St Barths - A Superyacht Forbidden Affair

The hum of yacht tenders buzzed in the distance, ferrying most glittering guests ashore to Bagatelle for the evening’s VIP event. The harbor lights of St. Barths shimmered against the inky water, and the scent of salt and hibiscus carried faintly on the warm Caribbean breeze. But moments earlier, the serene exterior of the yacht had been anything but calm.

“You’re a fucking liar, Alexander!” Melanie’s shrill voice echoed across the aft deck, cutting through the tranquil evening. The crash of a champagne glass followed, shards scattering across the teak as the contents soaked onto the deck.

Alexander stood with his arms crossed, the epitome of control, though his glacier-blue eyes burned with fury. “You’re making a scene, Melanie,” he said, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through her hysteria. “Everyone in St Barths can probably hear you by now.”

“Let them!” she spat, her golden hair wild around her face, makeup smudged from tears, anger, or both. “Do you think I care? Do you think I give a damn what anyone thinks?”

“That much is clear,” he replied, his tone dripping with disdain. “You’ve had enough to drink. Go ashore with the others. Enjoy the party.”

“Oh, so you can stay here and sulk?” she sneered, stepping closer, her stilettos clacking on the deck. The sound made me wince. Shoes on deck were my pet hate. It’s a given that superyachts are shoeless—a rule that’s not just about keeping the pristine decks intact but also about respect for the space and those working tirelessly to maintain it. But Melanie, in her predictable disdain for anyone she deemed beneath her, stomped around in her heels as if rules didn’t apply to her. She’d ignored every polite request, every reminder, treating them like background noise.

Rude bitch. She never liked me from the start, always glaring and making my work on board that much more difficult. The guest from hell is being too kind a term for someone like her. Melanie didn’t just flout the rules—she went out of her way to make sure everyone knew she thought she was above them. How she’d thrown her shoes at me during her first night onboard, muttering about how ridiculous “little rules” were, had set the tone for the rest of the trip.

Alexander’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. Melanie’s laugh was bitter, echoing through the night as she flung another champagne flute off the side of the yacht. “You’re pathetic,” she hissed. “Enjoy your little kingdom. I’m done for the night.”

With that, she stormed toward the tender, waiting to take her ashore. The crew avoided her gaze as she passed a trail of broken glass and spilled champagne in her wake. 

I lingered in the shadows near the pantry, pretending to be busy. My heart raced as I watched Alexander turn back toward the yacht’s interior. His movements were precise and deliberate, as though he were willing himself to stay calm. But when his eyes met mine, something unspoken passed between us, a tension that had been building for days.

---

This wasn’t part of the plan. The principal charter guest, Alexander Jones—a name as sharp and commanding as the man himself—had insisted on returning to the yacht, claiming he needed something from his master cabin. As Chief Stewardess, I’d answered the call. I knew his wife, Melanie, was still ashore, off her head on coke and champagne since brunch. She was as irrelevant to him as the designer handbag she clutched everywhere she went—a shiny, golden trinket, a part of his controlled empire. Alexander could do whatever the fuck he wanted, and tonight, what he wanted was me.

He lounged on the bed like a king surveying his domain, his glacier-blue eyes locked onto mine with a hunger that made my skin heat. Tall and broad-shouldered, his dark hair was peppered with silver streaks, perfectly complementing the rugged stubble lining his strong, angular jaw. He exuded power and confidence, which made your knees weak and your heart race.

“You’re still standing there,” he said, his voice rough and edged with command. “What’s stopping you?”

The words sent a thrill through me. This was reckless, wild. If anyone found out… but the thought only made my blood hotter. I closed the distance between us, the teak floor cool under my bare feet. Petite and slender, I was acutely aware of the way his gaze devoured me, lingering on my toned legs and the curve of my hips beneath my shorts. His eyes traveled upward, stopping briefly at my pert breasts, the hardened peaks of my nipples pressing against the thin fabric of my blouse. I felt exposed under his gaze, yet powerful.

He reached out, his hand wrapping around my wrist, tugging me forward until I was standing between his spread legs.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Ivy?” he murmured, his other hand brushing the curve of my hip, sliding lower until it gripped the bare skin beneath my shorts. “I’ve been thinking about this all damn day.”

“Your wife is ashore,” I said, though the words felt weak even as I spoke them.

“And you’re here,” he countered, his voice dipping into something darker. “Right where I want you.”

Before I could reply, his lips crashed into mine, devouring me with a desperation that left no room for thought. His tongue teased mine, rough and insistent, and I melted into him, my hands fisting the sheet as he pulled me down onto his lap. I could feel him, hard and insistent against me, his body heat radiating through the thin barrier of fabric that separated us.

“Fuck, Ivy,” he growled against my lips, his hands sliding under my shirt to find bare skin. He pulled it off in one fluid motion, tossing it aside before running his hands over my breasts. His thumbs grazed my hard nipples, drawing a sharp gasp from my lips. My pert breasts fit perfectly into his large hands, his touch firm yet reverent, as if he couldn’t get enough of me.

But this wasn’t about me—not yet. Sliding off his lap, I knelt between his legs, my hands running up his thighs, feeling the tension in every hard muscle. I tugged at the waistband of his pants, pulling them down slowly, teasingly, until he was completely bare before me. My breath caught as I took him in. He was thick and hard, his cock standing proudly against his perfectly manscaped groin. His scent was intoxicating—musky and masculine, with a faint hint of his cologne clinging to his skin. I couldn’t resist leaning in, letting my lips brush the sensitive tip before swirling my tongue over it.

“Jesus, Ivy,” he groaned, his head tipping back against the headboard. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, his hands gripping the sheets as I set a slow, deliberate rhythm. My tongue traced every ridge and vein along his length, savoring his taste. He was salty and raw, his arousal filling the air between us, mingling with the sweet, juicy scent of my growing desire.

“Take all of it, sweetheart,” he growled, his voice thick with lust as he looked down at me. His hand reached down, threading through my brunette waves, gripping gently at the nape of my neck. “I want to feel every inch of you.”

Without breaking eye contact, I took him deeper, my lips wrapped around him as I hollowed my cheeks. His groan filled the room as I quickened the pace, my hand working in tandem with my mouth. The wet, rhythmic sounds of my movements mixed with his heavy breathing, the tension between us building with every passing second.

“You’re going to ruin me,” he muttered, his voice ragged. His hips lifted slightly, chasing the edge, and I could feel him pulsing against my tongue. I moaned softly, the vibrations drawing another guttural sound from his lips.

When I felt him start to lose control, I pulled back, licking my lips as I looked up at him with a sly smile. His cock was slick and glistening, his body taut with unspent need.

“You’re a fucking tease,” he said, his eyes blazing with frustration and hunger.

I rose to my feet, letting my shorts drop to the floor, leaving me completely bare before him. The cool air brushed against my skin, and I saw his eyes darken as they raked over me, lingering on the wetness glistening between my thighs. He reached for me, pulling me onto his lap, his hands gripping my hips as his mouth found mine in a kiss that was all hunger and desperation.

“Sweet and spicy,” he murmured against my lips, his fingers sliding between my legs to find me dripping and ready. “You’re perfect.”

His fingers teased me, sliding through my wetness before pressing inside, curling just right. I gasped, clutching his shoulders as he worked me with devastating precision. The scent of my arousal filled the air, sweet and heady, mingling with the musk of him. His mouth moved to my neck, his stubble grazing my skin as he kissed a trail down to my breasts, taking one pert nipple into his mouth and sucking hard.

He lowered himself further, spreading my legs wider as he settled between them. His lips followed the curve of my body, leaving a path of heat that made my skin flush. When his tongue finally found me, it was soft at first, a gentle flick against my clit that sent a shiver racing through me.

“Fuck, Alexander,” I gasped, my hands tangling in his dark, salt-and-pepper hair. The first slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue made my hips lift off the bed, chasing the sensation. He chuckled against me, the vibration sending another pulse of pleasure through my core.

He didn’t stay gentle for long. His tongue pressed harder, circling my clit with increasing speed. He alternated between sucking and licking, his lips and tongue working me with a relentless intensity that left me breathless. His hands gripped my thighs, holding me firmly in place as my legs began to tremble.

The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on me filled the cabin, mixing with my gasps and cries. My body arched, my fingers tugging harder at his hair as the pressure reached an almost unbearable peak. He groaned against me, his tongue plunging deeper, lapping up everything I gave him.

“Please,” I whimpered, the word tumbling from my lips as I felt the release building, coiling tighter and tighter. And then, with one final stroke of his tongue, it snapped. My body convulsed, a cry tearing from my throat as I came undone beneath him. The intensity of it wracked through me, and I couldn’t stop the gush of release that followed, soaking his mouth and chin.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with arousal as he pulled back, his lips and jaw glistening. He looked up at me with a wicked grin, his glacier-blue eyes dark with satisfaction. “You taste fucking incredible.”

I lay there trembling, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. But how he looked at me told me this was far from over.

With effortless strength, Alexander flipped me onto my stomach, pressing my hips into the plush sheets. I gasped at the sudden movement, my pulse quickening as his large hands slid down my back and over the curve of my ass. He paused, his palm grazing my skin before delivering a sharp, stinging slap that echoed in the room.

A shocked moan escaped my lips, the sting blending with a jolt of pleasure that made my body arch against him. “You like that, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. He smoothed his hand over the reddened skin, soothing and teasing in equal measure before delivering another slap. This time, the sound was accompanied by his dark chuckle.

Before I could respond, he spread me open, his fingers trailing through the wetness still pooling between my thighs. “You’re dripping for me,” he said, his voice thick with desire. I shuddered at his touch, my body aching for more.

He positioned himself behind me, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance. “Ready for me, Ivy?” he asked, his tone both warning and promise.

“Yes,” I breathed, my voice trembling with anticipation.

He pushed into me slowly, the stretch of him stealing my breath as he filled me. I cried out, my fingers clawing at the sheets as he paused, letting me adjust to his size. The heat of him, the way he stretched and claimed me, sent a rush of pleasure coursing through me.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping my hips as he began to move. His thrusts were slow and deliberate at first, each one sending a wave of pleasure and pain that left me gasping. But soon, his pace quickened, his hips slamming into mine with a force that made the bed creak beneath us.

The sound of our bodies coming together filled the room, mixing with my moans and his guttural groans. “You feel so fucking good,” he growled, his grip on my hips tightening as he drove into me harder, deeper. The sharp sting of his earlier slaps only heightened the sensation, the mix of pain and pleasure driving me closer to the edge.

“Alexander,” I cried, his name a desperate plea as my body arched beneath him, every nerve ending alive with sensation. His hand slid around to my front, his fingers finding my clit and circling it with a brutal precision that made me see stars.

“Come for me, Ivy,” he commanded, his voice rough and strained. “I want to feel you fall apart around me.”

His words sent me spiraling, my body clenching around him as the orgasm tore through me. I screamed his name, my nails digging into the sheets as the pleasure overwhelmed me, wave after wave crashing over me. Alexander didn’t stop, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. With one final, deep thrust, he groaned, his body tensing as he spilled into me, the heat of him sending another shiver through me.

We collapsed together, the room filled with the sound of our ragged breathing. He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck, his stubble grazing my skin as he whispered, “You’re fucking incredible.”

I smiled, trembling as I turned my head to look at him. “So are you,” I said, my voice soft but full of satisfaction.

---

The night stretched on, a blur of heat and tangled limbs, but as the first light of dawn crept through the balcony doors, the spell began to break. I lay awake, tangled in the sheets, his arm draped possessively over my waist. The scent of salt and sex hung heavy in the air, mingling with the faint hum of the yacht’s engines.

My mind raced, replaying every moment of the night while grappling with what it meant. This wasn’t just a reckless encounter. It was a line crossed, a boundary shattered. And I had no idea what came next.

I glanced at Alexander, whose features had softened in sleep yet remained impossibly handsome. For a fleeting moment, I imagined what it would be like to wake up like this every morning, to be more than just a momentary distraction in his world. But the thought was as fleeting as the fantasy itself.

Carefully, I slipped out from under his arm, slow and deliberate, trying not to wake him. The cool air brushed against my bare skin as I gathered my scattered clothes from the floor. My shirt was wrinkled, and my shorts crumpled, but I pulled them on anyway, my hands trembling slightly as I buttoned them up.

Standing by the master doorway, I stole one last glance at him. His chest rose and fell in steady breaths, the sheets tangled around his waist. For a moment, I thought I saw a vulnerability in him, something raw and unguarded that he would never show in the light of day. But I couldn’t stay to find out.

As I stepped into the hallway, the weight of reality settled over me like a shroud. The yacht was silent. The other crew were asleep below deck or on standby for the guest's return. By the time Melanie and the guests returned, I would be back in my uniform, ready to serve breakfast as though nothing had happened. I would be Ivy, the professional chief stewardess, not the woman who had spent the night in Alexander’s bed.

But as I walked through the dim corridors, I couldn’t shake the questions swirling in my mind. Would this happen again? Was I just another conquest, a fleeting moment of indulgence in his world of excess? Did he do this on every boat he chartered, with every woman who caught his eye?

I reached the pantry, pausing to smooth my hair and straighten my blouse. My reflection in the glass showed a woman who looked put together, but the sadness in her eyes told a different story. I’d crossed a line I could never uncross, and now, I had to live with the consequences.

As the first rays of sunlight lit up Gustavia, I took a deep breath and stepped back into my role. For now, that was all I could do. But deep down, a part of me wondered if I could ever leave that cabin behind.

xoxo Ivy Yveline