Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“Hi,” I managed, my voice still rough with sleep. “This place is… I mean…”
“Beautiful?” He crossed to me and pulled me into his arms, kissing the top of my head. “I’m glad you like it. This is my favorite resort in the world.”
I leaned into him, breathing in his scent—that expensive cologne mixed with something uniquely him. “How did we get here? I don’t remember…”
“You were exhausted. I carried you from the plane and then from the car.” His hand stroked down my back. “You needed the rest after yesterday.”
My face heated as memories of yesterday flooded back—kneeling between his legs on the jet, riding the cushion while he played with my bottom, being fed dinner while completely naked. The casual way he’d displayed me to Elena, as if my nudity and submission were the most natural things in the world.
“Come on,” Mike said, taking my hand. “Let’s get you some breakfast, and then we can explore.”
He led me back inside and ordered room service—fresh fruit, macadamia nut pancakes, Kona coffee that smelled like heaven. We ate on the lanai, the warm breeze carrying the scent of plumeria and salt water. Mike told me about the resort—how it had been built into the cliffside by a famous architect, how every room had an ocean view, how the black sand beaches were formed from ancient lava flows.
I found myself relaxing in a way I hadn’t in months, maybe years. Mike wasn’t demanding anything—sexual or otherwise. He was just… talking to me. Like I was a person he enjoyed spending time with, not just a body he’d purchased access to.
After breakfast, he took me on a tour of the grounds. The resort was breathtaking—infinity pools that seemed to spill directly into the ocean, private cabanas nestled among tropical gardens, a spa built into natural lava rock caves. We walked hand in hand along winding paths, and Mike pointed out exotic flowers and told me their Hawaiian names. I felt almost like a normal girl on a normal vacation with her boyfriend, except for the constant awareness of the seal between my legs and the memory of everything we’d done on the plane.
By lunchtime, we’d settled at an open-air restaurant overlooking the water. Mike ordered for both of us—poke bowls and Mai Tais—and as we ate, he asked me about the philanthropy app proposal.
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” I said, surprised by my own enthusiasm. “I mean, there are so many apps that connect donors to causes, but they’re all so impersonal. Just transaction platforms, you know? I want to create something that actually shows impact in real time. Like, if you donate to a school in Kenya, you could see photos and updates from that specific school. Maybe even video calls with the kids who benefit.”
Mike leaned forward, his eyes intent on my face. “Go on.”
“And the matching algorithm could be really sophisticated—not just based on what causes people say they care about, but on their actual values and interests. Like, if someone’s passionate about education and technology, match them with programs that teach coding to underprivileged kids. Make it personal.”
“I love that,” Mike said, and the warmth in his voice made my chest flutter. “You’re thinking about genuine connection, not just dollars moved. That’s exactly the kind of innovation that could disrupt the whole philanthropy sector.”
We talked for another hour, Mike asking thoughtful questions and offering suggestions that showed he was actually listening, actually taking my ideas seriously. By the time we finished lunch, I felt more alive than I had in months. Like maybe I was capable of something meaningful after all.
“Let’s go for a swim,” Mike said, signaling for the check.
Back in our room, I dug through my suitcase for the swimsuits I’d bought. My hand brushed against something hard wrapped in a t-shirt, and my stomach clenched as I remembered—the large plug. And beneath it, coiled like a snake, the martinet.
I pushed the thought away and pulled out the white microkini. Could I actually put it on? It had seemed acceptable—if barely—in the dressing room, but on the beach? I started to put it away.
“No,” I heard Mike say from behind me. “That one. Put it on.”
CHAPTER 23
Laura
My pussy clenched hard behind the seal at Mike’s flat command. I picked up the white microkini with trembling hands, the tiny triangles of fabric looking even more obscene in the Hawaiian sunlight streaming through the windows.
“Go ahead,” Mike said, settling into a chair to watch. “Put it on for me.”
I turned away, my face blazing, but his voice stopped me.
“No. Face me. I want to see.”
I forced myself to turn back around, dropping the robe with shaking hands. Being naked in front of him should have felt routine by now after everything he’d done to me and made me do, but somehow this was different. It seemed crazy, but the idea of putting on this bathing suit that I’d so unwisely picked out at the boutique—of covering up my nakedness that way—suddenly seemed like the most mortifying thing imaginable. Like I would be somehow more naked than naked. Never mind that I would then have to wear the ultra-revealing thing outside…