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cock into her mouth or
cunt. But Dolly tried and it slipped in another inch. 'Give her
your spunk, Devlin. I want to see it.' Stephanie barked out the
command. 'Do it, Devlin.'
    Stephanie was
standing in her high heels, suspender belt and stockings and bra,
her legs apart. Devlin feasted his eyes on her. He watched as
Stephanie took Dolly's head in her hands to control her rhythm as
she plunged down on Devlin's cock. He looked her straight in the
eyes, their faces only inches apart, and saw a determination there,
a determination to make him come. He felt his balls tense. He felt
the silky wet mouth sucking on his cock and Stephanie's eyes boring
into him, commanding him, and then he came, shooting spunk into
Dolly's mouth and watching as a smile of satisfaction and triumph
spread over Stephanie's face. She saw what he had done, what she
had made him do.
    Stephanie had
the impulse to lean forward and kiss Devlin on the mouth but she
resisted it.
    She realised
that Bruno was still standing by the cell door, impassively
watching all that had happened. With a gesture from Devlin he
unlocked Dolly's ankle chain and led her away, no doubt to be
showered. Devlin sat on the wooden bed.
    'Only you
could have done that to me,' he said quietly.
    'I know,' she
replied with absolute confidence.
     
     

Chapter
Five
     
    Upstairs it
felt hot. Devlin had gone off to take a telephone call somewhere in
the depths of the castle, leaving Stephanie on the terrace where
they had breakfasted. She sat on one of the loungers sipping what
had become the accustomed champagne, and debated whether to go and
change into her bikini to take advantage of the sun. The Italian
sun had almost reached its zenith but a cooling breeze from the
lake made the temperature tolerable. For the time being Stephanie
was content to relax, enjoy the magnificent panorama laid out in
front of her and wait for Devlin to return.
    The Devlin who
finally came back on to the terrace was a very different man from
the one who, happy, buoyant and relaxed, had left Stephanie some
half an hour before. This Devlin suddenly looked old and tired, the
worries of the world settled on to his shoulders. He tramped across
the terrace, his whole demeanour suggesting his anxiety.
    'What on
earth's the matter?' Stephanie asked, genuinely concerned.
    'I'm afraid
something has come up. Business. I've got to go to the mainland
right away. I'm sorry...'
    'Anything I
can do?'
    'No, no...'
Though his eyes were looking at her she could see his mind was
somewhere else entirely. 'When will you be back?'
    'Probably
after lunch. I'm sorry. It's unavoidable.'
    'Don't worry
about me. I'll sunbathe. It's so hot.'
    'If you want
lunch, they'll bring you anything you want.'
    'Thank
you.'
    'And make
yourself at home. There are no locked doors for you.' He looked
reluctant to leave her.
    'Devlin, go.
I'll be fine. There are no more secrets, are there?'
    'No. You've
seen it all.' Devlin smiled weakly but the worried frown soon
returned. 'If you want Bruno, dial 5 on the phone.'
    'And I don't
expect him to say hello, right?'
    This time he
did not manage a smile. She saw one of the servants waiting with a
large briefcase as Devlin shuffled off, clearly totally absorbed in
whatever problem had suddenly cast a shadow across his world.
Surely, Stephanie thought, with such obvious wealth, it could be
nothing too disastrous.
    She watched
from the terrace as Devlin climbed aboard the motorboat and turned
round to see if she was still on the terrace. He waved distractedly
when he saw her and she waved back as the boat pulled away from the
jetty, then sped over the almost still waters of the lake, leaving
a foaming white wake.
    One of the
servants poured her a glass of champagne. She had never drunk so
much champagne in her life and it felt good. It was, she decided,
her favourite drink. The maximum of intoxication with the minimum
of alcohol, though she would have been intoxicated enough without
any. The secrets of the