When Pine woke, he knew it was mid-morning, even though the curtains were drawn. He looked around, smiling gently at Sable next to him, who was sprawled on her stomach and dead to the world before taking a look at the dim bedroom.

He liked the cool blues of the walls, and the little touches of color everywhere—a wreath of sea-grass framing a mirror; a glass and brick bookcase against one wall; a collection of tiny shadowboxes holding postage stamps in them. With care, Pine managed to slide to the edge of the bed and sit up, hoping he could find the bathroom without having to wake Simone.

It was done in sea greens, and after using the facilities and rinsing his mouth, Pine looked at himself in the mirror. A little scruffy, and his hair would need a comb, but he was pleased to note he looked . . . better. Certainly felt better. After making a face at himself and chuckling, Pine headed back, stopping to look at the bed and the woman on it.

Her ass was showing. Pine bit his lips, suddenly aroused at the peachy delight now exposed, and shook his head, feeling devious. That would be his target, he decided. Much as he looked forward to exploring all of her body, the flagrant view of such delectable mounds beckoned him.

"It is the very error of the moon; She comes more nearer to the earth than she was wont and it makes men mad," he quoted to himself under his breath, snickering at his own audacity. Pine couldn't be sure Shakespeare would appreciate his quote in this context, but it amused him and he slowly moved to the bed, sliding over her prone form until he rested his chin on her left cheek.

Sable started and mumbled, "Mmmmgood morning," before attempting to roll over, but Pine didn't let her. Instead he pressed a kiss to her ass, which immediately made her giggle. She looked over her shoulder at him. "Wrong cheek."

"Left cheek," Pine murmured, and nibbled it before adding, "Delectable."

"You're silly," she giggled, but he trailed kisses from one cheek to the other, aware that her hips were wriggling a bit, and not just from a desire to escape the affection.

"You have a remarkable rump," Pine announced. "Round yet firm, smooth yet supple. You'd be pinched within an inch of your life in Italy."

"Really?"

"Oh yes," Pine assured her, pressing kisses now along the sensitive little crease between one cheek and the back of one of her thighs, making her squirm. "So I intend to be first."

"Jonathan!" came her exasperated call. "That tickles!"

"Oh, I had no idea," he rumbled back, working a hand between her thighs, letting his palm cup against the curly pelt of her vulva. "Does this tickle too?" Pine nipped harder while rubbing his palm against her, gratified by how damp her curls were.

"Someone's being a huge . . ."

"-Pain in the arse?" he finished, grinning. "Well if you don't want me focused on this intensely spankable part of you, you'll just have to tempt me with something else, Simone."

She muttered something into a pillow that he couldn't quite catch, but wriggled against his hand again at the same time, making it clear she was enjoying herself. Pine then decided that it was time to make a point about his intentions and began to lavish a good deal more attention to a part of her that he was sure hadn't received much before.

Sable's gasps and half-hearted protests shifted to pleasured groans, particularly when Pine's fingers began to circle her engorged clitoris at the same time he lapped at the tender pink pucker of her ass. She wriggled, rising to her knees to give him better access, and he kept at a deliberate pace, gradually feeling her tense against his fingertips, her groan rising into a fluttery cry of delight.

Slowly he licked his way up the cleft of her ass, pausing to suck at the dimples there before running his tongue along the trough of her spine and stretching out on top of her very boneless form.

She turned her head, her eyes half-lidded. "I . . . I had no idea that would feel SO . . . ."

He laughed. "Unexpectedly erotic? Yes, well the world is full of surprises for the bold."

She dropped her gaze, shy as a schoolgirl and he kissed behind her ear before whispering, "There isn't an inch of you I don't want to kiss or play with or touch, Simone. For all our vaunted intelligence, we're animals too, and you make me damned glad of that."

"Me too," she told him, shifting her thighs and nestling back against his prick. "Er, but we're not going to . . ."

"Oh no," Pine assured her. "Anything further in that direction would take the better part of the night, and require a bit of alcohol as well as a lot of lube for both of us."

She giggled, and he felt her relax under him. "Fair enough, although I hate to leave things . . . undone."

"I'm utterly open to suggestion . . . as I think you know by now," Pine replied.

"Oh good. Well I think I'll get up on my hands and knees . . ." Sable told him, wiggling a little. Pine kissed the side of her neck, rising up himself over her, rubbing against her spine playfully.

"Jonathan," Sable murmured, reaching down under herself to catch his engorged shaft in her fingers. "Slow?"

"Slow," he agreed, and was.

He let his big hands slide down her back, cupping them around her hips and rocking into her in deliberate strokes, setting a steady pace. Pine savored the pleasure of plunging into her heat, of looking at her bare spine under him as he did so. It aroused him further, and although he held out as long as he could, Pine gave into his orgasm a while later, growling in pleasure.

-oo00oo-

"So tell me about the Garden of Paradise," Pine asked her later, as they were strolling along the beach. Sunset wasn't too far off, and they were planning on dinner in town.

"The Garden of Eden," Sable sighed, looking pensive. "It's a rather exclusive club for people who want to showcase their games and pets. My mentor took me there three times to help me push my boundaries a bit. Keep in mind I was younger and a little bit at loose ends at the time, so I went."

Pine said nothing, but squeezed her hand in support. In the distance three fishing boats glided on the horizon. After a while Sable spoke again.

"It was . . . freeing, I suppose, but it was also a bit of a turning point for me. I knew I trusted my mentor but having an audience took something away from the game for me. I went once as an observer, once as a sub and once as a Domme, and each time I realized thesame thing."

"You're a private player," Pine nodded.

"Yes," she turned to look at him. "I'm not in it for show; I'm in it for the intimacy."

"That sounds . . . perfect," he replied.

"Maybe," Sable shrugged. "It's just . . . I'm also pretty exclusive in everything else, Jonathan. I don't share anything very well, so if that's going to be trouble for us, I need to know."

Pine pulled her into his arms and bent forward, whispering into her ear. "What you and I have is extremely exclusive, Simone my darling. Our folie au deux is a sweet madness I'm not willing to jeopardize or expand beyond the two of us."

She looked up at him, brushing her fingers over his flyaway curls, smiling. "You mean that?"

"Yes."

"So even if some nubile blonde beauty saunters into the hotel and offers to let you drink a martini out of her navel you'd turn her down?"

Pine gave a dramatic sigh. "Martinis are almost as overrated as blondes, frankly. Now if the scenario involved a certain raven-haired doctor and a few ounces of Anisette, I might be sorely tempted. Sorely."

A wave washed over their bare feet and Sable grinned at him. "Perhaps we should pick up a bottle as a nightcap?"

He hugged her and they stood there as more waves splashed their toes.

Paul gave them the best seat in the restaurant; the one that overlooked the beach, and kept circling back to check on them, clearly delighted. Pine introduced him to Sable. "Simone Sable, this is Paul Gisbourne, owner of this place and decent friend most of the time."

"The rest of the time I'm just his forwarding address," Paul responded. "Order what you want, on the house—ah!" he pointed at Pine. "Shut up, no. I get to do this because I can. Protest and I'll just pile on the credit."

"Paul . . . all right. Thank you," Pine told him with a slightly embarrassed smile.

"Better," Paul told them. "All right, I'll have Rafe take care of you two. Simone, a pleasure to meet you." With a clap to Pine's shoulder he moved off, and Sable gave Pine an amused look.

"We go back years. He ran the restaurant in the hotel in Sweden where I was working. One night the place was robbed and Paul was shot; I got him to the hospital."

Sable nodded. "Where was he hit?"

"Elbow; he'd tried to wrestle the gunman," Pine sighed. "Anyway, we've stayed in touch, and when he settled here, he kept urging me to come to Lisbon, so I finally did. It's been good to see him."

"I bet," she agreed. "He looks pretty pleased."

"That's because of you," Pine admitted slowly. "I'm not exactly known for . . . dating."

"That makes two of us," Sable snickered. "Are we pathetic, Jonathan?"

"No. I think we're simply . . . particular," he replied with a smile as the waiter glided up and began reciting specials.

They lingered over the meal, watching the sun set, spilling orange over the waves, and by the time the first stars were out and the dinner finished, Pine leaned forward to catch Sable's hand. "I believe you said something about a nightcap?"

She blushed, dark eyes bright with humor and delight, biting her lower lip. "You won't get much to drink out of my navel I'm afraid."

"That depends on how many times I fill it up," Pine pointed out playfully.

"Tit for tat," Sable spluttered. "I'm willing to bet I'll get more out of yours, which is quite the innie by the way."

"Well, there's nothing for it but to try then, isn't there?" he told her. "I do love a challenge."

She lifted her chin. "As do I, Mr. Pine, as do I. Which sheets shall we ruin in the name of this soon-to-be-regretted exercise in bluff and alcohol?"

"Mine," Pine told her as they rose from the table and linked arms. "I think my overly-Nordic ones deserve a good marinating in all sorts of fluids."