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“Mended enough for what you have in mind.”
“How do you know what I have in mind?”
“Because I know you, Anna. I know what you’re thinking right now.”
“What am I thinking, smart guy?”
“That you’re only wearing a towel and you want to jump onto my lap.” He pushes his chair backwards. It sinks into the sand under the blanket and he falls off, landing on his back.
I resist laughing. “Smooth,” I tell him, walking over, standing astride him. “Very smooth.”
He whips the towel away, leaving me naked on top of him. He grabs my ankles, yanking me downward. “Not the only one who can lose balance around here,” he says as I land on his chest. He shifts me into place until I’m sitting above his face. I’m about to protest when his tongue sticks out and flicks over my pussy.
I don’t think about complaining any more. Instead, I let out a gasp of delight as his tongue plunges straight into me. “I’ve missed this taste,” he says a moment later.
“You went to Italy without me,” I reply, looking down at him. “Has to be some punishment for that.”
“I came here to recover,” he replies with a growl, gripping me by the hips, shifting me slightly in place.
“I don’t think this is helping your recovery.”
“I do.” His tongue slides over my clit. I rock in place, moving above his face, grinding down on him, feeling my body heating up.
I can’t talk anymore. I’m lost in the moment. I run my hands through his hair as I grind faster onto his tongue, using his face to bring me toward a climax.
My body tenses up as I get close. It’s not just the sensation that does it for me. It’s being here with him. Our private beach. Our private cave. No one here but the two of us. Safe and sound.
He’s alive and well. The thought is enough to make me beam until my face aches.
He’s spent the last couple of months recuperating. He wanted me to join him out here, but I didn’t want to distract him. I knew if I came out, he would do something like this too soon, and I hated the idea of him ripping his stitches open again.
So I waited back at his place back in the States. Got sketching some ideas for my first official Cally cartoon. The Gazette has offered me a trial run to gauge reader reaction. They sent out my sketches to their test audiences. Feedback was good enough to give me a chance on my own merit. I can live with that.
I sketched and waited until he sent word that I was to come at once or he’d have me dragged out here kicking and screaming.
Eva got the jet arranged. I went to say goodbye to his family’s grave. I left the flowers there like he asked me to. Then I got on the plane and came out here.
I’m glad I did. I’ve missed him terribly. It’s so good to see him again. Even better to be this close to an orgasm, thanks to him.
“You’re going to make me come,” I say as his tongue slips into me again.
“Do it,” he snarls, licking my clit faster. “Come for me.”
I drive my hips against his face, feeling it approaching. A few seconds later, it hits, bursting out like a torrential rain of pleasure, spreading over my body, making my limbs shake uncontrollably.
He continues to kiss around my pussy, slowing his movements to a stop.
He pushes my hips down his body. I know what he’s telling me to do, even without any words. I reach down and undo his zipper. “Mr. Donatello,” I say as I reach inside. “Is that a gun in there, or are you just pleased to see me?”
Thirty-Eight
Marco
I’m not in the mood for jokes. She’s been away too long. I pull her down and kiss her, squeezing her ass at the same time. She’s got more curves since the pregnancy came along. I love them as much as I love her.
I want to tell her how much I missed her, but that can wait. For now, I need to be inside her. I shift my hips, reaching down and taking hold of my shaft, pushing it toward her waiting pussy.
She presses back against me, sliding onto my length, her breathing changing as she does so.
