“That’s it, baby. Relax for me. You’re doing such a good job. Such a perfect cock warmer. The longer we stay like this, the harder you’ll come when I flip you over and fuck you into this lounger.”
“Alaric.” I squirm, struggling not to give into the urge to grind against him.
“Shh,” he soothes. “I know it’s hard. But you’re doing so well. You’re the perfect vessel, Evangeline. Stay nice and still for me, if you can. I want to see how long we can make this last.”
He continues whispering dirty thoughts and praising me while I use all my willpower to hold steady. Eventually, I slip into a meditative state—I can hear him, and I can certainly still feel him, but there’s a heady distance to my thoughts. Every nerve in my body is on fire and my clit has its own pulse. And yet… my mind is quiet. My body is so relaxed. A dreamy haze envelops me as Alaric’s hands stroke up and down my spine.
Several more minutes pass. The throbbing in my core grows, and before long, my limbs start to tremble.
“Enough,” he rasps.
Then we’re moving. He lifts me with ease, keeping himself buried deep as he relocates us to another lounger, this one beneath the umbrella.
He lays me down on the cushion and sucks a mark into my neck. “Hard and fast?” he asks.
I nod roughly, my vision going spotty.
“Hang on, angel. I’ll get you there.”
As if it would take more than a few thrusts to send me hurtling toward release.
He presses his chest against mine, half-smothering me in the way I love. Like this, with him buried so deep inside me, we become one, and the world around me settles.
The sounds of the sea and the birds flying overhead go quiet.
There’s no longer any fear about who might see us.
I don’t stress about my to-do list or wonder if I’m enough.
I simply yield, eager for what I know will be the most soul-aligning orgasm of my life to hit me.
“Please,” I beg, my inner walls spasming in anticipation. “Please fuck me.”
He swells inside me, the connection forged with so much desire, passion, and trust that I can’t think of anything beyond this man and this moment.
I want to keep him buried inside me forever. I want to clench around him, locking him in tight, and never let him go.
“I need to paint your insides with my cum more than I need my next breath.”
I whimper at his confession, his words coating my own delusional possessiveness like warm, thick syrup. Our mutual desire is an endless pool of reassurance.
As promised, the first thrust is hard, making the legs of the lounger scrape against the deck.
He does it again and again, fucking me like an animal, wild, unabashed energy rolling off him. I’m already coming when he presses the heel of his hand into my clit, but the pressure sends me careening harder and faster toward my release.
Fireworks in every color detonate behind my closed eyelids, creating a spectacular display, each wave of release illuminating brighter than the last.
I feel everything and nothing at the same time, blissed out in a way I never knew was possible.
With a groan, Alaric goes still, then collapses on me, framing my face with his arms.
When I finally crack my eyes open and find him peering down with nothing but affection, my heart catches in my throat.
That was quite possibly the best orgasm of my life.
And yet that sensation has nothing on the way I feel right now, being held in his arms, drinking in his adoring gaze.
CHAPTER 43
