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Sean remains perched above me. He trails a finger along my neck, down to my breast, swirling it around my nipple. He watches me respond to his touch, the way my body tenses and lifts toward his hand.
That’s when I hear it—the mower. That’s what he was waiting for. Sean must have noticed them before me. “Come on, I’ll take you out for breakfast and we can—”
Before Sean can pull away and stand, I push his shoulders hard. He falls back against the wet sand as I loop a leg over his hips and climb on top of him. The wind whips through my hair as I settle into place, moving so he can slip inside of me.
We both moan in unison as I take him all the way in. Perched like this on top of him, I can feel him deep inside of me, hard and ready. It’s fucking perfect. I moan something to that extent, how much I love him, how much I absolutely adore his dick.
Sean swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing in his neck as he swears. His hands find my hips as he looks up at me. His body is covered in droplets of water. Sweat lines his brow, dampening his dark hair. “You’re a fucking goddess, Avery. A beautiful siren of the sea.” Those cobalt eyes linger on my breasts before flicking up to my hair caught in the breeze.
The sounds grow closer as the men move into the pool area with their machines, cleaning the lawn, the cement, and the swimming pool. Those reeds are too thin to completely obscure us. Actually, the person on top is the one who will be seen. Sean is laying down, which means my bare breasts and the look on my face when I climax—I can’t think about someone else seeing that. That’s my problem with it. Those things are for Sean. I voice my concerns and he laughs.
“I love you. I do not want to share you. Ever. But that’s not sharing. It’ll make every man and woman who sees us envious. They’ll want you, what you have—but your mine. I’ll do whatever you want, but your concerns about that aren’t mine. I want to show off what we have, so maybe I am a little bit of a—”
His words turn to a garbled moan as I start to rock on his hips. I always felt like I’d want this to be private, but the way he just said it—the way he made me feel—I can’t stop. I don’t want to. And I’m not lost to lust, not yet. The fear of discovery fades and I only think of him.
Sean beneath me, letting me have him any way I want, laying on the wet sand just for me. I slide my hips up and then slam down hard. His lips form a perfect O and he’s conflicted between tipping his head back in the sand and watching me. Those blue eyes snap open as I do it again. Then again. Every time I do it, I move up, nearly off of him so that I can feel the tip of his length before slamming down, deeper and harder. Each time he moans and tightens his grip my waist, pulling me down to intensify the feeling.
The rocking starts out slow, methodical, and hard. Water splashes as I move. I don’t take my eyes off his as I take him in, deeper and deeper. His gaze drops to my breasts as they bounce with each movement. A rhythm forms, like a slow deliberate dance. The control I feel is insatiable. I want to be here, I want to watch him writhe beneath me, beg me for release. Screw the tantra chair. This is so much better.
When Sean tries to force my hips to move faster, I clutch his wrists and pin them over his head. My breasts press against his chest, bobbing along his chin, as I continue the slow seductive movements. I slip a hand behind his neck and pull his head toward my breast. His mouth is on me, devouring me, as I ride him. The evenly paced movements begin to lose their steadiness a few moments later.
He begs me, “Fuck me, baby, hard. Please. Please, Avery.” He whispers my name, saying the same thing over and over again.
I push him back into the sand and sit on his lap, riding him hard and fast until it becomes frantic. His hands hold onto my hips as we rock, as I ride him over the edge. I feel his heat rush into me as his fingers press into my thighs, holding me in place. Lust is still holding me in place, driving me to finish. He knows and begins to move my hips slowly, deeply like before. That’s all it takes to push me so high, that I can’t think, can’t do anything but fuck him. I need him. I need to feel that release.
I’m clutching my breasts as I feel a finger touch the sensitive, swollen spot between my legs. When I slide down one last time on his long, hard shaft, I shatter. With a loud cry, I buck into him until I’m sated. Sweating, and still on top of him, I look down into his eyes.
He’s smiling up at me, his body beautiful, perfect under me. “You amaze me.” His voice is rough, husky.
“I love you.” I remain like that, upright, glistening in the sun, letting him watch me for as long as he wants.
CHAPTER 4
SUNDAY AFTERNOON
FERRO PENTHOUSE, NEW YORK
We arrive at Constance’s Manhattan penthouse mid-afternoon. She’s not there anymore. Neither is Mom. The construction on the Ferro mansion was completed while we were away. Both women moved out onto Long Island, residing at the estate.
Constance welcomed us to stay here as long as we wish. While Sean promised me a little house with a white picket fence, that sounds like a chore for another day. Going house hunting doesn’t appeal to me at all right now. We can do that after the baby comes. When summer ends. When I’m not the size of a manatee.
The car ride from Teterboro Airport to Manhattan is short. It’s Sunday and there’s minimal traffic. The flurry of noise that will be present in the morning is a little overwhelming. For the past few weeks, I’ve had nothing but the ocean and Sean’s voice to fill my ears. The constant car horns and engines rumbling will take a little adjustment. Hell, everything will take adjustment. Buildings block the sky and cast long shadows on the city. I once thought it looked like lace made of shadows. Now it just annoys me.
Everything annoys me. My patience is worn out. I barely sleep anymore. Partly because of pregnancy. The other part is all crazy. The nightmares resurfaced and they’re not pleasant. I’d be downing cappuccinos like crazy right now, but spare the baby from the caffeine.
So I’m tired and grumpy. I’m hungry and have an insane craving for little golden conch fritters. Yeah. It’s the same food that made me hurl a few weeks back. I feel completely nuts and am close to tears.
Sean can tell. He takes my hand in his, rubbing his thumb gently over the back of my palm. “Here,” he offers and helps me get into his favorite chair. It feels so good to sit down. Sean takes my foot, removes my cherry red shoe, and rubs my feet until I’m moaning.
A few moments later, a driver arrives with plain noodles from my favorite Chinese place. All sauces on the side. I throw my arms around his neck and kiss his cheek while he’s still holding the bags of food.
Pulling back, I ask, “How’d you know?”
“Just lucky, that’s all.” Sean grins at me, proud of himself, translating the craving into something I could have that could arrive quickly. I have no doubt that
the fridge will have conch fritters on a shelf tomorrow. Sean listens and acts, trying to make things as easy as possible.
I open a box of noodles and grab the chopsticks, pinching the food, ready to toss it into my mouth. “That was a weird leap. Conch to Chinese.” I lift a brow at him. “Seriously? How’d you know?”
Sean smirks, flashing that crooked grin my way, dips his head and confesses, “You were talking about Chinese food and these noodles a few days ago. By the time they would have arrived at the island, we were leaving. I was hoping your cravings didn’t shift yet.” He shrugs. “I got lucky.”
Leaning, forward, I put the box of food on my lap and kiss his cheek. Our eyes meet when I pull back. “Seriously. You’re a god. I’d think that without pregnant brains. A god in the bedroom and the kitchen. You’re the total package.”
He winks at me and opens his own box of food. “No talk about my package until after dinner, Miss Smith. Eat up.”
CHAPTER 5
Tomorrow is doctor day. We can learn the gender of the baby if we want to know. I’ve been torn. Something inside of me wants it to remain a secret, but if I found out now I could daydream about holding my son or daughter. Something about knowing makes it more real and even though I know I’m going to have a baby, it still feels surreal. I wonder if that feeling will ever go away?
Rolling over, I groan, hand on my huge belly, forcing it to roll with me. Sean’s blue eyes are open, and there’s a smirk on those sexy lips. “Evening.” I breathe out the word and it reeks of exhaustion.
Sean props up on an elbow, his eyes lock with mine. “Good evening, my beautiful goddess.”
I laugh half-heartedly and sigh too loudly. “I feel like a beached whale. I can barely move. My stomach looks like a road map, and—”
