Island Slave Ch. 01

Quinn brought one hand to the shoulder of her suit, slipping a finger beneath it. When she didn't complain, he pulled it down. Carla's breast revealed itself in all its unremarkable glory. Quinn's head moved lower, caressing her nipple with a light touch of his tongue. Carla bent her head back, thrusting her chest towards his mouth. He sucked her areola in and letting his teeth lightly drag against her. She moaned as her nipple hardened under his touch.

He slipped her other breast loose and let his fingers play over that feminine instrument. Carla lay back and gave him better access to her body. Quinn's hand slipped down to between her legs and felt the dampness that was seeping through her swim suit. He rubbed his hand against the fabric of her suit, feeling the pressure when she thrust against him. His other hand began to pull her suit down.

Carla suddenly found herself in Harold's arms. She remembered giving in to him and hearing him later, telling his wife how much he loved her. An anguished cry escaped her lips and she rolled away from Quinn, clasping her suit to her chest. Quinn raised on one elbow and looked at her, confusion on his face, with just a little hurt.

"Carla. What's wrong?"

"I... I can't. I don't know. I can't. Not right now."

"What is it? What can I...?"

"No. It's not you. I just can't. It's too soon..."

Carla could not bring herself to admit that she had been seduced and betrayed by a married man. She could not admit the depth of the hurt. The desire and pain were both evident in her eyes.

"Please. Can you take me back to town? I can't tonight. Maybe..." She left the promise? unfinished. She found that she was at war with herself. She wanted him, she wanted to give in and let him totally seduce her. Her ability to allow herself to be seduced had been damaged. Harold raised up in her mind and she hated it. The bastard had stolen her capacity for romance, the ability to trust.

Quinn was hurting. He wanted her and knew that she wanted him. Yet he decided to not force her. His memory was stirred. Melanie. He had tried to force her and now she was gone. That pain had not surfaced for a long while. He had wanted Melanie as strongly as he wanted Carla. He knew that he could not bear to lose her again. For the first time in a decade, he had found someone who took away the pain of losing Melanie, instead of just covering it up. If Carla left him, the pain would be redoubled. He wondered how he could gain her trust and convince her to stay, if only for a little while.

Quinn now realized that Carla's pain, whatever had caused it, had happened on the cruise ship. Could she come to want to leave the ship? As they gathered their things and drove to the docks, Quinn was sure that he could win her forever if she did not return to the ship when it left. But how to accomplish that first step? It turns out, sometimes people just get lucky, or unlucky, depending on your point of view.

Carla let Quinn know that she would be back in town after the cave dive. She cried the whole trip back to the ship. Her body ached with need and her heart yearned to touch another's. She despaired that she could not even seek the balm of sex to hide the pain. The other passengers sat apart from her, not looking. That night, she cried herself to sleep.

In the morning that pain had receded. Carla was looking forward to the cave dive that afternoon. She took breakfast in her cabin, not wanting to risk seeing Harold again. She arrived on deck for the dive 15 minutes early. Several of the other women in the dive group seemed to make a point to not be near her. Jasmine, the senior she had dived with earlier was the exception.

The group was smaller this time. Only those who had their qualifications were allowed to cave dive. After last minute instructions on cave and dive safety, the dozen divers and their two guides boarded the launch and set out for the underwater cave site. The plan was to dive the cave and then return to the town for any last day shopping or sight seeing.

Carla found the cave dive to be unlike anything she had done before. The environment of the confining cave was so different, yet still beautiful. It was as if they had entered another world, a world where light was the intruder and the sightless were at home. The two hours of the dive were over too soon. Once everyone was aboard, the launch took them to the town.

When Carla came ashore, she saw her. The woman that she had seen with Harold was at one of the booths looking at native wood carvings. She felt a twinge of responsibility and walked over to the woman. She had just finished her purchase when Carla arrived.

"Excuse me."

The lady looked up at Carla with an unfriendly countenance. "What is it?" came the unpleasant voice.

"He's married."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Harold. He's actually married."

The lady's faced flushed red. Her voice was unrestrained and carried far. "You conniving, manipulating bitch!" Carla was dumfounded at the unexpected attack. "He warned me you might try some cheap stunt like this. You cheat on your husband with him and then try to smear his character after he finds out."

The lady's hand came out of nowhere and slapped Carla's face. Carla took two steps back, her hand over the red imprint of the hand on her cheek. Her mouth hung open in shock. Carla looked around and saw that everyone was looking at her. From their faces, they all believed that Carla was the cheating spouse and Harold was the innocent lover. Her eyes filled with tears and Carla ran blindly away from the town and the people's stares.

She seemed to run into a bQuinn wall that caught her before she fell. Looking up, she saw Quinn. Her tears became sobs as she clasped to him like a life ring on the ocean. Anger swelled in Quinn as Carla's pain rolled over him. He held her, letting her tears soak his shirt.

When her tears slowed, she tried to speak. "I can't go... They were all looking at me... I can't face..."

"Carla?" he asked, "would you like to come up to the plantation for the night?"

"Please, yes. I just can't go back to the ship, not tonight. Maybe never."

As he took her to his truck, he smiled a grim smile. She had come to him, though he did not want it to be this way. Never the less, he could try to win her now.

The drive to the plantation took half an hour. Her tears had stopped by then. The mansion looked just like the mansions that she had seen in pictures of the south in the days of slavery. Sprawling and white, it was surrounded by a stone fence on all sides. There were two entrances. One led to the fields themselves, currently full of tobacco plants at near full growth. The other was the one they were driving towards. There were several out building on the grounds themselves. The lawn was carefully manicured with decorative bushes forming natural walkways. She could see a couple of people about, doing things she did not immediately recognize.

He parked the truck in front of the main entrance and led her into the house. An elderly woman was standing in the entryway waiting for them.

"Master Quinn. You're back early," the woman noted.

"Good evening Bonita. This is Carla. She will be staying for dinner and the night. Would you make sure that Juan makes extra for dinner?"

"At once, Master Quinn." Bonita scurried off to pass the message.

"Welcome to my home, Carla."

"It's very beautiful, Quinn, and very large. How many people do you need to keep it up?"

"Not many, really. Much of the space isn't used these days. Bonita keeps the place in decent shape. Juan does all my cooking. Carlos is the grounds keeper. They are all that remains of the larger staff that was here when my father was alive. There are a dozen workers for the plantation, but they have their own house near the fields. Fifteen people plus the two of us."

"I was a little surprised that you're not a part of a larger conglomerate. I wouldn't think that an independent plantation could survive."

"If we tried to sell the tobacco to cigarette companies, I would never make it. We make gourmet cigars. With the ban on Cuban cigars in the states, we can offer faux Cubans and fill the hole in the market. I dread the day Castro dies. That will probably end the ban and undercut my ability to sell my product. I guess I'll have to sell the plantation once that happens, and become an employee instead of an owner."

"So this is a fairly small operation?"

"Yes. I think we make about a million cigars per year. With that low production, we can ask a high price and make enough to keep this place open."

"How do you get them to the states? You're not on the coast and the dock at the town is hardly suited to serving cargo ships. In fact, that small a production would not bring ships here."

"There's an airstrip on the far side of the fields. I have a small puddle jumper that can make St. Croix where I can sell them to a wholesaler. It's also how we get the supplies we need to keep the place running."

They had been walking the whole time they talked and had ended up in a library. The walls were covered with bookshelves. Books filled the room. Carla's eyes widened at the largest personal library she had ever seen. She momentarily forgot Quinn and wandered the room, taking in the titles. There were classics, pulps, new releases and every other type and style of book she could think of. There was even an entire shelf given over to romances.

Turning to her host, she whispered in awe, "Quinn. This is fantastic. Is this all yours?"

"It was my mother's, originally. I've added to it with things I like to read, but I'm not the reader she was. There's another room in the house with dozens of boxes with books in them. She would add books by removing some and storing them. She would also rotate the stored books back into the library. I remember seeing her in here with a box open, a book in her hand, the rotation temporarily forgotten as yet another book she loved once caught her attention again. I know you love to read, so I thought you'd appreciate my mother's passion."

"I do. I do appreciate it. I could spend an eternity here, enjoying each book, discovering the secrets locked inside each page of every volume." Turning to him again, "Quinn, you must have loved her very much to have kept her dream alive for so long."

Carla saw the first hint of the pain that Rhianna had mentioned move briefly across his face. She wondered what could have taken such love and linked it with such pain. She was almost sorry she was not going to get to know this man any better.

He showed her the rest of the house that was currently in use. The upper floors and the basement were not used by anyone. There were rooms for Bonita and Juan. Carlos had a small house on the grounds where he kept to himself. Carla got the impression that several of the main floor rooms were not really used either, but were maintained simply because there was no effective way to close them off. By the time his tour was over, dinner was ready.

They didn't eat in the main dining room. In fact, Carla wasn't sure it had been used in years. Apparently, Quinn did not have meals for a dozen or more people these days. Dinner was the last thing Carla expected to eat on a Caribbean island. The spaghetti and meatballs was scrumptious. The garlic bread had plenty of garlic to taste and the salad would have put an Olive Garden salad to shame. The conversation continued to flow easily between them over a wide variety of subjects. Even when they disagreed about something, the discussion never descended to the level of argument.

After dinner, Quinn asked, "Would you care to join me on the veranda?"

"I'd be delighted."

They sat on a suspended swing, looking at the stars in the sky. Carla, who had lived in a city for most of her life, was amazed at the sheer number of stars that were visible. When Quinn put his arm around her waist, she leaned into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. His hand lightly caressed the side of her breast. The fabric of her suit actually enhanced the sensations from his fingers. She let her hand rest on his leg, caressing lightly through his jeans.

Carla could feel her nipples swelling and moaned into his shoulder. Quinn pulled he closer, letting his fingers brush across the nipples hidden under two layers of fabric. Carla pushed gently against his hand to encourage him. Her hand moved closer to his crotch, enjoying the twitch in his leg as she did. Slowly, gently, they explored one another. Her other hand slipped under his shirt, running through the hair on his chest. His other hand caressed her arms, encouraging them to continue their own explorations.

"I can't Quinn. I'm sorry. Maybe..."

"Carla. Who hurt you so badly?"

"There was a man on the ship. I thought he was nice. We slept... He was married."

"Bastard!" Quinn's anger was somehow reassuring to Carla.

"It's worse. After I confronted him, he spread that I was the married one and that he was the injured lover. It's all over the ship now. I don't know how I can face being on the ship for another seven days."

"Don't. Stay with me. I can fly you to St. Thomas in a few days and you can catch a plane back to the states."

"I don't know. It's tempting."

"You don't have to do anything. Just relax here on the plantation. Visit the village if you like. Actually enjoy the rest of your vacation."

"Can I sleep on it? Let you know in the morning?"

"Sure. We will need enough time to get your bags off the ship."

"Thank you Quinn. This is a very nice offer, even if I decide not to."

"Let me show you to your bed."

Carla was able to sleep the night in relative peace. When she woke, she knew she could not go back to that ship for another six days. The humiliation and stares that would haunt her would be unbearable. She dressed and found Quinn.

"Quinn?"

"Yes, Carla?"

"I want to stay. How soon can we get to the ship to get my luggage?"

"We can leave now, if you wish."

"Good. The sooner this cruise is over, the better."

Quinn drove her to the town where she was able to catch the first launch back to the Mystic Queen. She first went to see the captain and let him know that she was debarking at the island permanently. He was disappointed, but not surprised.

"I'm sorry you feel the need to do so, Ms. Baxter. I understand why, but I wish you would stay. You do realize that there will be no other ships by here for at least a month?"

"I've made other arrangements to return to the states."

"For what it's worth, Ms. Baxter, the crew does not believe the rumors."

"I appreciate that Captain, I really do. It's not the crew that I want to avoid."

"I'll let the launch know to take you and your bags ashore."

"Thank you Captain."

Two hours later, Carla was back on the island, standing at Quinn's side as the last of the passengers boarded the boat to return to the Mystic Queen. The two returned to the mansion.

Over the next three days, Quinn showed Carla everything about the plantation. She met Juan and Carlos. He explained the history of the island and the plantation. She had to borrow a pair of shoes from Bonita. It seemed the vegetation near the plantation was hard on shoes. Barefoot would be impossible to do for anyone adverse to cutting the soles of their feet ragged.

They spent much time together. Just about everything was a subject of conversation at one point or another. Like she did with Harold, Carla found herself growing close to him. Months of dating were squeezed into just a few days. It didn't take long for the relaxed and carefree atmosphere of the island to dim the memories of the pain that the cruise had brought.

The third night found them on the veranda swing again. Carla was wearing a light pair of shorts and a tank top. Quinn was wearing his ubiquitous jeans and t-shirt. This time, when Quinn started his caresses, she was eager to return them. The bodily explorations of four nights ago were relearned. He leaned over and kissed her gently.

"Quinn, I want..."

"I know. Let me."

He leaned in and kissed her. She met his gentle kiss with a more passionate one. Their tongues probed and enjoyed what they found. Quinn's hands pulled her onto his lap, keeping their lips locked the whole time. One hand was now supporting her weight while the other explored the rest of her body. He roamed over her belly, her sides, her legs, brushing her mound briefly as he did.

Carla broke her kiss long enough to whisper, "Quinn. Don't stop. Take me and make me yours."

"I will. You already are, you just don't know it yet."

Her arms wrapped around his neck when they resumed their kiss. His hand found her pussy and rested there, rubbing slowly through her shorts. She gasped as the fabric of her suit caressed her folds and clit under his ministrations. She broke the kiss to pant and gasp in pleasure, only to have him pull her back into it. He locked her head to his while his hand increased its pressure on her pussy. Unbelievably, she was nearing her climax and he had yet to remove a single article of clothing.

"Oh God." Carla was beginning to wriggle on his lap but found that she was pinned in place by the relentless pressure on her cunt. "I'm going to... I'm so close... Oh God, don't stop!"

Quinn smiled at her pleasure, evidenced by not just her cries, but by the moisture that had soaked through the thin fabric of her pants, dampening his hand. A little more pressure and he sent her over the edge. As he felt her body stiffen, he kissed her again, locking his lips to hers and capturing her screams. Carla felt like she had exploded, leaving nothing behind except for her ecstasy. She humped his hand through her orgasm, trying desperately to extend the glorious feelings that were flowing through her.

As she came to her senses, Carla was aware that she was empty, not yet fulfilled. "Quinn, it's not enough. I need you. I need you inside me. Please, take me. I want you in my mouth and my pussy." Her dislike of cum in her mouth vanished as her lust overcame her. That rational part of her that knew depression would come after this one night stand, weighed the cost and found it a reasonable price this time.

Quinn picked her up. With seemingly no effort, he carried her to his bedroom. He placed her on the California king sized bed. She moaned as the silk sheets caressed her exposed skin. His hands reached for the bottom of her tank top and her hands went for the button of her shorts while he pulled her shirt off. She had not worn the unnecessary bra today. When he grabbed the legs of her shorts, Carla lifted her ass to ease its passage. Her hands pushed her panties off right behind her shorts.

Carla's aroma was released to act as the aphrodisiac it was. Quinn ran his hands up her legs and along her sides while she danced on the sheets, caressing herself on the silk beneath her. Quinn's hands continued their loving assault on her torso, teasing her with near misses of her breasts. Her hands went up and ran themselves against his chest, ending up at his cock, locked in his jeans. Her hunger for him peaked.

She slid herself down his body, landing on her ass with his enclosed cock up against her face. After she pulled his jeans down it disappeared quickly into the depths of her mouth which elicited a groan from him. Quinn began to thrust against her mouth and, with her head against the bed Carla could only accept the gentle brutality that his urgent need created. Her hands went around his waist, gripping his ass cheeks and pulling him in even tighter. As his cock thrust repeatedly against her, Carla let her tongue catch his foreskin and pull it back to expose his tip more completely. Her breaths were short and furtive, grabbed in those short intervals when her throat did not have a cock embedded in it. A small corner of her mind was surprised that she was not panicking at the near suffocation she was experiencing, but she had little awareness of it.