Page 34 of Redemption Island

“I’d choose lightning,” I said. His eyes widened, but he didn’t speak.

“It crackles from the earth.” My feet began to stomp, and I developed a rhythm that strangely matched a song popping up in my head. “Lost on You” by LP set the tone for me, and my hips swayed in addition to my feet stomping. My hands slipped up my thighs as my hips rocked side to side.

“And the tension builds,” I murmured, closing my eyes to the intensity of his stare. My fingers tickled over my belly, exposed by the tight tee that rose upward. I continued to move, skimming my flat palms upward, over my rib cage, and eventually cupping my own breasts. My eyes opened to focus on him, watching his chest rise and fall as he followed the movement of me. My palms came together and slid up my chest, rounding my neck and lacing into my hair. Raising the weight of it, I combed through the heavy locks.

“Then it breaks free.” My hands released, my arms rose, fingers extended. I slowly turned in a circle, placing my back to him and continuing to move with the rhythm in my head. My hands waved above my head.

“And it illuminates the sky.” My hips still swayed as my head tipped back and I looked at the darkening night rolling over us. A tempo beat in my head, encouraging the movement of my body, as I worshipped the sky above me. I was lost to myself for a moment—the cool sand at my feet, the midnight sky over my head.

“What did you learn from the lightning, though?” His voice was directly behind me, but he didn’t startle me. In fact, I felt his presence but refused to let it break the spell I was under. I wanted him to join me instead.

“I learned that even something as dangerous as lightning can be beautiful,” I whispered out to the ocean before me. “And even lightning has a weakness. It cannot be alone. Thunder always works in tandem with it.” Hands gripped my hips, and the heat of his body pressed behind mine. He joined my rhythm, his hips matching the sway of mine, and as one, we danced. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend we were at a night club. Perhaps The Front Door, on the dance floor, surrounded by a sea of people, where the only two that existed for us was the two of us. But I didn’t want to close my eyes. I didn’t need to pretend. It was only us, along the shore of the ocean, the stars our spotlight, and we danced without a care.

He spun me to face him without missing a beat and increased the exaggerated tempo as if a DJ set a sultry, pulsating beat. He guided my body to move with his as his hands climbed from my hips to the sides of my breasts. He skimmed under my arms, out to my fingers, and in one smooth move, spun me away from him. Then he tugged me back, gyrating in a way that rivaled dirty dancing. I could have giggled in my awkwardness. I wasn’t one for public dancing, but this was Tack, and I gave in to him. Lost on him. He was fully engrossed in our dancing, rolling my hips to match his. Dragging my thigh upward, the dance had taken a new direction. He dipped me backward, kissed my throat and slowly lifted me. He moved us as one, released me again to spin away from him and then curled me back against his chest. We ended in the same position we started, my back to his front, and we swayed as he nibbled at my neck.

“Come inside the tent with me.” His voice turned husky. “Please.” The intention in that single word was clear. He was asking, and I could deny him, but I didn’t want to. I nodded to agree.

“I promise I’ll be gentle. We’ll go at your pace,” he whispered into my skin. I twisted to look up at him over my shoulder before reaching for his hand and stepping away from him. I walked backward, guiding him with each labored step on the soft sand. Reaching the open tent flaps, I ducked and led us inside. His pallet was on the ground, and I released his hand to climb to the center of his mattress. His eyes didn’t leave mine, and I tugged off my tight T-shirt.

“Sweet Jesus, Mouse.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen me naked before, but his eyes swallowed the heavy weight of my breasts peeking out the top of my bra. He fell to his knees, jostling the mattress, and stripped off his own tee. “This okay?” he asked, but the desperate look in his eyes begged me to agree. “I want to be close to you, Juliet.”

I nodded, and he leaned forward to kiss me, taking his time to trace over my lips with his own, and then added his tongue to memorize the curl and curve. I sucked at him until his mouth became one with mine and I found myself pressed back to lay on his cool sheet. A breeze blew in from the open flaps and the air was refreshing. His hand hesitated at my waist before traveling upward and cupping one of my breasts over my bra. I moaned into his mouth as he squeezed and then slipped a finger under the cotton material. The tip of his finger flicked over the sharp peak of my nipple, and he broke the kiss.

“Let me take this off.” His statement was a question, a commanding plea. I nodded, and he nearly sighed with relief as his hand slipped behind my back and removed the clasps. Dragging the material forward, achy breasts fell, nipples standing at attention with the soft breeze. He took a moment to knead each one of them before dropping his mouth to latch onto one at a time. He sucked and he tugged, and my hips rose in search of his lower body. His palm lowered to the waist of my shorts, fumbling with the button while his mouth distracted me. Then he kissed a trail of sucking kisses and sliding tongue over my belly to the edge of my shorts.

“Please, Mouse.” He blew air onto my lower abdomen as he hesitated for my permission. My hands came to the side of my shorts and pushed them downward, giving him his answer. He completed the rest of the removal, taking my underwear with them. I lay naked in more ways than one before him, and he sat back on his calves to take in the view. The breeze blew up my open legs and the air tickled, adding to the pulsing need between my thighs.

“You’re so beautiful, Mouse, all spread out and waiting for me. I don’t know where to start. I want to please you in so many ways.” He didn’t wait for an answer as his hands massaged up my thighs and tugged my legs further apart. Fingers found their way to slick skin.

“You’re so wet already. Do you want me?” The betrayal of my body proved I did, but the question felt deeper. I could only nod, and the answer awarded me a thick digit thrusting forward. I sighed in pleasure, my thighs coming together to hold him in place. His free hand pushed them apart and the cool ocean air whirled between my legs. I moaned.

“Feel the air? You like that, don’t you?” I couldn’t speak. “Even the air wants to taste you.” The thought left me breathless, feeling light and one with nature. Sometimes, I felt as if I was part of the island, and this was one of those moments. He added another finger, and my thoughts muddled. It was only the soft wind, his warm skin, and the slickness between my thighs. My hips rolled, sucking him into me, clenching as he twirled inside me. With the addition of his thumb on my sensitive nub, I came hard and saw stars. An animalistic groan released as if telling the island, I ruled this land. His touch made me feel like a queen.

He parted my knees with his own slipping between mine, and my languid body panicked for a second.

“One more,” he whispered, lowering his head, and his mouth covered sensitive skin already wet and ready. He sucked at tender folds, twirled his tongue through my slit and parted me in a way I’d never been touched before. My fingers combed through his hair as my head fell back on his pillow. My body was no longer my own, but his to do as he pleased. My hips curled and my thighs fell further open. One of his hands slipped under my knee, holding me spread for his pleasure. He lapped at my core, making soft noises, as my body tremored, another quake rising, ready to break. I screamed at the release, lifting my head and pressing hands into his hair. His tongue didn’t stop until I cried out that I couldn’t take any more. He flattened it for a final lap and then kissed my inner thigh. The removal of his head brought cool air swirling up my legs, and my center pulsed again. Death by orgasm became a sudden fear.

“I want you so much, Mouse,” he said to my open core, and I clenched with the thought. His fingers traced lazy circles around my clit, building a slow tension, and my lower body reacted as if it wanted to reach for him and draw him in. “It’s building again, isn’t it?” He marveled at where his fingers touched me, and blew at my tender skin, adding heat to the cool sensation of the natural breeze. My head rolled on the pillow but I had no words.

Without missing a beat, he pushed down his own shorts, never releasing the finger touching me. He crawled between my thighs, gripping the sharp length of him between his hand, and holding his head at my entrance, slipping it up and down.

“Let me in,” he whispered, but I didn’t reply. He looked up at me, focused on my eyes. He must have seen something missing, something he didn’t like, because instead, he slipped over my legs to rest at my side. I wasn’t ready for more than this, and without realizing I had tensed, I relaxed. He returned his finger to his previous attention, and my hand hesitated to touch him. I’d gripped him before, allowing him to lead me in stroking him, but this time I wanted to explore. My fingers tickled up the stiff shaft, rising and dipping with each ripple along the taut skin. The smoothness of his head seeped with liquid, and I spread it over him, using it to moisten the tip and cover my palm. I cupped his heavy sac, squeezing them in my hand before encircling the heavy length of him again. In a slow jerking motion, I worked over him while he circled my core and the wind licked my lower lips. I came once again with a soft cry and squeezed him harder.

“Like that, baby,” he muttered, releasing my body to lay back and let me control his. I shifted hands, tipping up on an elbow and watched as I stroked him. It wasn’t fast enough. It wasn’t hard enough, and my body hummed for command. I knelt and straddled his thigh, lowering my lips to kiss the tip.

“Fuck, Mouse,” he mumbled, a string of additional curses and pleas followed as his hand lazily combed through my loosening hair. My lips opened, and I slid down the length of him, letting my tongue lap over those tight ridges before drawing him deeper. I sucked him to the back of my throat and then worked my way back up to the tip.

“Again,” he hissed, and his leg shook between my knees. I pressed my wet core over his thick thigh and lay across him, my breasts straddling him as well. My mouth swallowed him, and I sucked at the thickness until he cried out, pulsing at the back of my throat. I released him slowly, my tongue lingering as it drifted upward until he called out with a chuckle, “Enough.”

Instantly, his arms circled me, and he dragged me level with him on his bed. His body lay half over mine, his face in my neck, his breath tickling. I felt his heart racing over my arm, and my free hand reached for his hair. Combing upward through the soft locks, I massaged at his skull.

“Don’t ever leave me, Mouse,” he muttered, his voice lazy and satisfied. The comment gave me thought—ten months remaining might not be enough time.

27

Day 67 – Tack

I woke with her under me, shocked that we hadn’t shifted in our sleep. She amazed me. I didn’t feel her forgiveness, but I felt her letting me in. Slowly. Carefully. Deeply. I was getting under her skin as much as she was getting beneath mine.