“I guess I’ll miss the food. Oh! And the yacht. That yacht was something else.”
I’m toying with him. I know exactly what he wants me to say, but I won’t say it. He turns me around to face him, giving me a look of disbelief.
“What?” I pretend to be baffled.
“Food and views? That’s it?”
“Is there something else?”
“Yes!” His grip on my waist makes me laugh, his fingernails digging into me softly, tickling me. I squeal as we wrestle around on the mattress. Othello rolls on his back, pretending my power is too much for him to bear. I pin down his wrist and straddle his hips.
“Damn it. You know, I just remembered. Thereissomething else I’m going to miss.”
His eyebrows raise. “Tell me.”
“I’m going to miss these…” My tongue traces the outline of his lip, then slides into his mouth. We kiss. I ease down his body, my lips trailing kisses to his chest, his nipples, his stomach, and to his heavy erection already standing at attention. Othello is already naked from last night’s love session. Which lasted so long we were both spent when it was all over, falling into a comatose sleep.
“But I’m really going to miss this.”I hold his dick in my hands.
“Oh,” Othello groans, his eyes darken as he watches me.
I lick my lips before wrapping my fist around his stiff wood. A strangled moan comes out of his mouth, and I smile, loving how I can control him feeling this way. I sit on my knees in between his thighs, and I stroke him up and down as he whispers curses under his breath.
“Yeah, I’m going to miss this very much.”
I glide my wet tongue up the thick pulsing veins under his skin until I reach the tip and swallow him whole.
“Fuck…” he hisses.
Othello gazes at me, as though I’ve stolen every coherent thought from his head. His hands curl into my locs, and I show him just how much I’m going to miss him.My mouth takes him in faster and deeper, until I feel his dick in the back of my throat. It feels so good, him sliding in and out of my mouth, that I find myself moaning too.
“Shit, baby. This feels so good.”
“Mmhm,” I hum. “Now you tell me what you’re going to miss.”
He can barely get what he wants to say out as he struggles with one simple word.
“You.”
Two hours later,I’m standing at the edge of a boat scanning the open water, anxiously waiting for what the tour guide, Braxton, says is going to take place at any moment.
Earlier, we’d had a picnic on the beach and then spent a lazy hour wandering the outdoor markets hand in hand near thedocks. I thought we were just killing time before heading back to the resort, until he suddenly steered me right past the shops and down the wooden planks of the marina, stopping directly in front of a gorgeous, gleaming white catamaran.
The boat rocks gently beneath our feet as I grip the railing, my eyes scanning the glittering ocean. Othello stands behind me, his hands over mine. My heart is doing cartwheels.
“How did you pull this off?” I ask him.
“I just knew the right people to ask,” he answers.
I turn to look at him in awe, and he smiles down at me, his eyes gleaming with affection. It hits me like a physical blow to the chest. The realization. Settling over me with startling clarity. I don’t just like this man. I’ve fallen for him.
“There it goes!” Braxton calls out, pointing out into the open sea. I turn back to the water, following the guide’s outstretched finger. Dolphins jut out of the water, their sleek bodies rising and falling in and out of the water like a perfectly synchronized dance. I stare in awe, a smile I’ve been wearing all day frozen on my face. It’s crazy how something so simple could take my breath away like this. But I love it, and something inside me blooms.
“This is so beautiful,” I gasp.
“It actually is,” Othello admits, sounding just as stunned as I feel.
“There is something so comforting about seeing them out here like this,” I say as another dolphin breaks through the water. “It’s so different seeing them wild and free in their own habitat. Nobody’s teaching them tricks or telling them what to do. They’re exactly where they’re supposed to be.”
