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Author's Chapter Notes:
Written for taboo_spuffy’s Fantasy Island Challenge: William and/or Elizabeth arrive on a private island to have their ultimate sexual fantasies fulfilled… but it comes with a price. The island rules state that anything goes… except falling in love with their assigned lover. Yet it does, occasionally, happen, they know. But emotional attachment is frowned upon, and can result in both parties being shipped off the island without explanation.



A/N: This is my first fanfic, and my muse is fueled by feedback, so please feed the feedback monkey!
A/N2: This chapter went over in word count, and I had to split it into two parts.
A/N3: Thanks to tjbw for my banner! I have a banner! I'm all official and stuff!




Beta: dusty273
Part 4a: The Waiting Game

The next time Elizabeth awoke, it was to the sound of a shower running full-blast. She sat up in bed, still groggy, looking for a clock, but to no avail. There appeared to be no timepieces of any kind anywhere in the room, an indication that time was supposed to stand still while on The Island.

The door to the bathroom swung open, and steam billowed out in great clouds as William strode out, still fully nude, toweling his wet hair vigorously. He stood stark naked in the middle of the suite for a full minute, working the fluffy crimson towel over his head intently, before he noticed Elizabeth sitting up in bed, wide awake and staring at him with saucer eyes.

He grinned cheekily at her. “Mornin,’ luv.” He made no effort to hide his nakedness, standing there dripping water on the undoubtedly very expensive carpet as Elizabeth gaped at him. “If you’re up for mornin’ ablutions, the shower’s all yours.”

For some reason, the morning light seemed to have clicked on some odd sense of modesty in Elizabeth, and she clutched the sheet to her bare breasts, eyes scanning the area surrounding the bed desperately for something she could use to cover herself for her Walk of Shame to the bathroom.

William found her discomfort charming, and more than just a little amusing, as he watched her eyes dart over the nightstand and floor, realizing her suitcase and all her clothes were on the same side of the room as the bathroom.

She looked at him with pleading eyes, and he relented with a grin, tossing her the towel he had been using to dry his hair, and watching cheerily as she wrapped it gratefully around herself, hustling herself out of bed and across the room towards her suitcase with what she liked to think of as a dignified grace. It was just too fucking cute for words in William’s opinion.

Made cuter by the fact that she apparently couldn’t find what she was looking for in her luggage, until with a growl she dumped the whole suitcase onto the floor, and stood, pawing through it, until she triumphantly laid hands on what she had been looking for, and flounced past William with her prize to the bathroom.

As she paraded her barely-covered body by him on the way to the shower, he noticed a little tattoo of twin dragonflies at the small of her back, and he smiled to himself. There were definitely things about this woman he was going to find out for sure before this weekend was through.

As Elizabeth hustled past William and slid into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind her, she noticed that his freshly dried hair was extremely curly in its natural state, flopping loosely around his forehead and temples and giving his face a far softer look, belying the natural confidence and expertise he had exhibited during last night’s escapades. There were definitely things she was curious to find out about this man before the weekend was through.

* * *

The door to the bathroom was been shut tight, sealing Elizabeth inside its steamy confines, and William was trying to remember where he had left his Blackberry, taking several steps towards his discarded pants before he remembered that he had surrendered it on the plane ride in. He felt more naked now than ever, being without his ‘Wee Electronic Leash,’ as a Scottish colleague had once referred to it, and he felt slight anxiety about not knowing what was going on in his office while he was—Hello, what’s this?

His bare foot nudged something that crackled, and he looked down. When Elizabeth had dumped the contents of her suitcase out on the floor several items had tumbled free of the initial pile, and one of those items, a small pale pink bag, was currently resting against William’s left foot. Curiosity got the better of him, and he reached down and snagged the bag with a fingertip, taking a peek inside.

Well, hello… why yes, if you insist…

* * *

Elizabeth emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, looking refreshed and reinvigorated by her shower, and feeling much calmer after reciting William’s words from last night to herself repeatedly. No recriminations, no guilt.

She was feeling downright confident, in fact, until she looked to see William sitting on the edge of the neatly made bed, wearing a crisp white v-neck t-shirt, khakis, and what could only be described as a shit-eating grin. Trepidation and excitement start to swell deep inside her. Feelings that were magnified tenfold when she saw what dangled from his fingertips.

Oh shit.

* * *

Elizabeth had been saving her little purchase for her last night on The Island, if she felt up to it, but here it was, draped over William’s fingers as he looked at her with a hungry grin.

“Decided what’s on the roster for today, luv!” he announced cheerily.

She winced.

“Well, don’t make that face. Why did you bring it if you didn’t intend to wear it?”

Elizabeth glared at him for a moment and then softened when she saw the gentle humor in his eyes. There was something else there, too. A challenge. And Elizabeth never backed away from a challenge.

She strode across the room, dropping the towel in a heap as she furiously seized the lacy confection of ribbons and garters from his hand, plopping herself down on the bed next to him. She defiantly rolled one flesh-colored stocking up her leg, making sure the lacy tops were perfectly centered at mid-thigh.

As she leaned over to ease the remaining stocking on, William stopped her with one large hand over her two smaller ones, sliding off of the bed and onto the floor in front of her. Elizabeth felt a rush of heat and warmth as she remembered this position from last night, but he did not move to touch her in the same way, merely carefully rolling the other stocking up her thigh. Gentle fingertips only increased the returning heat as he carefully slid the pale pink bra up her arms, drawing her down towards him as he clasped the back before allowing her to fix herself in the lacy cups. He motioned for her to stand, and she did so wordlessly, enthralled by the sight of him carefully dressing her.

He hooked the matching garter belt around her waist before slowly pivoting her in front of her as he slowly hooked the garters to the stockings, his touch never lasting long enough to truly please. One, two, three, and four, and he turned her back so she was facing him again.

She bent over to snatch the lacy pink thong from the floor, but he batted her hand away gently.

“No such luck, sweetness.” He moved to a seated position on the bed, admiring her in pink bra with matching garter belt and thigh-highs. “I like you better like this.” He trailed his hand up one garter, following the lace around her waist, and then down the other thigh, briefly stopping to cup her sex before looking back up at her, “It frames you. ‘Like seeing you all open and wanting,” his hand traveled the same route again, “all perfect and waiting for my touch.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she realized where this was heading, and she again damned her honesty on that cursed questionnaire.

William saw awareness settle over her quizzical features and smiled, helping her into the button-up sundress she had walked out of the bathroom carrying. His nimble fingertips started at the hem, quickly fastening the dress until only the barest hint of cleavage was visible between the top three buttons. He smiled and stood, drawing her close to him with hands tight on her hips.

“Control is always the name of the game, luv, but today it has nothing to do with me. Today’s all about you controlling yourself.”

A heated flush pounded though Elizabeth’s ears and slowly washed through her whole body, causing her to clutch his hips just as her held hers.

He grinned with delight, amazed at how quickly her body responded to him after such a short time. “No matter what I say, what I do, you cannot come. No matter how much I tease you, taunt you, and torment you, you have to remain in full control of your reactions.” A shiver passed through Elizabeth. “I intend on touching you, licking you, tasting you, fucking you, and just generally working your body until you bloody cry, but you… cannot… come.”

He lifted her chin up with one fingertip, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Understood?”

She gulped what she hoped was quietly. “Yes.”

He smiled, dropping a soft kiss on her lips. “One other thing just for today, Elizabeth.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him, enjoying the faint taste of him on her lips.

“You will call me ‘sir’ until I tell you otherwise.”

* * *

Elizabeth thought she did remarkably well throughout lunch.

They appeared to have missed breakfast entirely, but the small restaurant off the lobby served all day—and in generous portions--so they were soon sitting side-by-side in a discreet little booth while a waiter brought out tray after tray of food.

They were alone save for one other couple in the restaurant, a slim brunette woman dressed in an odd old-fashioned dress and a middle aged man kneeling besides the woman’s seat, dog collar fastened around his neck, waiting for the occasional scrap she fed him off her fork and the careless pats she gave to the top of his head. It would have been outright funny if not for the affectionate glances the brunette gave her pet as she fed him, and both William and Elizabeth were careful not to stare, giving the other couple the same anonymity they were being given.

More trays arrived. The game temporarily forgotten, William watched, fascinated, as Elizabeth shoveled an unbelievable amount of food into her dainty little mouth. A large salad had already disappeared, virtually inhaled, and half of a plate of cheeseburger and an order of onion rings were gone before she even noticed William was staring openly at her.

She swallowed the bite she was chewing, taking a large mouthful of Diet Pepsi to wash it down, and answered the question he had not asked while shaking liberal amounts of salt and pepper onto a waiting side dish of fries.

“I do martial arts, some yoga, a little kickboxing in my spare time. A little pilates too. Builds up one hell of an appetite.” She continued unabashedly, dumping ketchup onto her bread plate and starting to dip fries into it. “Always eat like this, even when I’m not in training for anything.” She paused to pop a fry into her mouth and gave a blissful and candid smile. “Plus, I just fucking love food.”

William found himself engaged, and just a bit turned on by this side of Elizabeth. He had dated enough women to have suffered through more than one dinner in which his date would eat three leaves of a spinach salad, declare herself full and push away the plate, only to ravenously eye his rare-to-mooing steak for the rest of an inevitably uncomfortable meal. The comfort and obvious lack of self-consciousness with which Elizabeth ate were appealing to him in a way he couldn’t put his finger on, but he knew she understood as she smiled at him.

Yes, Elizabeth thought she did remarkably well at lunch, until the hand that had been resting casually on her knee started sliding up her thigh just as the waiter came over to see if they’d like any dessert.

She didn’t choke as the wandering hand slid over the top of her stocking to stroke warm, soft flesh as the waiter was reciting the dessert specials. She didn’t cough as his hand journeyed further, tracing the contours of her moist and rapidly overheating sex as she pretended to be interested in how Baked Alaska was made. And she was especially proud of herself for not swallowing her tongue when William slid one long finger easily inside her.

She did however start, and her eyes flew to William who was watching her with some amusement, eyes daring her to react. She narrowed her gaze at him just as the waiter reached the end of a seemingly interminable list of cakes, and he rewarded her with one light tap to her clit with his index finger.

Her eyes flew open and she couldn’t stop the startled “Oh!” that escaped her lips.

William grinned evilly at her, and she forced down the rising wave of warmth while she dropped her eyes, knowing that the price for her noise was going to be both wonderful and awful.

The waiter cleared his throat, awaiting their orders, and both William and Buffy were startled to remember they were not alone, locked into their mental battle as they had been.

The waiter, who had clearly been trained in the fine art of discretion, seemed not to notice or care that several hands were busy under the table. After receiving their assurances that no, they absolutely did not want cake no matter what the preparation, delicacy, or nationality, he gave them a slip of paper to initial and disappeared faster than a figment of their imaginations.

“Now you’ve done it, luv,” William grabbed Elizabeth by her hand and practically hauled her out of the booth and out of the restaurant after him.

Elizabeth blinked as the bright sun hit her eyes full on, and she threw up her hand to shield her eyes while William scanned the horizon for something. Lush tropical foliage seemed to surround all the buildings, and wild flowers in various shades of pink, orange, and purple were sprinkled here and there. They could see an aquamarine ocean glittering brightly in the sun about 200 yards away, framed by a bright white beach. It had been twilight when Elizabeth arrived the previous day, and she had been so overcome with nerves that she hadn’t had the time or presence of mind to appreciate their utopian surroundings.

“There it is,” he announced triumphantly, spotting a long winding path strewn with crushed clamshells that seemed to lead down to a main road. With childish enthusiasm, he dragged Elizabeth down the road after him.

“Wait! Where are we going?” She yelped, trying to fish sunglasses out of her bag while keeping up with him.

He stopped so suddenly she almost trampled him, and turned to grin impishly at her. “Sightseeing!”

* * *

She had thought he was kidding. She had hoped he was kidding. She had even prayed that he was kidding, but apparently God—and William—had really odd senses of humor.

So here they were, along with two other couples, being led around their tropical paradise by an oddly cheerful tour guide who had only introduced himself as “Lorne” before leading them on foot down the clamshell road that seemed to traverse the island.

To his credit, he seemed to know every bird of paradise, every flower, and every tide that lapped at the island. Elizabeth started to relax and enjoy the tour, lulled by the beautiful surroundings and Lorne’s even patter. William placed a hand at the small of her back, helping to steady her as the path got more uneven, and she relaxed into it as the small group stopped on a bluff overlooking the perfect white beach.

It was warm, but not stifling hot, and the sun felt wonderful on her bare shoulders. There were only two other couples on the walk with them, the brunette and her ‘pet’ from the restaurant, and a couple of ridiculously handsome gay men that had no apparent kink currently going on.

Then again, Elizabeth reasoned, we have no ‘apparent’ kink, either.

As if prompted by the word ‘kink,’ William’s hand dropped from her waist to tug the hem of her dress up, sliding between her legs, encouraging her to widen her stance slightly. She resisted for a second, and William gave a gentle warning pinch to the inside of one thigh, not missing her startled exhalation.

She snuck a quick glimpse of the rest of the group, and sure enough, not a single person was paying even the slightest bit of attention to them. Everyone was wrapped up in their respective partner, and their exuberant guide was explaining currents with demonstrative hand gestures. Emboldened, she adjusted her stance, and William’s hand slid home.

“Very nice, luv,” he purred in her ear, “but in the future I expect you to respond immediately when I give you an order.” His index finger slid teasingly up and down her slit, never entering her, and he was pleased to feel her moisture already starting to leak into his hand. “Very nice, already nice and wet for me… bet you’d like it if I dropped to my knees right now and buried my tongue in that lovely quim.” He felt her tense against him and chuckled. “Don’t worry, pet, not gonna go for my prize right now.” She relaxed a little, and then tensed as his hand gave her clit a quick caress, and then dropped away entirely.

Elizabeth bit her lip; the internal heat she was starting to feel was rising to a simmer, and she didn’t know how she was possibly going to hold herself together. She had no idea how long William intended on continuing this game, and already she was aching to be filled by his fingers, tongue, or cock.

William seemed to know where her thoughts had wandered, and gave her garter a quick snap before removing his hand from under her dress. She threw him a glare over her shoulder, and he responded with that infuriatingly sexy tongue-curly-thing, which only served to make her both madder and moister. And then lifted his hand to his mouth and, inhaling the scent of her from it, lovingly and languidly slid the finger into his own mouth, savoring her taste while never breaking her gaze. She sagged against him, her head dropping forward, and he grinned in victory.

* * *

William was fine, really; he was totally in control of this game. He absolutely did not almost lose control when Elizabeth’s juices exploded on his taste buds, and he did for one second let his eyes close shut as he savored her taste. He in no way thought about saying fuck this game and dragging her into the nearest crop of trees for a hard shagging. And he would never have had to hang back as the group started to move again to readjust the hard-on that was threatening to bust through his zipper with eagerness. Going commando was all well and good in theory, but underwear would have afforded him an extra layer of fabric restraint. What I wouldn’t give for a bloody pair of boxer briefs rights about now.

And then Elizabeth stopped to see why he was lagging behind, flashing him a golden minxy smile, and he almost choked from the fresh lust that welled up in him. Or Speedos. Really, really tight Speedos…


TBC









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