Naked, Long Shadow paced in his cell like a caged wolf. He had to get out. He knew Wendee was on the island — had overheard Josh talking to Nick about her a week earlier. But no matter how he dredged his imagination he couldn't come up with a workable escape plan.
The lure of a violent break-out was strong, but the chances of survival would be slim. Long Shadow was prepared to die for Wendee, but not in a romantic gesture. At the moment, her survival depended on his own and that fact tempered his impetuosity.
He should never have gotten himself locked up in the first place. Still, under the circumstances he was lucky to be alive. He should have let them take Skye without a fight — should have remembered his first loyalty belonged to Wendee. But it had come as such a shock. He'd known Skye would be taken from him eventually and had prepared himself for her to be either released or killed. But not for her to be bartered into a life of servicing men's sexual needs.
Not Skye.
His reaction had been instinctive — out of guilt and gratitude as much as friendship, yet despite his hand-combat training, Josh had overpowered him easily. The stupidity of his actions rankled, but worse was the growing suspicion that what he'd really been fighting for was the sexual relief Skye had given him — a relief he'd come to depend on.
In any case, he'd failed. Failed Skye and failed Wendee.
At least when he'd been with Skye there'd been hope. With freedom, he could have devised a way of rescuing Wendee.
Now his life was defined by frustration — not only at his imprisonment, but because the means of his physical release had been withdrawn. The raging tide of his sexual appetite, awoken by Wendee and partially appeased by Skye, was out of control. He lived in a state of almost constant arousal and no amount of self-manipulation lessened his anguish. In fact, the more he touched himself, the more sensitive and aroused he became. Erections followed hard on the heels of ejaculations and there seemed to be nothing he could do to halt the feverish spiral.
At times, he completely forgot the reasons he'd wanted to rescue Wendee — the plans he'd made for their future. He couldn't remember their conversations or the uncanny way she had of guessing what he was about to say. All he could think of was sinking his burning cock into her and churning that soft, clinging flesh until he was screaming from the pleasure.
A fear that Belle's spirit had touched him and twisted his mind weighed heavily on him. He imagined the most terrible things — imagined Wendee, the woman he loved, in the caves where Skye had been. In his mind there were no others in the caves. No Nick or Tony, Mack or Josh. Certainly no Christophe. Only Long Shadow, taking what he wanted, forcing her to his pleasure, hurting her.
In his more rational moments, Long Shadow knew this was jealousy at work — his mind combating the image of her with DeMartande. But at other times he was totally lost to the fantasy, his teeth gritting painfully as he jerked at his penis in a parody of stabbing it into Wendee.
He wanted her so badly he could taste it. Yet he was frightened of what he might do if he had her.
This day, it seemed, he was about to find out.
Tony and Nick entered his cell at the normal dinner hour, but instead of bringing food, they shoved him roughly against the wall and chained him there, laughing at the rampant erection their actions precipitated.
"If we'd brought Josh with us," Nick said, squeezing Long Shadow's hard flesh insolently, "he'd have made a meal of this."
"Let me go, you animal," Long Shadow snarled.
Nick squeezed cruelly, then to Long Shadow's horror, the Greek boy began to stroke his erection, pulling on the aching flesh with the expertise only another man could possess. "Missing the blonde bitch, are we?" he said to Long Shadow. "You like a hot tongue running over your dick, do you? Tell me, did she suck your balls, Chief? I taught her that."
Long Shadow made a harsh grating noise deep in his throat. He could feel it. He was going to come.
"Stand back," Nick intoned. "Old faithful's about to blow."
Long Shadow could feel his scrotum filling — the imminence of his ejaculation. He tried desperately to think of something bad, something frightening, but the first thing that came into his head was a vision of Skye kneeling in front of him that first time.
It was the wrong thought, not that it would have made any difference. Long Shadow had no resistance to sexual stimuli. He clenched his buttocks as tightly as he could but the stream of hot ejaculate shot out just the same.
"Th'ar she blows," Nick crowed gleefully, still tugging on the flesh.
Humiliated, Long Shadow stared at a point just over Nick's shoulder, hating the familiar kick of sensation that accompanied the orgasm.
"Didn't know you were a faggot, did you?" Nick taunted, giving his penis a last painful tug before slapping it back against his thigh. "We'll bring Chris with us next time and you can poke his skinny ass. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Chief?" Nick came closer to whisper, "Or maybe you'd rather suck him off. Nothing like the taste of virgin dick. Wendee sure as hell liked it. Better than yours I'll bet."
Tony laughed at that but Long Shadow stared at the wall, his teeth gritted together so tightly his jaw ached. He knew Nick was trying to get a rise out of him, a reason to rough him up. But he had to think of Wendee — had to stay alive if he wanted to rescue her.
"Shut up. Shut up." Tony grabbed his brother's arm. His other hand was pressed against his ear. Long Shadow watched, knew he was listening to his voice-comm. After a minute, Tony's shoulders straightened. "Acknowledged." Then to his brother, "The boss is on his way. We gotta clear out."
Nick smirked across at Long Shadow. "And I was just starting to have fun."
Long Shadow glared back, his lips pressed together to stop himself saying anything.
"Keep that dick handy, Chief," Nick taunted as Tony pushed him out the door. "We'll be back."
The door slid closed and Long Shadow was alone. He wanted to shout at the closed door that he'd gouge Nick's heart out with his bare hands, but he didn't.
DeMartande was coming. He had to think.
How could he use this visit to his advantage? DeMartande would want to know what had precipitated his disobedience. Could he blame his stupidity on Skye? She was out of their reach now. It might work.
At least DeMartande's suspicions about his feelings for Wendee would have been side-tracked by his fight to save Skye. If he could build on that, assure DeMartande that he'd been temporarily infatuated with Skye — that he could be trusted again…
There was a noise outside, then the door slid open. Long Shadow steeled himself to use any opportunity that came his way.
DeMartande stood at the doorway, staring in at his prisoner. For a moment his attention drifted to his side and Long Shadow wondered who was with him. Mr Black? Josh? He hoped it wasn't Tony or Nick. If it was Christophe he stood a better chance. Christophe liked him. They'd become friends. There was a lever there he could use.
"Long Shadow," DeMartande acknowledged as he stepped over the threshold.
"My Liege," Long Shadow replied, forcing his eyes to stay on DeMartande and not stray to the dark shadow stepping in behind him.
"You disappointed me, Long Shadow." DeMartande brushed the sleeve of his coat and then deigned to look up at his servant. "Do you have an excuse?"
This was his opportunity. Long Shadow couldn't have arranged it any better if he'd written the script. "Yes, my Liege. I was hypnotised. She mesmerised me with sex. I didn't know what I was doing."
He wanted to add that DeMartande of all people should understand that, but he didn't. Better not to push his luck.
"I see. And this woman," DeMartande took a step forward. "This Skye. Why was she so special to you? Did you love her?"
"I thought I did." Long Shadow apologised to Wendee in his heart for the lie. "I'd never felt that way before. When she touched me, I — "
"You were blinded by lust?"
Long Shadow was momentarily distracted by the person in the heavy cloak drifting out of the shadows of the cell to come and stand behind DeMartande. Very closely behind he noticed, but this was out of his peripheral vision. He kept his eyes glued to DeMartande's — knew he must sound sincere. "I could think of nothing but her mouth."
"Quite a paradox," DeMartande said. "You loved her, yet you forced her to actions we both know she didn't want. Why did you do that?"
Long Shadow thought of his love for Wendee — his desire to hurt her out of jealousy — tried to link the two into a plausible excuse for his treatment of Skye. "I was jealous of the men who had taken her before. I wanted to punish her for…" Long Shadow trailed off, his eyes drifting down to the movement he'd seen.
Whomever was under the cloak had their hand down the front of DeMartande's pants.
"I understand completely," DeMartande said, his voice barely audible. Long Shadow watched him close his eyes. "I too am jealous. But in my case, it seems I am to be the one punished, not the woman who has aroused my jealousy."
Long Shadow shook his head. Intuition told him this visit wasn't about him. It was about DeMartande, and whoever was with him.
The hand withdrew and the cloaked person stood clear.
"Now," DeMartande said calmly, and the cloak slid to the floor.
"Wendee!" Long Shadow lunged off the wall, his wrists almost snapping against the manacles. It was Wendee, his love, his lover, the woman he -
…the woman who, seconds before, had put her hand down another man's pants.
The triumphant gleam in her eyes crushed the last of his excitement. He slumped back against the wall.
"I knew he would reveal himself." DeMartande's voice was smug. "You're quite wrong, my dear. He is in love with you."
"He's in love with whoever sucks his cock," Wendee sneered. "He'd be in love with Josh if he had the opportunity."
"Shall we test it?" DeMartande inquired.
Long Shadow was too distracted to panic at the thought. Wendee had heard him. She thought he was in love with Skye.
He lowered his head, tried to think. He couldn't just blurt the truth. He had to get free — had to risk alienating her further. But when they'd escaped he'd reassure her that he loved only her. She had to believe him. He wouldn't let himself think of the consequences if she didn't.
"Don't keep me in suspense, my dear," DeMartande said to her. Long Shadow raised his head. "What is to be the manner of my torture. Humiliation in front of a witness? Is that why we're here?"
"Not exactly," she drawled, and Long Shadow felt his skin crawl. He suddenly realised this was not the Wendee he had known. This creature wearing nothing but black boots, long black leather gloves and a garish silver necklace was like a mannequin who resembled his Wendee. The voice, the movements — they were all different. Yet it was Wendee.
"I'm giving you a unique opportunity today, Pietre," she said, stepping away from the cloak to stand behind him again. "The anal insert I fitted for you earlier is keyed to a touch-pad between your molars." She reached down the back of his pants and then withdrew her hand again. "Tap your teeth together," she instructed, and he did.
Long Shadow watched as his body jerked, but no sound of pain escaped his lips. It was there in his eyes though. Long Shadow's penis which had firmed at Wendee's entrance, now wilted in sympathy.
"I brought you here to punish you," she said to DeMartande, "but you shall be the one to mete out the pain, according to my instruction."
Long Shadow watched, dry mouthed as she came towards him, her gloved hand cupping his scrotal sac, weighing it. Involuntarily and in spite of his confusion, his penis stiffened. "I will make you jealous," she said over her shoulder to DeMartande. "When you feel the emotion, when you want to stop me or hurt me you will touch your teeth together. Is that clear?"
"Perfectly."
DeMartande sounded quietly pleased, but Long Shadow couldn't drag his eyes away from Wendee to gauge his expression. She was rubbing her gloved hands over his stomach, his hips, around to cup his buttocks as she leant in and pressed his erection against her belly.
Her eyes, when she tilted her head and looked up into his, held an emptiness that terrified him. Yet when she touched her lips to his, he kissed her — thrust his tongue into her warm mouth and kissed her with all the desperation and passion he'd been holding inside.
Her hands were everywhere, the soft gloves caressing, and her soft belly rubbing against him, her warm melting mouth and that tongue…
He groaned against her lips as the wetness spread between them and still she touched him — his shoulders, his back. Then her mouth slid from his and began its slow descent down his body. Long Shadow closed his eyes. He'd wanted this for so long — her mouth against his neck, his ear, the hollow at the base of his throat. She remembered it all — his nipples, how exquisitely they responded to her gentle nibbles.
Then his belly button, the way her tongue thrust in wetly. He was fully hard again now, his eyelashes fluttering open as her mouth settled over the tip of his penis.
Hold back, his mind yelled. Make it last, but something distracted him.
He'd forgotten about DeMartande, and now noticed he seemed to be chattering his teeth together. There was a frenzied expression in his eyes as he staggered towards them.
"No!" Long Shadow cried, but he was unbuttoning his pants, his teeth continuing their manic tapping.
Wendee's legs were straight, her bottom up in the air as she bent over Long Shadow's penis and DeMartande took advantage of that position, inserting his now-erect penis with a shaking hand.
Long Shadow shook his head in horror but Wendee was growling, deep in her throat, and he became so lost in sensation he didn't know what he was feeling.
The soft gloves were rolling his testicles — the pinball machine inside his mind was lit up — but DeMartande was standing in front of him fucking the woman he loved — DeMartande with his jaw clenched shut, his eyes like those of a madman.
Wendee pushed back against him, working the same rhythm she was using on Long Shadow, but her new lover stood as rigid as a corpse. Long Shadow wondered if he was dead.
Then he felt the sucking down sensation, the thick pulling in his abdomen and he closed his eyes — shut out DeMartande and everything else except the thought of Wendee and how much he wanted to kiss her again. He felt that velvet tongue slide against his shaft as she took him deep and he imagined her kissing him, stroking his tongue with her own, in and out, up and down, warm and wet, soft and…
" Mine," he groaned as the second spasm gripped him, more powerfully than the first against her belly. "You're mine," he said again, then opened his eyes and looked down.
Her hands were on the wall at either side of his waist as she continued the push, push, push against DeMartande's penis. Her head was pressed against his stomach.
"Stop it," he said and pushed his body forward to jolt her. "Stop fucking him."
"I like fucking," she said, through what sounded like gritted teeth.
DeMartande's eyes were closed and he seemed to be totally out of the conversation.
"Crawl up on me and I'll fill you with a hard, hot cock if that's what you want," Long Shadow said, his jealousy completely overriding any good sense he might have left. "Wrap your legs around my waist and I'll fuck you as much as you want." He pushed against her again. "Kiss me. Bite me. Hurt me. I don't care," he dared her.
She twisted her head to the side and tried to bite his stomach, but the rhythm she was maintaining and the flatness of his belly inhibited her. He felt her teeth though.
"Go on, hurt me," he goaded, "if that's what it takes to get a fuck out of you."
"Shut… up," she grunted, as she slam, slammed back into DeMartande.
Then the silent partner in their menage a trois made a noise, a stifled groan, and Long Shadow knew the orgasm Wendee had worked so hard to achieve had been won.
She pulled away, straightened, and reached into the back of his pants.
"Disabled," she said breathlessly. Then looked up into DeMartande's eyes. "That was the start. The easy part."
Long Shadow saw DeMartande expression. It was as incredulous as his own.
"Now stand over by the wall," she told him, "and watch me with no relief this time."
DeMartande did as he was told, his coat covering the penis that still protruded from his pants.
"You wanted to fuck me?" Wendee turned back to Long Shadow.
He could only stare into her eyes. He saw something there. Or at least he thought he did. But in the second after she released his manacles he had her in his arms and didn't care for the expression in her eyes. He only wanted her mouth, her tongue, her breasts, her ass, and the molten pool she had let others paddle in, but which was now his alone.
Her legs were wrapped around him as he took her against the wall, their mouths locked in desperation as he jack-hammered into her just the way he'd dreamt. He didn't want to hurt her or humiliate her now. He just wanted to wear himself out on her, over and over again. And they did. On the wall. On the dirty mattress on the floor. At DeMartande's feet. Everywhere she took him he made love to her. He couldn't stop. It was like the burning sensation in his penis. The more she touched him, the more he ached for her. Hard, soft, with his penis, his tongue, his fingers. She wanted it all and he gave it to her, whatever she asked for, however she preferred.
But a man's strength isn't limitless. It wears itself down from a frenzy into an exhausted lull. His heart thundering, he struggled to keep her in his arms but his grip was lax. He knew sleep would claim him but he fought it — sure she would be gone when he awoke.
"Please," he whispered in her ear, panting, hardly able to hear himself over the pounding of his heart. "It wasn't Skye. I was just… protecting her. It was you that I — "
Her fingers pressed over his lips. "Shhh. Don't perjure yourself. Sleep."
"Don't leave me," he said.
She smiled blandly into his eyes, tucking a long strand of hair behind one ear the way he remembered having tucked hers so long ago. "I was never here, my love," she said softly and turned to rise.
Long Shadow snapped his eyes shut but an impulsive tear sprang out before the lashes clenched together. He breathed deeply.
I will not cry. I will not cry.
He opened his eyes, saw them both standing at the door, DeMartande's hand possessively on Wendee's waist.
"Sleep well, lover. Regain your strength," she said blithely, turning a secret smile on DeMartande. "I think we enjoyed this so much, we might do it again."
"And again," DeMartande echoed, a deep satisfaction ringing in his voice.
Long Shadow looked away to the wall.
The door opened and closed. He didn't move. An hour later he was still staring at the wall when the door opened again.
"Visitors, Chief," the oily voice said and Long Shadow felt the hairs stand up on the nape of his neck. "Told you I'd be back."