Isle of Sin: A Standalone Dark Romance

“Are you all right?” I questioned softly, aware of how close my mouth was to her shaved pussy. Was that what had her on edge now? Or was it something else?

“I…” She cleared her throat, her voice sounding hoarse.

“Do you have a safeword, Adalyn?” I asked her, realizing I should have addressed that from the beginning. But we weren’t exactly in a scene, even though I’d used my dominance to lull her into one.

I stood and washed the soap from my hands, then took hold of her hips.

“Have you ever been given a safeword?” I rephrased. “One you could actually use?”

She blinked up at me as though I spoke a foreign language. But this beautiful girl had to know what I meant.

Alas, she shook her head.

“My limits are infinite,” she informed me. “I have no need for a safeword.”

My eyebrows lifted. “Is that what that jackass told you? That you have no need for a safeword?” God, I would kill him if he were still alive. The only thing that kept me from raging was knowing that she’d stabbed him a good ten times before he’d died.

“My limits are infinite,” she repeated, tears entering her eyes. “I don’t need a safeword.”

“Oh, beautiful girl,” I said, wrapping my arms around her in a hug and holding her as she started to break against me. Those words were programmed into her, that repetitive statement clearly one she’d been trained to say.

I lifted her off the ground to cradle her in my arms as I moved to sit against the stone bench.

She fully broke then, sobs racking her body as she fought for her steadfast control, fought to hide beneath whatever veneer she’d crafted over the years.

“Everyone has a safeword,” I told her softly. “Because everyone has limits. And it’s a Dom’s responsibility to ensure you’re never taken to a point where you feel you need to use your safeword.” Which I’d suspected was near when I’d knelt before her. Something about my soaping up her legs had awakened her from her cocoon of bliss, and that look on her face had bordered on wrongness.

That wasn’t the sort of expression a woman should give a man when he was busy taking care of her.

And this reaction now proved all my instincts right.

“Wh-what do you want from me?” she sobbed. “I… I don’t know… I don’t know how to play…”

“This isn’t a game, Adalyn. I’m not part of Sin Cave. I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to take care of you.”

“Why?” she demanded. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because someone needs to,” I said, at a loss for a better explanation. What was I going to do? Tell her that one look at her at the airport the other morning had me wanting to yank her away from Nathan Spencer and hide her from everyone and everything that wanted to hurt her? It sounded insane to my ears. I didn’t know her. This shouldn’t be my problem at all.

But Nathan had chosen my island.

He’d sealed all our fates.

And now I was determined to make this right with Adalyn. To help her. To fix her. To soothe her.

To save her.

A dangerous notion.

However, I’d already set myself down that path.

Julian had responded to my last email, asking me how I intended to “handle” the package. I’d responded, stating I would provide my own style of training.

Needless to say, it had intrigued him.

And he’d provided the “okay” for Adalyn to remain here.

Bryant had later read the email and warned me that I’d just entered a dangerous game.

He wasn’t wrong.

Adalyn continued to cry and ask me what I wanted from her. I told her I didn’t want anything other than to heal her.

She accused me of lying.

I promised her I wasn’t.

At one point, she tried to slap me.

I merely caught her wrist and gently held it against my chest.

She vibrated with fury. Shook with fear. Screamed with pain. Cried with a sadness I felt to my very soul.

I held her through it all, until she was so exhausted that all she did was lie there limply against my shoulder. Only then did I finish bathing her by pulling one of the showerheads off the wall.

She didn’t fight me. She didn’t say a word, just let me rinse the remaining soap from her skin and the conditioner from her hair.

I moved her onto the bench, grabbed the soap, and did the best I could with her torso and back. It was like trying to wash a life-size doll. Somehow, I managed it.

Then I turned off the water and wrapped her up in a giant fluffy towel.

She shook, her expectations becoming clear as I carried her to the bed.

“We’ll do breakfast together tomorrow,” I told her as I laid her down on the comforter. “For today, we’ll stay here. I’ll work. You relax. But tomorrow, we have to be seen together. If Sin Cave is going to believe that I’ve claimed you as mine, then we’ll need people to see us together.”

Her big eyes met mine. “I don’t understand you.”

“I know.” I went back to the bathroom for a second towel that I spread out along the pillow for her hair. “Just lie down for a bit. I’ll arrange breakfast. Then you’re going to eat.”

Her nostrils flared like she wanted to refuse.

“You’re going to eat,” I reiterated, ensuring she could hear my command. “I’ll hand-feed you if I have to.”

She flinched, my phrase obviously bothering her.

Which was when I recalled the video of Nathan treating her like a dog.

Fucking prick.

Rather than elaborate or correct the assessment, I merely guided her back into the pillow with the towel on it and kissed the top of her head. “Be a good girl for me, Adalyn. And I promise to reward you.”

That had her eyes meeting mine. “How will you reward me?”

I wondered if she meant that as a sarcastic retort.

But something in her gaze told me she’d meant the question.

Perhaps Nathan had worked on some sort of fucked-up reward system.

“What kind of reward would you like?” I asked carefully, searching her gaze.

“I… I would like a week of no sharing, please.”

My eyebrows lifted, shocked by her request.

“A-a day,” she quickly amended. “Just twenty-four hours to recover. P-please.”

Jesus, that’s her idea of a reward? I shook my head, and her expression fell. “Oh, sweet girl.” I knelt on the bed and cupped her cheek with my palm. “I’ll give you more than a week. I’ll give you a lifetime, if that’s what you want.”

Her lower lip quivered. “I-I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Don’t ever apologize to me, Adalyn,” I told her sternly. “And I’m not punishing you. I’ll give you whatever you ask, just be good for me, okay?”

She started to cry again, breaking my heart. Rather than speak, I merely lay down beside her—still soaked from our shower—and held her again.

I’d have to change the sheets later, or maybe give her a different room. But it was worth holding her for now. Worth giving her my strength when she’d clearly expelled what was left of her own.

My wrist buzzed some time later with a message from Clive saying my sister was looking for me.

I clicked the microphone icon and replied, “Tell her I’m busy. I’ll call her later.”

Adalyn stiffened against me, almost as though she’d forgotten my presence.

“My sister,” I whispered against her ear. “She’s pestering my men about my location.” Which only further complicated everything at present, but I’d deal with it in time. “Are you ready to try to eat something, Adalyn?” I asked softly.

“Your sister?” she repeated.

“Hmm,” I hummed, chuckling a little. “She’s persistent.” As evidenced by Clive’s reply of She says she wants to meet you for lunch. I clicked the microphone again, “Tell her I have plans for lunch.”

Adalyn stiffened.

“Not those kinds of plans, Adalyn,” I said, aware of where her mind was going. “I’m going to feed you. Then I need to work.”

My wrist buzzed again. She’s on her way to your villa, sir.

“Fuck,” I muttered. “I need to go handle my errant sister.” The last thing I wanted was for her to meet Adalyn and get the wrong idea in her head.

Another message came through, this one from my brother. What are you doing that makes you too busy for our dear sister?

I growled, rolling out of the bed, and went to find my clothes. At least my boxers were mostly dry now. But I yanked them off in the bathroom to pull on the dress pants because, knowing my sister, I didn’t have a lot of time. I buttoned up my dress shirt, then took my phone from the pocket of my slacks and dialed Tru.

I had no idea what time it was over there, but he was obviously awake, thanks to our sister.

“Did that little brat actually call to complain to you?” I asked when he answered.

“Of course she did,” he drawled. “I’m her favorite brother, after all.”

I snorted. “Right. I have work to do.”

“As do we all, but when the baby wants something, she gets it.”

“You realize that’s why she thinks she’s the center of all our worlds, right? Because we let her do this?” I stepped into the bedroom to find Adalyn watching me.

“Life would be very boring without her.”

“A fact she enjoys reminding us of every day,” I replied, smiling despite my mood. “Next time she wants to tattle on me, tell her to try Beckett or Damiano. I like talking to them more than you.”

Tru snorted. “You’ve always been a terrible liar, little bro.”

I nearly asked if I could put him on speaker to repeat that out loud for Adalyn, but I didn’t want to have to explain her presence yet. “I’ll handle our darling little brat of a sister. But I’m sending her to you on her way back to London.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a threat or a gift…” He trailed off.

“A mixture of both,” I promised, hanging up the phone and looking at Adalyn. “I’ll be back with breakfast. There are clothes in the closet if you want them.”

I started to leave when another thought struck me, sending me back into the bathroom.

“Or you can wear this,” I said as I returned to the bed with a robe in my hand. I set it beside her. “Whatever makes you the most comfortable. But put on something, Adalyn. Not just the towel, okay?”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied, her voice soft.

“Good girl.” I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll be back.”

And I would try to explain to her what I meant by “reward.” Because clearly she needed a lesson in appropriate gratification.