Under by Duress(47)

By: Kayla Stonor

“You were protecting me from the start.”

“Actually, you did a fairly good job of protecting me, although your methods were a little extreme. Do you keep tame bears in the woods just to scare the crap out of your conquests?”

She laughed. “No, he was the real deal.”

“And I didn’t like you nearly drowning the both of us. And if I ever meet up with Hank, I will kick his sorry ass all the way to China.”

Tahima buried her head in her hands. “Oh God, I can’t bear it.”

Rossini pulled her into his arms. “I have a plan for that.”

“You do?”

“I’m abducting you to my private island. There I plan to torture you senseless for two days, after your cute little behind has recovered, that is.”

Tahima squirmed. “Now why doesn’t that terrify me?”

“Because when I’m done with you, I’m all yours.”

Her stomach flipped. “All mine. To do with you whatever I want?”

He growled deep in his throat. “I give you my word. So I’d better tread very carefully, hadn’t I?”

~ Chapter Twelve ~

Tahima woke up, stretched, and ran her fingers up and down the man she loved. The last two weeks had been idyllic, but her desire for Rossini was like an itch that needed to be scratched.

Unfortunately, Rossini was treating her too much like bone china. Fortunately, she knew exactly what buttons to press to get him to stop.

She started by trailing kisses down his neck, his chest, and down to his belly. She dipped her tongue in and out of his navel until his consistently responsive cock raised the sheet giving her room to nuzzle nearer to her prize. Rossini’s hand gripped her hair and nudged her closer to the vertical shaft. She worked her way up his cock and swirled her tongue around its head.

His groan was animal-like. Satisfied he was being well looked after, he let her go. Tahima grasped his head in her teeth and bit gently. His hips thrust towards her and she pulled away. Then she slipped out of the covers before he could register that she had gone and padded to the bathroom.


“Sorry. I need to pee.”

He scowled and lay back. So began a long day of frustration for Gian Rossini.

He began to suspect her plan midday when she began pleasuring herself on the sun lounger by the swimming pool while he was in a conference call trying not to watch her through the window.

After fifteen minutes, he came out with sun cream. “Tahima, why are you trying to drive me crazy?”

“Am I?” she said lazily, enjoying the way he sensuously caressed the cream between her shoulder blades, and then down her back, his fingers dipping under her practically non-existent bikini briefs. “Do you notice anything, Rossini?”

“Err . . . a gorgeous ass.”

“A gorgeous, brown ass. Note one color. No black, blue, purple, or yellow in sight.”

“I think I’m getting your drift, Tahima.”


“So you’re tormenting me on purpose?”

Tahima turned and stretched out like a cat. Then she reached out, took the bottle out of his hands and poured oil on her breasts. “Look, no touch.”

“Then, how . . .”

Tahima showed him. She kneaded, teased and stroked her nipples until they were so hard Rossini could not bear it.

She slapped his hand away. “Only one way you’re getting me tonight, Rossini. I suggest you put your thinking cap on.”

By evening, Rossini was playing her at her own game and Tahima was so frustrated she thought she might explode. The staff took steps to avoid the looming showdown—the cook presented a buffet for dinner and they were left to serve themselves.

Rossini grinned to discover they were entirely alone. “You frightened my staff away.”

“How convenient.”

“Red or white?”

“Red, please.”

“Good choice. This is a Chateau La Conseillante 1982 Pomerol. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”

Tahima wandered over and accepted the glass he handed her. She sipped it and scraped her teeth across her bottom lip, guaranteeing Rossini followed her every move. Then she walked over to the fireplace, stood on the Persian white rug, and slowly tilted her glass.