Page 32 of Redemption Island

“Mouse,” he croaked, as I slid forward a touch on his lap. The heat of his erection was merely a centimeter from my core. We weren’t touching there, but the anticipation of pressure made me wet. I’d reached his shoulders and curled my palms over the bulk of them. Slowly, my hands skimmed down the length of his arms. He was still wearing my bracelet. Trapping my fingers as they drew close to his, his eyes remained closed, but they twitched. He wanted to open them and see me, but I wasn’t ready.

“Not yet,” I whispered. “Trust me.”

“Mouse.” His voice hitched, and I cut him off with the press of my lips. I was in control, I told myself, curling my hand around the nape of his neck. I lowered onto the length of him and he hissed against my lips. I rubbed up and down the stiff shaft beneath the heat between my thighs. Our shorts created a welcome friction. My mouth didn’t leave his and I slowly sucked on his lower lip before melting both of mine to his. He took the lead with our mouths while he let me conduct the building pleasure in our laps. His mouth moved over mine, drawing me into his with deep drags. When his tongue crossed the line, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I drew back, gripping his shoulders as anchors, and rolling against him. I slid my center down the heat of him, desperate to ignite us both.

“Keep that up, Mouse, and we’re going to have a problem.”

I nodded as my lids drifted shut. Continuing to ride him at the pace I set, I ignored his words. I was taking control of him, while his body was pleasing mine.

“Mmmm, baby, I like you taking what you want,” he growled, flexing his hands on my hips. He tightly squeezed, as if to stop me. “But Mouse, we don’t have to do this. We have ten months to discover one another the way we should have in the first place.”

The words spurred me onward. I made no move to stop, struggling as the storm in my lower belly grew to threatening proportions. His fingers dug into my hips, and he guided our rhythm with his fingertips. The friction under the seam of my shorts grew, the tension reaching a new height as I rubbed over him, searching for relief I hadn’t experienced with him yet.

“Like that, baby.” It wasn’t a question. He was telling me he approved of what we were doing. My mouth fell back to his but I couldn’t concentrate on two areas at once. As my eruption reached its peak, my mouth hovered over his without kissing him. I groaned against his lips, drawing his breath as my oxygen because I could hardly breathe. My body tingled with relief. He captured my lips as he stilled me over him. The short jolt of his erection under me alerted me to his own release, and a moist warmth seeped between us. I felt like a vixen, as I’d cunningly taken what I wanted from him.

“You undo me,” he moaned against our combined lips, still pressed to one another, but not kissing.

“I was hoping to tame you,” I whispered.

“I think I want you to tame me,” he hummed. “But you make me wild instead.”

+ +

“Wait,” he said, reaching for my hand and stopping me in my tracks as we traveled a new path through the jungle. I stopped, thinking he heard something or saw something. Instead, he cupped my jaw and tugged me to him, kissing me deep enough to lose my thoughts, my breath, and my whereabouts. Then he pulled back, smiling slowly as if he savored the taste on his lips, and began trekking through the trees once again, as if nothing happened, as if he hadn’t just chipped away at my heart a little more.

“You seem to know your way around these woods,” he said, and for some reason, a Robert Frost poem popped into my head.

“Years of practice,” I grumbled. He twisted his head to glance behind at me.

“Tell me,” he asked, but then looked forward again to give me the freedom to speak.

“My uncle. I told you about him and his disappointment that he inherited me. I also mentioned how inappropriate he was at times, and it became more difficult to avoid him as I grew older.” I shivered with the memories. “He liked to play this game with me when I was younger and newly under his care.” My memory raced backward. His voice in my head.

“He’d tell me if I could get myself out of the woods, I would be free.”

“Free from what?” Tack casually asked as he walked forward. He’d missed the implication in my voice. When I didn’t answer, he stopped and turned to face me. “Free from what?” His voice lowered as he looked down at me.

“I’d be free from him. If I could outrun him, I won, but if he caught me, I was his.”

Tack reached forward, but let his fingers drop from my cheek moments before touching me.

“Did he ever win?” he hissed, his voice menacing and low.

“Never. I memorized those woods, making maps in my head. I always found my way out of danger.” Tack continued to stare at me, his fingers flinching to comfort me, but something in my expression warned him not to touch me. “I actually think he enjoyed the chase.”

I recalled my earlier memory of him standing over my bed.

One day you’ll give me everything I want from you.

The words transposed in my head, mixing with Tack’s voice. How sinister they sounded from one man. How desperate they sounded from another. He’d mentioned he wanted me to give him things. He wanted to be asked. A strange silence curled between us. Was Tack only interested in the chase with me? Or did he mean what he said? He wanted permission. We seemed to dance on the edge of a precipice, where the tiniest imbalance, either way, could crash everything.

He squeezed my hand, and we continued climbing higher up the steep mountain, passing the natural landing I’d found when I ran from him. We seemed to be traveling with our own deep thoughts as backpacks weighing down our journey.

“That looks like a cave,” I announced as we came to another clearing. Spinning in a circle, I faced the great expanse of the ocean and a breathtaking view of the distant islands. It appeared as if they were only a few miles away, and in some instances, they might have been, but they were far enough to prevent escape. I turned back to find Tack entering the cave. I didn’t wish to escape any longer. I didn’t know how I’d leave him in ten months. Maybe the time frame sweetened the growing relationship. An end date allowed us to be as free as we wanted with one another, with no further commitment. My stomach soured at the thought.

Tack disappeared, and I hesitantly followed.

“Are bats in there? I hate bats.” I groaned, ducking as I entered, even though my head was nowhere near the ceiling.