No, I'll prove him wrong.

What if I can't?

He grunts, dragging his knuckles down my spine, insisting, "There's nothing to be afraid of, baby girl. I'll make sure nothing changes with work."

Can he read my mind?

I attempt to deny his statement, lying, "I'm not thinking about that."

He holds my head in front of his face, sternly ordering, "Don't ever speak untruths to me, Pina. I'm not the dumb younger brother."

His comment surprises me. I blurt out, "I never said you were, nor did I ever think you're stupid."

The back door opens. I hadn't realized the car had parked or the driver had gotten out. Tristano glances at the driver then releases me. I scramble off his lap and straighten my dress over my thighs.

Tristano orders, “Give us a minute.” He shuts the door, zips my dress, then pecks me on the lips. He opens the door, steps out before reaching in to help me out, then leads me toward the entrance.

A man stands behind a podium. He grins, saying, "Welcome to Nassau! I'm Cornelius. You must be Mr. and Mrs. Marino?"

I open my mouth to object, but Tristano tugs me closer and, before I can speak, replies, "Yes. And I'm afraid my wife is very tired. Is there any way we can skip whatever you normally do and go directly to the room?"

His wife?

Why do I like the sound of that?

I need to snap out of it!

"Most certainly, Mr. Marino. I'll have Gulliver take you to your suite." He motions to a man behind us then hands us a fruity cocktail. He asks, "Have you eaten, or would you like me to arrange to have food sent to your room?"

"I'm good. Pina?" Tristano questions.

"No, thank you," I state.

"Very well. Gulliver will take you to your suite." He gestures to a golf cart waiting nearby.

"Thank you," Tristano says and whisks me over to the vehicle.

We slide into the back seat. Gulliver turns and says, "Welcome to Sugar Dreams. Sit tight. Your room is the most secluded on the resort, so it'll take a bit longer to get to."

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