‘Depends on the carat,’ he heard himself reply, trying to be nonchalant and failing.
‘You want to try the goods?’ She smiled, showing her small, white, even teeth. Then she yawned, stretched her arms above her head, and was gone.
William wasn’t clear about what went on around him after that. At some stage Marta brought him some coffee and a cigar. Justin had disappeared. After a while he decided to go to bed. He showered and lay down, but he was not ready to sleep. He considered reading, but in the end he turned out the lights and remained wide awake, staring at the ceiling. The Egyptian cotton sheets felt good against his skin — he had only taken to sleeping naked since meeting Justin. He did not hear her enter, but knew she was in the room by the strong smell of lilies. He also knew she was moving slowly round the bed, but he was too afraid to move. Then he felt the mattress dip to his right.
‘Give me your arm,’ she whispered, and he lifted it a fraction. She bound his wrist with a silk band, then fastened it to the bedpost. ‘Now the other.’ Her voice was barely audible. Next she drew the sheet away from him, tossed it aside, and forced his legs apart, tying his ankles to the foot of the bed. William lay spreadeagled, unable to move. He kept his eyes tightly shut, afraid to open them. She sat astride his chest and he winced at his impotency. His mind was aroused but his body was not answering.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t do this with you. Please,’ he mumbled.
First she licked each nipple till he felt goose pimples break out across his body, then his neck and ears. He wanted to feel her mouth on his, but she suddenly bit into his ear-lobe, which hurt. He nearly cried out, but she covered his mouth first with her hand, then she stuffed something into it. It felt hard, a roll of leather or plastic. He bit into it, as she drew blood from his ear and began to bite down on the vein in his neck. He felt as if he was being suffocated. Her hands felt strong, masculine, and they massaged and rubbed, twisted and pinched until he was on fire, heaving for breath. Then she inched down towards his now swollen cock. Easing him into her, she leaned forward across his chest, pressing her hands against his throat, so that what little breath he had was cut short. His gasps were painful, his head thundering as she rode him, strangling him, slapping and kicking at him, until he exploded with such intensity, such agonizing pleasure that he blacked out.
Later that night, William woke with a start and looked at the clock; it was three a.m. He thought he must have dreamed the sex, and Laura, but the bands still hung loosely around his wrists and ankles, although Laura had cut him free. He dragged himself from the bed and stumbled into the shower, rubbing his body hard, to bring the blood to the surface of his skin to stop bruises forming. He returned to bed, so tired he could hardly be bothered to wrap the sheet around himself.
Just as he felt sleep descending, she slipped into bed beside him. She snuggled up to him like a child and her kisses were soft and sweet. She whispered to him that he was special, that he was a king, a prince. He was the love she had dreamed of finding, he made her happy. He had never felt such a powerful emotion: a consuming need to protect and provide for the child-woman he held in his arms.
‘That must never happen again, Laura.’
‘What mustn’t?’
‘What we did earlier. I don’t ever want that to happen again.’
‘Why not? Don’t you like me?’
‘It’s because I like you too much, I respect you too much. I’m not a stupid man, I know it was to prove something to me and you succeeded. But I can’t use you, even if I desire you. It’s wrong.’
He was holding Laura in the crook of his arm when the naked Justin slipped in beside him and hooked his arm around them both.
‘She’s good, isn’t she?’ Justin said into the darkness.
Laura reached across William to kiss Justin. Then she flopped back. ‘That was just a free sample,’ she said to William. ‘What carat would you rate me?’ Her voice was singsong, a little girlish. ‘I want a big whopper each time. You promised me, William, that’s right, isn’t it?’
‘Yep,’ said William, out of his depth.
He was unable to think straight, aghast at the proximity of Justin’s nakedness.
Justin, who had hooked a long leg over William’s, said, ‘Listen, old boy, tomorrow we’re waterskiing again, so I suggest you get some kip.’ He brushed William’s face with his hand then kissed him sweetly on the cheek like a young boy. ‘Come on, Diamond Lil, bedtime. Get your beauty sleep.’
She jumped up and Justin, with his sister’s ease and grace, got up too. Naked, they walked out, arms around each other, leaving William alone.
William patted his pillow, afraid of all the demons inside him. He needed to step aside and look from a distance at what had taken place. He found he couldn’t do it. What was he thinking of? It had got out of hand, this talk of Matlock and vendettas, and his ex-girlfriend Angela. He would put a stop to it first thing in the morning because he was afraid. Suddenly he thought that the paradise trap might be intended for him.
As sleep enveloped him, his fears turned into nightmares. When he’d read Andrew Maynard’s secret diaries, he had envied his exploration of his sexuality. He remembered the blanked-out sections. Had Justin taken Maynard that step further, the step that William had half contemplated?
He knew without doubt that Justin had drawn the naïve Andrew Maynard into an erotic world that had eventually obsessed him, ultimately killed him. Yet that night he had experienced such powerful emotion, not just for Laura but for Justin as well and, no matter how he had protested, she had made love to him and it was as if she had opened a closed door in his mind or in his soul. Whatever had happened had not been merely an erotic excursion but some kind of baptism.
William forced himself to remember the night, on the island, with Dahlia and Ruby. He could see Justin laughing as he watched the video. He sat up quickly, his breath caught in his chest. Had they filmed him this evening? The aim of the game was to capture his guests in pornographic situations, but what if the intention all along had been to entrap William himself? Might this be an elaborate blackmail scam, into which he had unwittingly played? Fear consumed him, and then it subsided. He realized he was the one controlling the game; he had instigated it. From now on he would take control, not just of Laura and Justin but of his life. He knew he was the stronger; he knew he had become stronger. And he also knew that he had been taken on a journey. Far from destroying him, it had made him become a man. Tomorrow he would make it clear there was to be no further sexual intercourse between himself and Laura. That was the only way of knowing he was in control. He felt easier, and his eyes were heavy. He slept with the perfume of lilies, unable not to recall what it had felt like to have both their bodies entwined with his own.
Chapter twelve
At nine William was served breakfast by Marta. He felt refreshed and alert, and ready to take control. He asked if Justin and Laura were still sleeping.
Marta looked surprised. ‘Goodness, no, they were up and out to the market at seven,’ she said. ‘They always like to buy their vegetables fresh from the vendors rather than the big supermarkets. They’ll have gone down to St Tropez to the fishmonger first.’
‘How long will they be?’
‘Maybe a couple more hours.’ She walked out, then paused in the doorway. ‘She is a child you know, sir. I blame Justin. He’s been so domineering all her life, she looks to him for everything.’
‘What about their parents?’ William asked.
‘They died when the children were small.’
‘Marta,’ he said sharply, ‘tell me more. I need to know.’