I feel the heavy swell of his dick pressing against me, pulsing and jumping, and I want to take it in my mouth, but Othello hooks my legs around his waist and places me on top of the counter-height dresser. He spreads my thighs wide, then lifts my legs over his shoulders as he lowers himself, his face in the heat of my pussy. The look he gives me nearly steals my breath away.
“You have no idea how fuckin’ sexy you are right now, Marley.”
My fingers curl through his hair as he runs his tongue through the folds of my pussy.
I’m drenched. Dripping, wet, and throbbing.
“You taste so good, baby.”
“Yeah?”
My hips gyrate into his face, and a broken sound escapes me. No man has ever made me feel this good, this desired, this special. I’m about to lose myself. Pleasure ripples through me, and I feel like a dam seconds away from bursting open.
“Othello!” I pant. “Don’t stop.”
And he doesn’t. He gives me his all. He flicks his lethal tongue on my clit after he fucks me with it.
“Uhh…! I’m gonna cum!”
He drinks my nectar until my legs begin to tremble, never stopping. He peers up at me then, his tongue still inside of my moist canal, but his eyes gazing at me like a hungry lion. I let outa broken whimper. My body convulses, and before I know it, I’m gushing like a tidal wave.
My cries are loud and crazed. Othello climbs up my body, shushing me with his mouth. I can barely contain myself, my breathing shallow and my chest heaving like I’d run a marathon.
“Oh my God,” I groan. Othello smirks before kissing me gently on the cheek, my collarbone, my shoulder.
“You good?” he asks.
Is that a trick question?
A soft, ragged laugh escapes me. “I don’t think I’ve ever been better.”
33
happy ending
MARLEY
“You’readorable when you’re happy,” Othello tells me.
I pop a piece of chocolate into my mouth. The slight bitterness turns into something so sweet and delicious that my eyes close in pure joy. Earlier, we’d trailed the grounds of the Golden Coast Farm behind Hugo, the owner of the chocolate farm, and a small group of tourists, weaving through rows of cacao trees. We learned how cacao is grown, harvested, and transformed into chocolate. We cracked open colorful cacao pods, sampled the sweet fruit surrounding the beans, and listened as Hugo told us about the farm’s history. Now we’re back at the lodge, taste testing a variety of handcrafted chocolates made right here on the property.
I’m not going to lie. I have been over the moon since Othello pulled into the property, so I can see why he would think I’m giddy. I’d been looking forward to this tour since before I boarded the plane to Maui.
“Adorable is for babies,” I tell Othello. “I’m a grown woman.”
“Okay, my bad. You’re sexy as fuck when you’re happy.”
I cover my laugh with my hand, accidentally smearing ganache on my chin. Othello reaches over and wipes it away with his thumb. Then, without breaking eye contact, he brings his thumb to his mouth and licks the chocolate off.
Something inside me melts.
This man.
I reach for another truffle, one with Hawaiian sea salt sprinkled on top. “Did you try these?” I ask him.
“I did. They were pretty good but not as good as this one.” He plucks a fudge square from the tray and holds it out to me. I part my lips, waiting for him to place the decadent morsel in my mouth. His eyes flicker before he places it on my tongue. I chew it, the smooth chocolate melting into something buttery and sweet. Then there is a crunch.
Macadamia nut.
