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The truth is I want to be alone with my man.
I just needed to make sure that my big sister was okay with it first.
And she is, she really is.
I feel like punching the air in pure joy. My womb does a happy dance inside of me, probably knowing that this is leading somewhere lust-filled and hotter than fire.
I stare at myself in the changing room mirror, my eyes skirting over the way the wetsuit clings to my body. I feel so big with the tight-fitting fabric.
Self-consciousness flurries through me, twisting in my belly, making me want to scream.
I try to remember how Kris forced me to call myself beautiful. I try to claw onto some of that conviction and cherish it as my own.
But the more I stare, the more certain I become that there’s no way I can go out there and present myself to Kris looking this way. Surely he’ll laugh at me and tell me to get changed.
“Kimberly,” his rumbling voice comes from the other side of the door, so loud and assertive I could swear it causes the room to tremble.
“Yes?” I murmur and then realize I’ve spoken barely above a whisper.
“Yes?” I say, louder.
“You better not be doing what I suspect you’re doing in there,” he snarls.
I almost blurt out a lie, but then I remember our mantra.
Honesty, always.
“Maybe,” I sigh. “It’s just so …”
“I’m coming in,” he growls.
He pushes the door open.
I gasp when my eyes drink in the sight of his bare torso. He’s got the wetsuit half unzipped, showing his massive chest muscles, swollen, throbbing. His abs are well-defined, thick ridges of muscle up and down his belly. He has a freaking eight pack. His shoulders are boulders and his neck is thick and powerful.
My eyes flit down, and I gasp again.
I can see him, all of him, in the wetsuit.
His manhood is a clear outline.
It’s huge.
“Fucking hell,” he snarls, closing the door behind him. “Jesus Christ, I didn’t think this through. Look how tight that is on you. It shows your figure perfectly. We might have to rethink jet-skiing. I don’t know if I can have another man see you like this. I might end up drowning him.”
Starlight shimmers across me, and yet my self-sabotaging instincts rise inside of me, poisoning the moment.
“You don’t think I look f—”
He doesn’t let me complete the word fat.
He surges across the room like a beast, all primal energy, and he grabs my shoulders and pushes me up against the wall.
“Don’t you fucking dare denigrate yourself, Kimberly,” he snaps. “You look so goddamn sexy in that wetsuit, it hurts. Goddamn, these tits.”
He slides his hands up my body, squeezing me harder each moment, compressing my flesh as he makes growling noises of lust. He comes to my breasts and massages them through the wetsuit, staring firmly into my eyes.
I moan and twitch against him.
The wetsuit is so tight, so close to my body, that it’s like he’s massaging my bare breasts.
My nipples get hard and tingly.
“Fuck, look how excitable you are,” he snarls. “You really are my personal nympho in the making, Kimberly. I love how perky your nipples get.”
“I can’t help it,” I sigh, as he targets my nipples specifically, moving his forefingers and thumbs around them with fast frantic movements.
“I don’t want you to help it,” he snarls.
He tilts his head at me when I reach up and claw at his chest. I need to feel the hard muscle, the heat of him. There’s no give at all in his flesh. It’s like he’s carved out of marble.
“Holy fuck,” he groans. “You’re going to come for me just from doing this, aren’t you? You horny, insatiable thing.”
He grabs my breasts harder, squeezing them together, and then holds them like that as he strokes his thumbs up and down both of my nipples.
Sensations erupt inside of me, fire and light dancing through my body.
My nipples become like the heated tips of fire, ecstasy moving through me, swirling in my belly.
I move forward on impulse, grinding my thighs against him, feeling my wet suit push against my pussy.
“Nah ah,” he smirks, pushing me back softly with his thigh. “I want to see you come just from this. Then maybe after – if you cream like a good girl – I’ll give that pussy a really good work out. What do you think, Kimberly? Want to lose your virginity on a yacht?”
Anxiety tries to pound through me.
But then he flicks his thumbs harder against the hard nubs of my nipples.
Needy, hungry pleasure flurries through me in fresh waves.
My womb screams at me to nod, to be the good girl he brands me, to take everything this man has to give.
“I want to,” I cry.
He’s squeezing my breasts with even more possessive force now.
The pleasure is new and exciting and all I can do is ride it out, focusing on the ever-increasing heat of my breasts.
