Primal Attraction

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Chapter Eighteen

Johanna smiled as she watched the twenty ladies arrive in the four black SUVs that met them at the airport, amidst the dozens of reporters who stood outside the hotel snapping photos. All it took was a few phone calls, and her plane was filled with women even before the sunset.

Patrick insisted it was time for his trainees to take on more responsibilities, and convinced Samuel to allow them to escort the ladies instead of the guard. So far, they looked like they knew what was going on, but he wanted to test them. He would have to discuss a surprise event with his cohorts, to test the new constables’ reactions.

“Blankenship looks like he’s going to have a stroke,” Walter chuckled, watching the disapproving expression on the man’s face as the constables showed the women into the building.

They stopped by Johanna and bowed, then continued their path to the elevator. She watched the women, wondering what was going to happen over the next few weeks, while they reinstated themselves into the region’s daily activities.

“A.J. has been spreading the word among the young men,” Samuel said, glancing to the blonde who stood inside the elevator, anxiously looking through the front windows. “The residents are already reserving spots, and the boys have been signing up for lessons since news of the temporary bordello was announced.”

“The men have earned a break,” Walter said, “and the boys need to be taught to respect their feminine counterparts. Besides, it’s time the women of this region are reintroduced to passion in the bedroom.”

“I’m all for that,” Samuel whispered next to Johanna, who blushed softly.

“Have your men make certain the ladies are comfortable, then have them begin as soon as they’re ready. The sooner we get the boys started on their lessons, the quicker we can get life settled down around here.”

Johanna turned to go back to her room when she saw Blankenship staring angrily at the women. His arms were folded across his chest, and a sour expression pulled his mouth down.

“Ask Shawna to pencil in a time for Mr. Blankenship,” Johanna said with a small grin. “Perhaps he could benefit from a bit of…relaxation.”

The day was filled with one visit after another. Every place they went, there were people calling out her name, asking if she was having sex with her guard. They toured the recently refurbished sex toy building, or marital aid factory as Samuel called it. She was told how the toys were made, the material that was used, and the delicate wiring necessary for those that provided a vibrating sensation.

Johanna was very impressed by the intricate technology behind every piece, the specific size that had to be maintained in all of the toys. She saw the molds used for the penis designed phalluses and the leather used for the whips. By the time they left the factory, she knew more about the details that went into making the toys pleasurable, than she ever thought she would.

She met once again, briefly, with the school district and told them of her plan to return the bordellos to the Region. She visited a dozen homeowners who had taken advantage of her financial deal, and were returning to their homes. All remnants of the burned factory had been removed and the foundation of the recycling plant was already poured. The land that once held the factory, too damaged for repair, had been cleared and Walter showed her plans for the cannery.

Johanna arranged to have the original floor plans from King Edward’s journals delivered to her which she gave to Walter. The two new bordellos, as well as the private housing for the Ladies, were currently under construction and Walter had managed to hire nearly twenty additional carpenters from Northern Shores itself, adding to the excitement of rebuilding the Region.

Businesses were being reopened on the poorer side of town, and the streets were already being repaired. The schools reported to be at full capacity and truckloads full of food were being delivered by donating farms around the nearby Regions. A farmer’s market was established in three locations and people were allowed to take what they needed, each being given a voucher from Johanna with a specific amount to spend, based on the size of their families. The general feeling of the island was one of contentment and relief. The sting of rejection had been lifted and neighbors were beginning to speak to each other.

“We’ll need a place to store the supplies for the ladies,” Johanna said into her cell phone as she entered the room, followed close behind by Samuel. She removed her shoes as she spoke, tossing them into the living room.

“Mary, I’m sending you a full list of the items necessary,” she continued, addressing her assistant. “I need them here by the end of the week. I want the first session to begin on Saturday morning.”

“Yes ma’am,” Mary told her. “I also have the invoices for the services already being provided. Shall I forward them to you?”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll call the bank and open an account specifically for this venture. I’m going to put your name on it, as well, so you can pay the bills as they come in. I want a weekly accounting of where the money is going.”

“Yes, ma’am. I think I have everything you need. I’ll get busy on it immediately.”

“Thank you, Mary. And one other thing, I want you to take the money out of the account I’m setting up and take your husband to supper. You’re going to be very busy over the next few weeks, so I’d rather you have a chance to relax now, and then after it’s finished, I’m giving you and your husband a holiday. You deserve it, and it may be the last one you get before the baby is born.”

“That’s very kind of you, Miss Johanna,” Mary said with a tone of surprise.

“It’s very little for everything you’re doing for me. I’ll talk with you in the morning.”

“Yes ma’am, oh there was one more thing,” Mary told her preventing her from hanging up. “The press is demanding a statement from you regarding your relationship with Captain Carrington.”

“The statement you can offer in response is that I do not answer to demands from the press. Call me when you have everything ready to ship.”

Johanna hung up, tossing her phone to the sofa beside her as she fell into the cushions. She was exhausted and felt like an elastic band had been placed around her head. Her back hurt, her legs ached, and she was extremely frustrated by the lack of panties. She could only hope Samuel was feeling the same, or worse.

“Things are going much better, and much quicker than anyone anticipated,” Samuel told her as he handed her the fruity concoction he had been making for her every day.

“I’m impressed with all the work your father has done,” she told him accepting the glass. “Once this bordello idea takes hold, things should become much calmer and we’ll be able to take a break of our own.”

“I’d like that,” he said, joining her on the sofa. “I think we should take a long weekend and a small boat and have wild crazy sex.”

“We have that now,” she laughed looking over her shoulder as a soft knock sounded, followed by the appearance of Patrick.

He escorted a young bellboy into the room, along with a cart of food they’d ordered before leaving the hotel.

Samuel stood and walked to the door, instructing the boy to leave the cart. Johanna took the remote and flipped on the television, then began clicking through channels until she found the evening news.

Once again, she was the main topic of conversation, this time much more appraising than last night’s report. Several interviews were conducted with Northern Shores residents, all very positive. Like most of the reports over the past few weeks, a young reporter tried to get an interview from Lord Sorensen, but unlike those in the past, he refused to comment.

“It’s because the old bastard knows he’s lost,” Patrick told her as he joined her in the living room, one of Samuel’s drinks in his hand.

“He didn’t have anything to win,” Samuel said, bringing Johanna’s supper plate to her, then sitting beside her with a plate of his own.

“It was his decision to close everything here down,” Patrick said. “My father said he and the others disagreed, but he was convinced that by closing down the factories, it would bring more homes to the area and more taxes to the treasury.”

“He’s delusional,” Samuel grumbled.

“He closed them down because it added resources to his own Region,” Johanna said. “The factories in his district picked up the majority of the contracts left behind by their closing. His people benefited by the increased work while those of Northern Shores was left to fend for themselves.”

“It wouldn’t have happened if there was a Leader,” Samuel told her. “This Region has been without one for far too long.”

“I will make the announcement that the Summerhays’ are taking over as leaders when I meet with the press and try to do a bit of damage control.”

“So, what’s going on with you two?” Patrick asked removing his sword and setting it on the floor beside him.

“That is no more your business than the rest of the island’s,” Johanna answered matching gazes with the man.

“I apologize,” he said, looking to Samuel with a frown when she looked away.

“It’s been a very long day,” Samuel said in her defense. “Everywhere we went, there were people asking the same question. After hearing it all day long, it wears on your nerves.”

“I don’t need you to make excuses for me,” Johanna said bitterly. “The reason I don’t find it any of your business, is because it isn’t. You may be Samuel’s friend, but you’re not mine.”

“Have I done something to offend you?” Patrick asked, watching as Johanna set her plate on the coffee table and stood up.

“After the way, you acted the other night at the club, and you have the nerve to ask that?” she snapped. “I don’t know if I’m appalled by your behavior or if I’m disgusted that Samuel approves of it.”

“What did I do?”

“I’m surprised you still have a wife, but then Samuel says it’s common in your Region and your wife is as unfaithful as you are. I don’t approve of the public display of affection you were giving a woman who was neither your wife, nor a lady of the bordello.”

“Your Majesty, it’s not cheating,” Patrick tried to explain.

“I’m sorry, what else would you call a man who has sex with other women while being married?”

“But it’s not exactly sex. I never have pu…vaginal sex,” he said, noticing the narrowing of her eyes when he began to say the one word that she barely tolerated from Samuel. “Olivia and I agree, that is for our marriage. It’s sacred to both of us.”

“Sacred?” she snorted in a disgusted laugh. “You wouldn’t know sacred if the Lord came down and explained it in person. Whether you have sex vaginally or not, it is still sex, and it is still adultery.”

“How is taking a woman in her ass, or down her throat considered sex?” he asked standing to confront the queen.

“Tell me this. What do you constitute the definition of sex as being?”

“It’s having sex vaginally,” he told her.

“It is the activity involving any form of intercourse, including specifically vaginal intercourse. In your case, it is the action of a male to female encounter, in which the penetration of a penis is introduced into an orifice of another person for the purpose of ejaculation. I suggest, Lieutenant Reading, you learn the definition of the term before you hide behind it like a bloody shield.”

Johanna turned and walked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her, leaving the two men to watch her in shock.

“What the hell was that?” Patrick asked his friend.

“As I said, it’s been a very long day.”

Johanna slid beneath the surface of the water until she was immersed to her chin. She hadn’t seen or heard from Samuel since leaving him and Patrick alone in the living room. She wasn’t sure if he was even here or not.

She felt ashamed for what she’d said and had no idea why she went off on the man. Perhaps it was the irritation and aggravation of being confronted by every reporter on the island, more interested in her love life than what she was doing for the people. Either way, she seemed to just explode and she had no control of her tongue. It just happened Patrick was the one in the line of fire.

After nearly an hour of lounging in the hot water, soothed by the bubbles of the spraying jets, she felt calm enough to face the rest of the evening. She pulled the drain and shut off the jets but remained in the tub until it had nearly drained completely. Wrapping the large towel around her tiny frame, she climbed out of the bath and over to the sink where she saw a paper of instructions and a plastic bottle.

She felt the heat radiate into her face as she read the instructions. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to allow him to do this. That was if he was still there. With a resigned sigh, Johanna prepared the bottle, running it under hot water until it was warm. She sat on the toilet, following the instructions and inserted the nozzle into her rectum. Ten minutes later she had finished the prep, as the paper called it, and disposed of the bottle in the trash, then padded her way back into the bedroom.

The suite was silent, the sound of the television in the living room no longer echoed through the stillness. Johanna pulled on the long black nightgown and slid her feet into the soft fluffy slippers then walked out into the living room. She half expected both men to be waiting, but she found nothing. The lamp in the living room had been left on, but there was no sign of human life anywhere.

She went to the bar and poured a glass of whiskey. She seemed to be racking up quite a list of people she owed apologies to, she thought. Tonight, was just another of many.

Returning to the office, she opened her computer and pulled up her email. There was a letter from Ward Carson, with information he’d discovered about the fateful trip of her parents. She cross-referenced the information with the computer and frowned. If this was correct, her parents plane may have been thrown much farther off course than even Reginald suspected.

The next hour was spent in the office researching the information and studying the map she’d taken the photo of. The door to the office opened slowly, and she turned to see Samuel entering. He had an expression of caution on his handsome face as he sat in the chair across from her. They sat in silence for several long moments. They were both tired and frustrated, but nowhere close to surrendering.

“I’ll apologize to Patrick in the morning,” she said in a hushed voice.

“You made him start thinking,” Samuel told her, watching her close her computer and stand up. “Saying that, unless you have sex in the pussy it isn’t sex, is an excuse people have hidden behind for years. You made him realize what he and Olivia had been doing to each other. When he left here, he called her, and they talked for almost a full hour. She’s coming down here, so they can work out their indifferences.”

“I know things are unusual on this island, but I will never fully appreciate the addiction people have for sex. I understand the need and the theory of the Bordellos, and I know I for one am quite happy with the way you were taught to bond…make…love,” she said, forcing the word from her lips.

Samuel looked at her as she stopped in front of him, then reached out and took her hand.

“One step at a time,” he whispered, then kissed her hand before standing up.

“Do you think I’m a prude?” she asked as they walked out of the office and back into the living room.

“Why would you ask such a thing?”

“The twins always called me a prude whenever they came back from an encounter with a guy they’d just met.”

“If the fact that you refused to give yourself to every man who smiled at you or refuse to be swayed by a pretty face makes you a prude, then so be it. As for me, I’m quite happy you saved yourself.”

“I wish I could make myself understand the way people are so…fixated with sex, but I can’t. It’s fun, and it’s amazing at how a body responds to orgasm, but I won’t ever completely comprehend the lust a person feels or the stupid things they do in order to obtain a sexual experience.”

“You read too much into things,” Samuel told her as he pulled her once again into his embrace. “Not everything has a logical answer. Sometimes you just have to…feel something, instead of understanding it.”

“I suppose,” she answered thoughtfully. “But even a feeling has a logical explanation. Take the feelings I had for you when we first met. It was not love, nor lust. It was a primal attraction. An inherited part of our genetic makeup, that made me…interested. It wasn’t until we…that’s when I realized I had feelings for you. Even then, I don’t know that I would have called it love. More…lustful intrigue.”

“Primal attraction, huh,” he said with a half grin. “I suppose that’s a good way to rationalize it if you find the need to hold onto something firm.”

“It’s true. Sexual stimulation is a subconscious desire that has preoccupied humans since time began. Poets write about it, singers sing about it, and lovers talk about it.”

“Maybe it’s just one of those things you aren’t meant to understand,” he suggested.

“I suppose,” she said sadly.

“Darling, stop trying to rationalize it.”

“I have always believed, and have been taught, that the act of sexual intercourse is for the purpose of procreation, not recreation.”

“You mean you don’t enjoy having sex?” he asked, leaning down and kissing her shoulder.

Johanna turned in his arms so her back was facing him, and moved her hair out of the way, allowing him an unobstructed path to her neck.

“I do enjoy it, but I think that’s what makes the desire to reproduce necessary. If a person didn’t enjoy having sex, then what’s the purpose of having it? We’d be no better than a turtle, or the goldfish, producing for the sole purpose of creating offspring.”

“What you’re saying is that the sexual stimulation of the act of procreation is as necessary as the act itself?” he asked taking advantage of her new position to explore her shoulder and neck.


“Then the positions involved are…what? The need to contort the body in ways in which to allow the sperm and egg to make contact quicker than if the deed was performed missionary style.”

“Perhaps,” she answered, leaning her head back as his lips moved up to her ear.

“Then let’s see if we can practice this art of procreation,” he whispered, licking and sucking her earlobe.

Johanna moaned as he slipped his hands into the low V neck of her gown. He played with her breasts for several long moments before he walked to the door, locking it so nobody could interrupt them. He returned to the sofa, then swooped down and lifted her into his embrace.

Their lips met as he carried her into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him. Very slowly he moved to the bed, laying her on top of the covers. His hand returned to her breast, then slowly up her chest to the strap of her gown. He pulled it off her shoulder before breaking contact with her lips to fill his mouth with as much of her breast as he could suck into it.

Johanna closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel the heat as it spread through her veins, warming every part of her young body. It had been a long day, there was no denying that. Not wearing underwear all day did not help the situation, but now as he explored and teased her flesh, she understood - in part at least - the desire of enjoying sex.

“I think you lost the bet,” he growled, moving just far enough away from her to slip the other strap off her shoulder, exposing both breasts to his hungry eyes.

“How do you see that?” she asked, feeling the beat of her heart as he stared at her near nudity.

“I may have been wound up all day, but you allowed the long hours of no panties to wear on you until you snapped. Anger is a sign of frustration.”

“Is that a fact? And where did you hear that?”

“It’s common knowledge. When a person is sexually frustrated, they become angry and agitated. Haven’t you ever heard the saying, frustration begets anger and anger begets aggression?”

“You believe my anger towards your friend was because I was sexually frustrated?”

“Without a doubt, my queen,” he smiled, standing to remove his clothes and boots, then pulling the gown all the way off, tossing it to the floor. “Very nice,” he said in a deep tone. “I approve of the lack of underwear.”

“I was afraid of losing another pair,” she said with a soft giggle.

“And you would,” he assured her, rejoining her on the bed. “Now, as for our bargain…”

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” she asked with a frown.

“I am, and I have something for you that will help.”

He stood back up and walked into the living room, returning a moment later with a brown package. He laid it on her stomach and smiled as she sat up, looking at it.

“Do I dare ask?”

“Just open it,” he told her.

He sat down next to her, watching as she slipped the wrapping off a pink metal case. She flipped the small lock and opened the lid, staring at Samuel with wide eyes.

“It’s a beginner's set,” he told her. “The bordellos sell them to help the man please his woman at home.”

“How did you get this?”

“I asked Shawna to bring me one when she came down here.”

“How do you know the Head Mistress?” she asked with a suspicious frown.

“She was one of my instructors.”

“What is all this stuff?” she asked ignoring the sudden feeling of jealousy that his former instructor was going to be the Head Mistress of the bordello until the homes were built.

“Things to play with and help stimulate you,” he chuckled taking the box and moving further onto the bed.

Johanna moved to sit across from him as he laid the box out and began removing objects.

“I know what they are, I learned all of that today, and it looks a lot like the kit you have back at your house, but what I meant was what are you going to do with them?”

“You mean we,” he clarified. “There’s no sense in my having them unless I have you to play with.”

“Alright, so what are we going to start with?”

“You’re not objecting?” he asked suspiciously.

“There’s no point, is there? You’d just talk me into it anyway, so why not skip the intermission and move straight on to the performance.”

“Have I told you how much I love you?” he asked then froze at the expression that stole into her face. He sat silent for a moment as she pulled herself under control, looking back at the box.

“No,” she answered.

“Let’s try some of these out on that very lovely body,” he said, hoping to bypass the sudden awkwardness. “Do you know why men like to spank?” he asked removing the leather-bound paddle.

“Because you’re mean?”

“No, because we want you to surrender your trust to us, and a little pain helps to stimulate the encounter. That’s what this is for,” he told her removing a slender, short handled riding crop.

“You’re going to try and beat me?”

“No, I am going to spank you,” he smiled watching as she fought her smile by biting her bottom lip. “You saw the mold for this,” he continued holding up a phallus-shaped vibrator. “King Edward was the first to introduce dildos to Westerly, and they have become a favorite among the women. I’m going to show you how to use it so the next time you’re frustrated and angry, you can take care of the matter yourself.”

“It looks like I won’t be needing you around much longer, as long as I have this box.”

“That’s what you think,” he growled slapping her breast with the crop.

Johanna yelped and backed away, only to have him move the box and come to her. He kissed her hard, rolling her on top of him and holding her legs down with his. She tried to escape his grip, knowing it would be simple if she really wanted to, yet she merely struggled. He pressed his tongue into her mouth as he caressed the crop over her bottom. He reached up and wound his fingers in her hair, battling with her tongue then slapping her on the backside with the leather tip.

Samuel chuckled in his throat as she tried to move away from him, but quickly settled down again when he caressed her buttocks. Again, he slapped her and again she tried to escape, but not as forcefully as the first time. With each slap he gave her, he spent several long moments caressing her until she was panting, wiggling her hips against his hard arousal pressing against her.

“You liked that, didn’t you baby?” he asked as he released her lips, allowing her to gasp for air.

“If I didn’t, you’d be in pain right now,” she assured him, smiling as he laughed.

“Okay then, let’s try a few other things.”

Without releasing her he reached for the vibrator he had pulled out of the box, setting the whip aside. Johanna watched as he tried to rummage through the box, growling when he couldn’t find what he was looking for.

“Can you get the gel?” he asked her, surrendering and allowing her to push herself up on her elbows.

“Which one?” she asked pulling two small bottles out of the metal box.

“The warming one.”

Johanna set the second bottle aside and opened the top on the one in her hand. The aroma of vanilla beans drifted up from the thick gel and she smiled.

“Now what?” she asked him.

“I’ll take the gel, you hold this,” he said, exchanging the vibrator for the bottle.

Samuel leaned up and kissed her, once again holding her head so she couldn’t resist his lips or tongue. He wanted to help her enjoy this, but he was starting to grow eager and knew if he didn’t find his own release soon, he may never show her how much pleasure this box could give her.

“We can’t do it like this,” he growled, rolling her onto her back. Samuel knelt between her legs caressing her from breast to labia.

“Did you follow the instructions I left for you in the bathroom?” he asked.

“Yes, but it was embarrassing as hell.”

“Why? Who was watching?”

“Nobody…but it was still embarrassing.”

“Well, it was necessary,” he told her with a deep chuckle. “This is going to help you relax and get into the mood to let me fill that hole.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, and I promise, you’re going to like it too. But, as much as I love looking at this side of you, I really need you to roll onto your tummy.”

Johanna drew a deep breath and did as he instructed, hoping to get this over with.

“When you’re finished, you better do a lot more than just…” she paused for half a heartbeat, “fuck me.”

Samuel laughed as he slapped her bottom, then slipped his hand between her legs and raised her hips. Holding her effortlessly, he squeezed two drops of the gel, allowing it to cascade down across her anus, then set the bottle aside. Very tenderly he began to massage the gel, smiling as she moaned. The heat of the liquid was doing its job and was stimulating and relaxing her, allowing him all the time in the world to play with her.

Very carefully, he slid his index finger inside her bottom, smiling as she tightened around it, moaning as he drew the gel in on his digit. He slowly moved his finger out then back in, over and over until she was panting.

Taking the bottle and squeezing another two drops, he allowed it to seep into the small opening his finger created. Again, she moaned and again he inserted his finger, joining it with a second one. Her bottom tightened, and her hips squirmed, but he continued to thrust through the opening, spreading his fingers wide as he pulled them out. Over and over his fingers thrust, opening the hole slightly bigger each time he came out. Once more he dropped the gel into the hole, this time using his three middle fingers to open her up.

Johanna felt like a fire was burning in her bottom and she liked it. It was slick and hot, and his fingers were causing a series of tingles she had yet to experience. It was as if every nerve in her body had woken up and was demanding a turn to spark. She closed her eyes as she felt his three fingers insert into her, but she didn’t care. The sensation was so wonderful, she didn’t want it to end.

“You need to move into the middle of the bed and get up on your knees,” he ordered watching as she followed his instructions.

She turned to watch him climb up beside her, using the bottle to squeeze two thick drops of liquid onto his penis. He moaned as he began to spread it across the length of him, and she closed her eyes. She knew exactly what he was feeling.

Samuel quickly moved up behind her, his fingers returning to her bottom. She was certain he was going to make her cum with just his fingers as he spread her hole larger.

“Rest your arms and head on the bed,” he instructed in a deep husky voice.

Johanna did as he told her, gasping as he spread her legs slightly further apart, pressing on her hips.

“This is going to be tight at first and it may sting, but it won’t last.”

Before Johanna could speak, to tell him she needed more time, she felt the tip of his hard arousal press into her. The sensation was strange and there was just a hint of pain as he slowly slipped further inside. Moments later she could feel the full length of him sheathed inside her bottom and she moaned. The sensation was different, yet not painful as she expected. The only time she’d felt him so deep inside her was when she sat on his lap. This time there was nothing to block him from filling her.

“God you’re tight,” he moaned as he pulled out almost completely, then thrust back in.

“Oh, dear Lord,” she said, feeling an intense fire burning between them.

Samuel pulled out and pushed back in twice more feeling her tighten around him. He was going to allow her to cum first before he showed her how much fun having both holes filled was. Before he could finish his thought, she was tightening around him, crying out her release. Samuel continued his slow steady thrusting, taking her further over the edge until she nearly collapsed to the mattress beneath him, panting.

“Do you like it now?” he asked her, stilling his movements as he remained buried inside her.

“That was…”

“Yes…” he probed.

“Amazing,” she finished causing him to laugh.

“If you think that was good, wait until you try this. Sit up and rest against me,” he ordered leaning back on his legs as she did as he instructed.

Her movement drew him deeper into her and he nearly found his own release but forced himself to remain still.

Taking the vibrator, he gently began to caress it across her labia, smiling as she gasped. He played with her for just a couple of moments, then turned on the motor and pressed her against him with a firm hand across her tummy.

Johanna moaned as he rubbed the vibrating phallus against her clitoris. It was an incredible sensation, and she was soon beginning to understand the fascination with sex. Leaning her head back against his shoulder he allowed her to do whatever he wished, feeling his hot breath on her neck as he began kissing her. She tightened her bottom around him, feeling his twitching deep inside. Then she tensed as he pressed the phallus into her wet vaginal canal.

“What the hell?” she gasped, unable to sit up by the strong arm he had around her waist.

“Just relax and let the vibrator do its job,” he ordered, moving the tube in and out of her as if it was real.

Moments passed before she relaxed, feeling the wonderful sensation of having both holes filled. She had never imagined such a thing was possible, but there she was, in his arms, allowing him to do things to her she never knew imaginable.

Once she relaxed, Samuel knew he was safe and began thrusting in and out of her, opposite of the vibrator. As it came out, he went in, causing a continual motion that had her panting. Thrust after thrust left her breathless until she was sure the world was about to explode. As she felt him harden inside her, she began to experience the beginnings of an orgasm like nothing she’d had so far.

She clung to his thighs as he rode her hard, thrusting and plunging until she cried out. She could feel his hot seed spill into her as he growled savagely, pressing her hips against him so hard she thought she could feel him in her stomach. His thrusting continued as he filled her again, forcing her orgasm to continue with him.

Johanna collapsed to the bed with Samuel behind her. They lay panting, the vibrator buzzing on the mattress in front of her as they struggled to regain their composure. The night was easily slipping away, but she really didn’t care. Tomorrow would be here soon enough, but as for now, she was in the arms of the only man she’d ever…loved…and she was far from anxious for the night to end.

The next day started promptly at four o’clock, with Johanna’s normal routine of prayer and yoga. Samuel lay in the bed watching her, amazed that she could move in so many awkward positions, then smiled when he thought of how they could put her skills to work.

He had chosen to contact Westerly’s Royal Navy before coming back to Johanna last night. He arranged for Admiral Compton to come to Northern Shores and discuss her desire to continue Reginald’s search. He informed Johanna of his intervention shortly before falling asleep and wasn’t certain if she was going to be able to sleep after that. She was wound up and anxious to get one task off her plate before returning to the palace.

Breakfast was more of a meeting of the minds than a meal, with Walter, his foreman Liam Proctor, the plumber Nelson Ricardo, Samuel, Patrick, and Johanna. They had chosen to meet in the hotel’s restaurant, away from the intimacy of her suite, and closer to the curious eyes of the press. She wanted them to be aware that she was not hiding from rumors or gossip. A simple breakfast of eggs, toast, and fruit sat on a china plate before the queen, while she went over the itinerary for the day.

Walter and Liam were going to continue with the factories, while Nelson went to work on the pipes at the apartment complex. Samuel had set Patrick in charge of training new constables and providing around the clock guards to protect the region and its people. Johanna wanted the visible sign of authority, to show there were ramifications for breaking the laws.

She pulled Samuel’s arm closer to her, looking at his watch, then wiped her mouth on the napkin she had set on her lap, and stood up. Admiral Compton would be there in ten minutes, and she needed to have the information ready when he arrived. There were too many things to do, to waste time searching for documents, maps, or coordinates.

Samuel joined her as she stepped back into the lift, along with two of his guards. She greeted A.J. with a warm smile, then looked out the glass doors, trying to calm her nerves. Walter and the others left to begin their jobs, and Patrick went to review the background testing of the new constables.

Once inside her room, Johanna hurried into the office and turned on her laptop. She arranged for coffee and pastries for her guest and watched the young maid who arrived a few minutes after they returned to the room. She placed the silver tray on a small table, then bobbed a small curtsey before batting her eyes at Samuel and leaving the suite. Johanna rolled her eyes and returned to her preparations as Samuel’s phone rang.

He picked it up and smiled, offering her a wink that assured her he’d seen her reaction to the maid. He instructed the caller to escort their guest up, then returned his phone to his pocket and stood. He could see the nervous tension form across Johanna’s delicate features and knew she needed a little distraction.

“Now that you understand the importance of your holes,” he began with a wicked smile, “we’ll review the many ways in which to use them. There’s still one that you need to explore, and I’m very eager to help you.”

“Do you ever think of anything other than sex?” she smiled as the doorbell to her suite rang.

“Yes, but it’s not as much fun.”

Samuel leaned in and kissed her lips, hard and urgent, then walked out of the room to answer the door.

Johanna smiled to herself. She was far from stupid. She knew he was trying to distract her thoughts, so she could collect her emotions, and she appreciated it. Even if it did leave her warm and anxious.

Samuel returned with Admiral Compton, introducing him to the new queen. Johanna stood and shook his hand, inviting both men to sit. The man was far from what she expected. He was around fifty years old, long dark hair pulled into a ponytail at the back of his neck, and neatly trimmed sideburns. He was only about five feet nine inches tall and weighed as much as a wet sock.

He wore a uniform like Samuel’s. His tunic was a white satin, his slacks black, but instead of the sash around his waist, he wore a black open front jacket. On the left lapel were several metal pins and a bar of colorful ribbons, on the right was his name and rank embroidered in purple. His uniform ended with the same, highly polished knee-high boots. On his head was a black three corner pirate cap of black velvet. On the front left corner were two white stripes, one purple, and three gold bars.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware of the events that caused my parents’ possible deaths,” she began as she sat down behind the desk again.

“I know only what the papers reported,” the man said, removing his hat, and accepting the cup of coffee Samuel handed him. “They were on a mission of mercy if I recall, and their plane disappeared during a storm in the Indian Ocean.”

“Precisely,” she answered, smiling as Samuel set a china cup down in front of her, then took one for himself and sat down. “My cousin, King Reginald, was researching their disappearance. He didn’t believe that their plane had gone down where the Coast Guard claimed, so he started doing his own investigation. He believed that the storm threw them further off course, and instead of searching northeast, they should have been searching southwest.”

“At the time, I was a Captain for the WRS Andrew Abbott, a small vessel that was commissioned to secure the east docks of the island, in preparation of the storms,” the admiral said, taking a cherry tart from the plate Samuel set on the desk. “I remember the king had sent out two of our vessels to search the area, but they didn’t find anything.”

“I’m aware of that, but Reginald had new information that he was never able to act on,” Johanna said, hearing the small clock above the fireplace strike nine fifteen. “In his journal, he mentioned that he believed the storm was a cyclone, and the plane was thrown much farther off course than he originally predicted.”

Johanna handed a packet of papers she had printed to the man, then watched as he wiped his mouth with his fingers, then wiped his fingers on his thigh.

“According to what I’ve been able to find on the internet, the storm the Painted Lady encountered, was one of the worst India has suffered since 1891. The winds were clocked at eighty-five miles an hour. Taking that into account, as well as their exact time of departure, and the coordinates of their last transmission, I believe they may have been thrown farther southwest than even Reginald assumed.”

Johanna pulled the lid open on her laptop and turned it, so Compton and Samuel could see it.

“My father was ill,” she continued. “He had a fever of 103.4 degrees, Fahrenheit. My mother was not a pilot, but based on the information she gave flight control, she was having to steer the plane. Their plane was a Challenger 604, a small private jet, capable of speeds up to 345 miles per hour, and a maximum altitude of 41,000 feet.”

She showed them a picture of the plane from her personal album as she spoke.

“At the time of their last transmission, my mother said they were flying at twenty-seven thousand feet. She said my father was conscious but weak, and he wanted her to try and get above the storm. They reached thirty thousand feet, and there was a loud popping sound, then my mother called the tower. With the use of some very specially designed programs, my private investigator was able to clean it up a little.”

She opened the recording and watched as Samuel and the admiral heard her mother’s frantic voice through a wave of garbled static.

“Tower…” the woman’s voice said, then was cut off by a string of static. “We had…fire…trying to get… going down…engine gone…Johanna…” then the recording stopped.

“Did she say there was a fire?” Samuel asked with a frown.

“I believe the popping sound that was heard was lightning striking one of the engines, however, Reginald believed the plane may have been sabotaged,” Johanna continued. “According to my calculations, if they were able to get as high as thirty thousand feet, with their top speed and the combined winds, even with only one engine, the plane would have been thrown off course around here,” she said, pointing to the area on the map, displayed on her computer, that had a small circle.

“But there’s nothing there,” Compton said with a frown that made her think he was wondering if the new queen was crazy.

“That’s what this map says,” she told him, pulling up the photo she’d taken of King Ian’s map. “The oceans have been explored for thousands of years, but nobody knew these waters better than pirates. This map belonged to Bloody John, and if you look here…” she enlarged the photo and pointed to the same area on the older map.

“Is that an island?” Samuel asked.

“I believe it is,” she answered, her tone more excited than it had been a few minutes before. “If they found this island, I believe they would have tried to land. What I want from you,” she told the admiral, straightening up and staring into his dark brown eyes, “is your ship and a few hours of time. I want this area searched, but not by plane. This part of the ocean is out of the main travel path of ships and planes, and something this small won’t be seen from the air.”

“What are you hoping to find?” the admiral asked as she turned the computer around to face her. “It’s been twenty years. If they did manage to land, they wouldn’t have survived.”

“I’m not expecting miracles,” she said in a firm voice and a shake of her head. “I just want to find a sign of wreckage.”

“I’ll get in touch with the WRS Iron-Fist immediately,” the admiral said, draining the last of his coffee from his cup and taking the final bite of his pastry. “I checked with them this morning on my way here. At top speed, they should make it to the area in two or three days.”

“Thank you for all your help,” Johanna said with a deep breath as she shook the man’s hand again.

“It may take some time to search an area that large, but if there’s anything there, we’ll find it.”

“As I said, I’m not expecting to find anything substantial,” she told the man as she walked him to the front door. “If there is an island, it’s going to be small, so you’ll have to be careful when searching it. I’ll be happy if you can find a candy wrapper or an old toothbrush.”

“We won’t stop until we’re certain we’ve covered every square mile of ocean.”

Johanna stood aside while Samuel opened the door, shaking the man’s hand. The admiral turned back to Johanna with a warm smile.

“I’ll be in touch, Your Majesty,” he assured her.

“Johanna,” she insisted, watching him smile as he nodded his head and left, heading down the hall to the elevator with a quick step.

Samuel shut the door and turned around, seeing her step back into the office. He followed her in and watched as she shut off the computer and closed the screen.

“How long have you been living with this idea?” he asked her softly, watching her turn to smile at him.

“I learned about it from one of Reginald’s journals a couple of days before we left. It wasn’t until last night, that I was able to pull all the information together.”

“Have I told you, how truly amazing you are?” he smiled, walking to her side, and pulling her into his strong embrace.

“I believe you’ve mentioned it a time or two,” she giggled, then laughed when his mouth moved to her neck, nipping, and licking the delicate flesh.

Johanna squirmed in his arms as the clock chimed nine forty-five, and his hands began to move up the back of her snug peach colored top.

“Stop it,” she snapped, unable to sound as fierce as she would have wanted.

“We have a few minutes,” he assured her, trying to unfasten her bra around her wiggling torso.

“I cannot afford any more bad publicity.”

“But I can make this quick.”

“Later, I promise,” she told him, pushing out of his arms and straightening her blouse back across her chest.

“I’m going to hold you to that promise,” he smiled, trying to adjust his pants across the hard, tight swelling.

“And I’m going to hold you to yours.”

“What promise?” he frowned, watching with an amused smile as she walked around him to get out of the room.

“You said we were going on an exploration of each other’s bodies, and I expect you to do exactly that.”

“Never let it be said, I disobeyed a direct order from the Queen.”

Samuel and his guards took Johanna to the area where the apartment building was currently being repaired. She was amazed at the progress of Walter’s workers, and certain the residents would all be back into their comfortable homes by the end of the month. So far, there were only ten families who had to be displaced temporarily and was enjoying all that the Westerly Arms had to offer.

Next, they toured two properties that had once upon a time been farms. The land looked out onto the ocean and was almost fifty acres. After discovering that the property had been purchased five years ago, with only a down payment, it was easy for Johanna to contact the bank, who foreclosed on the new owners. With Walter’s assistance, plans were drawn up to divide the property into affordable seaside homes. She had decided to offer the homes to those homeowners, who were not getting their old properties back, due to outside investors.

Like everywhere she had gone that day, a small army of photographers and reporters tagged along but stayed out of the way. She was successful ignoring them, despite the occasional shout for her to look their way.

Samuel walked beside her as they left the empty land, and was heading to the car when a group of four young men approached them. They were in black jeans with matching, worn jackets, and Johanna immediately got an image of the T-Birds from Alissa’s favorite movie, Grease.

“Hey, you,” one of the four said, calling out to Johanna.

Samuel snapped his fingers, as three guards moved to stand in front of her, but she raised a hand and stopped them. She watched for a moment as the four young men approached her and stopped, glaring angrily to the men with swords and guns.

“Are you addressing me?” Johanna asked in a firm, but sweet voice.

“Yeah, I am,” the boy said. “You the queen?”

Johanna eyed the boy for a moment, estimating him to be around sixteen, maybe a little older. He had long, dirty dark hair and what she assumed was supposed to be a mustache, though it was barely more than a few oddly formed whiskers. His dark eyes looked at her with an arrogant stare that almost made her laugh.

“I am Queen Johanna,” she answered.

“Yeah, well, you ain’t welcome here,” the boy said as the three behind him, not much older, and just as filthy, nodded and grunted their agreement.

“Forgive me, but who doesn’t want me here?”

“We don’t,” he said, pointing to his friends, who again mumbled their agreement.

“I see,” she answered as she took a step closer to the boy, still out of harm’s way, but close enough to react. “And might I inquire as to whom you are?”

“Let’s just say, this is our turf, and we want you outta here.”

“Indeed?” she said with a feigned expression of surprise. “Well, I have spoken to more than four hundred residents of Northern Shores, who assure me, they do wish for me to be here. Since they are older and much more…educated,” she said, running her eyes deliberately down the boy’s length and back up again, “I must take their word for the matter. No offense.”

“Yeah…well…we said get lost. We have things under control and we don’t need a girl telling us how to run things.”

“If you have things under control, then please tell me where the jobs are coming from to support your families? Where are you hiding the food to feed them? And the clothes to keep them warm? What about the homes to keep them safe? And who is protecting them from being killed in their sleep?”

“We take care of our own,” the boy snapped.


“We keep those we don’t like outta our areas.”

“At the risk of repeating myself, how?”

“Look, we ain’t ascared to fight, and anyone who thinks to come into our turf pays the price for crossing the lines.”

“Is that a fact?” she asked, taking another step closer to the boy. “Well, I am crossing the lines, in fact, I’m erasing them off the map. What do you plan on doing about it?”

“If you didn’t have those guards with you, we’d show you how we’d take care of a pretty little thing like you.”

“Guards,” she called out, loud enough everyone around them could hear her. “Step back and lower your weapons. Under no circumstances are you to interfere. These…boys…are going to show me how they take care of girls.”

“Your Majesty,” Samuel began but was halted by a raise of her hand.

“You have your orders, Captain. Step back.”

She waited until she heard the shuffle of feet on the dry ground, her eyes locking defiantly with those of the boy in front of her.

“Now then,” she began in a quiet voice. “I believe you were going to show me how you defend your…turf? Is that what you called it?”

“They really just going to stand there and watch you get beaten and raped?”

“No, they plan on standing there and watching me beat you. The raping part I will leave to the women of the bordellos. I have much more exclusive tastes than street urchins.”

“You have a smart mouth, bitch,” the boy said snapping his fingers as his friends circled around Johanna. “I like that. I can’t wait to put it to use.”

One boy behind her reached out in the attempt to grab her when she stepped back and quickly jabbed her elbow into his ribcage. With lightning reflexes, she raised her palm into his nose as he bent over in pain, knocking him to the ground.

The sound of gasps and laughter echoed from the reporters across the road, but she refused to allow herself to become distracted. Without another word spoken, she reached out and grabbed the boy’s wrist in front of her, as he threw a punch toward her. She took a step around him, keeping her right leg in front of him, and forcibly snapped his elbow. The boy cried out in pain, then fell to the ground, his nose and mouth bleeding from the elbow she struck him with on his way down.

Following through with the heel of her palm against the third boy’s nose, she grabbed him by the arm and brought her knee upwards, cracking his ribs. The fourth and final boy stepped back, removed his jacket and did a spinning kick toward her. He let out a noise that sounded like a peacock scream, apparently in the attempt to frighten her.

She dodged the boy’s foot, then spun around, connecting her shoe to his face. He staggered backward but didn’t fall. He came back at her with another scream. His arms crossed in front of him, as he tried to flex what little muscles he possessed on his thin arms. The first thought that came to mind, was the boy had been watching too much television.

Johanna was done. She’d already embarrassed herself on camera and angered Samuel. She wasn’t going to stand here and listen to this child, pretending to be the Karate Kid. She quickly spun around again, knocking the boy off his feet with a foot to his chest, then brought her fist up into his face when he stumbled toward her, screaming.

Within the span of sixty seconds, she had subdued four boys, who thought to chase her off their turf, rendering them as helpless as newborn babes. She drew a deep breath and straightened her blouse, then looked at two guards who were staring at her in complete shock.

“Take these four to the nearest medical facility, then take them to the constable. I think it’s time the people of Northern Shores see what happens to those who try and frighten innocent citizens.”

Johanna walked toward the waiting limousine, then paused as the reporters came running over, questions flying in the air around her.

“I want everyone who has been threatened or abused by these four, and whatever gang they may have, to know that I will not put up with their bullying. I have tried to be patient, and I have tried to be firm, but I’m finished. If the so-called gangs of Westerly wish to play dirty, then I’ll be more than happy to meet them head-on.”

“What the hell was that all about?” Samuel growled once they were back in her room at the hotel.

She had arrived back at the hotel to a barrage of photographers, reporters, and Mr. Blankenship, who insisted she was inviting trouble by confronting the local gangs. He refused to allow his hotel to be a meeting place of ruffians.

Johanna was so angry, that she rounded on the man, despite the cameras flashing at her. She ordered him to remove himself from her sight, and told him, as plain as possible, that this was her hotel. The throne owned it, and she was the throne.

“I’m not going to apologize,” Johanna told the man in a loud, angry voice. “I’m sick and tired of the way this region has been treated. People are afraid to go out their own doors. Children aren’t playing in their yards for fear of being beaten or abused by these minors who should be in school. I will not stand by and watch any longer. I’m going to put a stop to it, right now.”

“How? By getting yourself killed? What if those boys had weapons? What would you have done then?”

“I’d have done exactly what I did, and worse. Anyone who pulls a weapon on me, will not be walking away. I’ve told you before, I can defend myself, and I will. I am here to protect these people, and to bring order back into the region.”

“I will not stand by and watch you deliberately put yourself in the line of fire,” he told her firmly, watching as she narrowed her eyes.

“Then leave,” she told him in a quiet voice. “Your services are no longer needed. Take your men and get out.”

Without another word, Samuel turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Johanna stood in the middle of the living room, angry, insulted, and humiliated. She walked slowly toward the small office off the living room but paused when she saw her reflection in the elaborately carved mirror.

For the first time since standing on her grandfather’s grave, she cried.

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