Page 25 of Return to the Island

“She even has a hole in her, where I can make love to her.” His wrist twisted, forcing his fingers deeper, rougher, and I sat forward with the pressure. Juices trickled from my core, and the slick sound of him entering me increased. My backside pressed against the thick length of him, rigid between the crack of my ass.

“Is that…” I gasped again. It couldn’t be, but as we drew near, it became even clearer.

We were returning to the island. Our island.

“She wants to hear you. Tell her,” he demanded, his thumb flicking over the pearl outside my entrance, that precious, sensitive fold of skin. He circled with his thumb as his fingers slipped inside me.

“The captain will hear,” I whispered, my fingernails digging into the skin above his kneecaps, my hips working over his length, and my center fucking his fingers.

“Tell her,” he snapped.

“I’m coming,” I gasped, my voice catching in the wind as I felt the orgasm barreling up my legs, racing for my thighs.

“Louder,” he demanded. “So close, baby. Let her know.”

With that, the orgasm detonated at my center. Spots danced before my eyes and more fluid seeped from me. I clamped my thighs to hold his fingers inside me as I screamed, “I’m coming!” My fingertips pressed into his thighs. I leaned forward a bit, raising my hips so I sat firmly over his lap. I rocked on his fingers, clenching my ass cheeks over him.

“We,” he snarled, and he moved my hand to squeeze him over his swim shorts. “Like that,” he growled.

“We’re coming,” I yelled as he bit my shoulder and stilled under me.

We’re coming together, I whispered to the wind.