Once we reach a wooden shed attached to a jetty, Isaac releases my hand to gathers a short-sleeved wetsuit and a life jacket from inside.
When he returns, he clutches my hand in his and guides us down to the end of the wooden jetty. Excitement rushes through my body when I notice two Wave Runners tied to the end of the pier. I’ve always wanted to ride a jet ski.
He dumps the lifejacket on a wooden bench before demanding, “Strip.”
I eye him curiously, unsure of what he means; I’m barely clothed as it is. His brazen gaze darts down to my denim shorts. Cringing, I slide my shorts down my quivering thighs, which are shuddering from Isaac’s intense gaze as he watches me. Once my shorts are removed, he crouches down in front of me to assist me into the wetsuit. Images of me kneeling in front of him yesterday morning come flashing back into my mind. Even though it was less than twenty-four hours, it seems like it was a lifetime ago. I shake my head to clear my thoughts before placing my feet into the tight openings of the wetsuit.
It takes several pulls and yanks to get the rigid material of the wetsuit up my thighs and over my stomach. During the process, his hands brush across my inner thighs and stomach. Every fine hair on my body bristles as my sex pulsates with desire. Isaac inhales loudly before his eyes lift to mine. My breathing shallows from his commanding gaze. He winks before continuing to pull the wetsuit up and over my shoulders. By the time he has the wetsuit zipped, my rampant horniness is teetering on edge, threatening to fall at any moment.
“Do you want to wear a lifejacket?” His voice is rugged and thick.
Unable to form words, I shake my head.
When Isaac straddles the Wave Runner, the muscles in his arms flex and an unexpected, bold moan spills from my lips. Hearing my shameless response, his lips tug high before he offers me his hand. The muscles in his stomach clench when I band my arms around his waist. I let out an excited squeal when our Wave Runner darts away from the jetty.
* * *
The past forty-five minutes have been pure torture. Every jolt the Wave Runner does makes my sex convulse. My barely-covered chest is squashed against Isaac’s bare back, and my erect nipples scrape his smooth skin as they bounce along with the movements of the Wave Runner. My bikini is so thin it feels like I’m naked under my wetsuit, so my vivid imagination is getting carried away.
A sense of reprieve washes over me when the visual of the jetty comes over the foreshore. Having Isaac so close and fighting not to touch him is the worse form of cruelty. I adjust my position to lessen the immense tingling sensation running rampant through my body. My thighs tighten around his hips when he yanks me back in close to him until my chest is once again plastered to his back, and my pussy is rubbing his backside. We’re so close, not an ounce of space remains between our bodies. Not even air exists between us.
Excitement sparks through my body when every feeble movement I make causes his muscles to contract. Something in the air shifts when I stop fighting the Wave Runner's actions to allow my hands to slither the ripples of his stomach. My pulse thrums in my fingertips when I run them along his six pack. The lengthening of my breaths indicate I'm treading into dangerous territory, but I can't stop myself. My body's needs, desires, and cravings are outweighing my shrewdness.
A raspy groan escapes Isaac’s lips when my index finger glides over the fine hairs on his perfect V muscle. His gruff moan spurs on my pursuit as my impending climax overrules rational thinking. The warmth of my breath rebounds off his shoulder before the lash of my tongue cools his salty sun-scorched skin.
His grip on the handlebars tightens when my hand glides into the rim of his shorts. My thighs quake when my fingertips graze the tip of his swollen cock that is struggling to be contained in his black shorts.
The Wave Runner stops surging forward when I curl my hand around his shaft. Although I’m being spurred on by a mass surge of brazenness, I freeze, hesitant from my boldness. I want to touch him more than my lungs crave air, but should I be doing this?
Sensing my hesitation, Isaac curls his hand over mine to guide it up and down his impressively large shaft. His rhythm is fast enough to be pleasurable, but slow enough he won’t come anytime soon.
“Just like that, baby,” he breathes out, his words thick and raspy.
When he releases my hand from his grasp, I slide it up and down his veined cock in the rhythm he demonstrated. He groans when my thumb runs over his knob to gather a bead of pre-cum formed there. I use it as lubrication to quicken my strokes. My seamless pumps have his body coiling tight, racing toward release in a record setting pace.
Slithering my spare hand into his shorts, I cup his balls, squeezing and kneading them. When his breath catches in his throat a short time later, I know he is close to climax.
“Fuck, Isabelle.”
The sexy roughness of his voice has my climax hovering toward the edge. It usually takes a lot more stimulation to make me come, but hearing Isaac’s gruff moans have my orgasm teetering on the brink. Once he topples into ecstasy, I’ll be right alongside him.
My eyes pop open when Isaac’s hand suddenly stills mine. I groan as my insides scream, demanding their release.
Lifting my gaze, I discover what caused Isaac’s swift reaction. Colby is on a Wave Runner heading toward us, his speed unchecked. When I attempt to pull my hands out of Isaac’s shorts, he seizes my wrist and holds it in place. I squeeze his cock hard, trying to force him to relinquish my hand. My sex gets wetter when his cock twitches in response to my painful squeeze.
“Are you guys okay? Are you out of fuel?” Colby pulls his Wave Runner close to ours.
“We’re a little busy.” Isaac’s tone is arrogant.
Cocking a brow, Colby assesses my face. I’m sure my flushed expression and wide eyes will clue him in on why we're busy, but instead of being angry at what he’s just stumbled upon, he grins and winks.
My brows scrunch as a mask of confusion slips over my face.How is he not as embarrassed as me?
“Here, let me tow you back,” Colby offers, throwing a rope to Isaac.
“We don’t need a fucking tow.” Isaac clutches the rope and throws it back to Colby.
Since Isaac has relinquished my wrist from his hold, I remove my hand from his shorts.
