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He doesn’t answer, her siren’s call does.
“Malakai,” she laments, unaware that I’m right goddamn here.
I stagger to my feet, gripping the waistband of my jeans with one hand, still clutching my painfully erect cock with the other. Stumbling across the sand, half crazed with lust, my bare toes reach the water’s edge. The sudden cold pulls me up sharply.
Stop!
Goddamn it, fucking stop!
I press my eyes shut, breathing shallowly whilst my whole body vibrates with need for her. A whole damn year has passed, a whole year where I’d convinced myself I could live halfway across the world from her. I’d believed that Connie’s text messages were enough of a balm to my wretched soul.
But one look at her naked backside, the curve of her waist, the tips of her hair pulled in the current and the hypnotic thrusting of her hips makes me lose my goddamn mind. I may as well be a fucking lifeboat being pulled by a mindless current with no hope of ever being rescued.
My arm is around Connie’s waist, my jeans pushed down to mid-thigh before she even has a chance to fully turn and face the intruder of her most private moment.
“Don’t move. Don’t fucking move, Connie,” I growl, pressing the length of me against her. My cock is thick and heavy against her lower back, and like the bastard that I am, I bend my knees so that I can rub my dick along the crack of her peachy arse, revelling in the friction. Losing my sanity one hip thrust at a time.
“Motherfucker,” I grind out, my eyes rolling in the back of my head as my jaw goes slack.
“Malakai…”
Her breath hitches. The tightness in her voice and the tautness of her stomach muscles trembling beneath my touch. She smells of the damn ocean, of the sunrise, of every single thing that is free and wild. Maybe it’s me who’s wild, because like the animal I am, I sink my teeth into the soft flesh of her arched neck, my tongue lapping at her pulse that beats uncontrollably there.
She jerks beneath me, then lets out a whimper as I lick and kiss the pain away. “This means nothing,” I mutter into her neck as my hand slides lower and my lips drag across her silky skin.
“Nothing,” she repeats, her voice catching as my fingers find their way to her pussy and slip between her folds. Gone is the triangle of hair covering her mound. She’s bare.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
A groan rumbles up my chest as my balls tighten. A tingling sensation builds in the base of my spine, matching the blood rushing through my already engorged dick.
“Did you do this for me?” I ask.
She whimpers, her head falling back against my shoulder as I suck and lick at her neck, her jaw, her ear, every inch of skin I can reach. I want to lick her pretty cunt.
“Malakai, please,” she begs, turning her head to mine, her lips brush against my mouth and I grasp her tit, squeezing roughly. She cries out against my stubborn lips and I crack open a little. My fucking soul keening for hers. I don’t mean to grope her this way, but if I kiss her, I will lose all fucking control. I’m hanging on by a very frayed thread. It’s been unfurling since the day I left her sleeping in post-orgasmic bliss a year ago.
“Malakai, please don’t do this if you plan on walking away again,” she utters, her pain and desire lacerating my flesh. In response, I roll her clit beneath the pad of my finger, yanking her undulating hips back against me so that I can rub my dick between her pillowy arse cheeks once more.
“I fucking hate you,” I grind out, loving her with my hands and my lips and my dick. My touch tells a very different story. A story that has no right to exist in my world. This is a fantasy. One I can’t seem to get enough of.
“I hate you too,” she responds, her voice cracking whilst the fluttering beat of her pulse betrays her true feelings. “I hate you so much, Malakai. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.” She’s sobbing now, her tears rolling down her cheeks as I slide my finger inside her wet heat, crooking my finger in a way that makes her sobs catch in her throat and a cry rip out of her chest. Her cunt squeezes around my fingers as her orgasm builds, punishing me with its grasp. Reminding me of the power she holds over me.
This is wrong in every way. I’m bringing her to orgasm, rubbing my engorged cock along the crease of her arse because I can’t stay the fuck away. She’s an addiction that no amount of time, nor distance, can satiate. She turns her head to the side, her eyelids lowered in bliss. I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her sweet, plump lips, but force myself to graze my mouth over her shoulder instead.
“Malakai,” she sobs, her internal walls squeezing tight as an orgasm rips through her and her body shudders violently.
Behind her, my cock jerks with such force that my legs almost buckle as I spill my seed all over her lower back, marking her skin with my salty cum as she marks my fingers with her wet, wet heat.
We stand like that for long minutes, neither of us daring to move as reality filters back in with the sunrise. I’m the first to let go, my hands reaching for the waistband of my jeans as I tug them up and tuck my still erect cock away. I know what it wants, and if I take her now I might not find the strength to be the man I need to be to keep her safe. Reluctantly I move back, watching as her shoulders shake with silent sobs. I’ve hurt her. Not physically, no, but emotionally. I’ve hurt her with my indecision, with my mixed messages, crude emotions and year long absence. She takes a step further into the water, but I can’t let her go just yet.
“Wait…”
Sinking to my knees, the waves lifting to my mid-chest, I cup some water in my hands and pour it over my seed that hangs in stringy ropes over her lower back and arse. She doesn’t move, she doesn’t attempt to turn around, but she doesn’t stop me either. Connie allows me to wash every last bit of me off her skin. It seems fitting somehow. Standing I reach for her, my fingers getting as far as her long tresses but no further as she moves away.
“Connie…” I begin, my voice low, shaky. What can I say? I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I came back. I’m sorry I can’t stay away. I’m sorry I’m fucking with your head. What can I possibly say to ease her agony? Nothing. There’s nothing I can do or say to make this right. We can’t be together.
“What, Malakai?” she asks, her voice tight with pain.
“This…” I swallow hard.Fucking do it, arsehole.Sever the connection once and for all.“This meantnothing.”
Those three cold words burn my throat, tearing at my soul as they pour from my mouth like hot coals, scarring me from the inside out.It meant everything,but I bury that truth deep inside the darkest recesses of myself, forcing myself to believe each and every word.
“Ihateyou,” she whispers, and this time I truly believe she does.
Connie sinks her body beneath the water, then pushes off her feet carving through the surface, her hate rippling over me with the waves she makes in her haste to get away.
