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It’s hard to keep my heart in line, though, because he’s also giving me so much. Or at least trying to. This trip, this jaw-dropping resort, he’s doing it all for me. This man’s consideration alone could bring me to my knees. His warm lips suck on my neck, right where my blood pulses. He palms my breast over my dress, and the pad of this thumb brushes over the material, and I swear blood pumps to my eager nipple. I want skin on skin, the heat of his mouth, his tongue.
His crisp, clean scent and heat surround me, making my knees go weak. He backs me up to the bed, and my core clenches. My palms flatten against the hard, muscular planes of his chest. Familiar territory I have missed. I tug on his shirt, and my fingers dip below, onto his hot, bare skin. He groans and lifts his arms to pull the offending material over his head. My lips taste the skin along his clavicle as he palms my ass, bring me hard up against him.
With lightning-fast speed, need surges. I want him now, in me, stretching me, filling me. His mouth claims mine, possessive and demanding. The hot touch of his fingers on the bare skin of my thigh, then the curve of my butt, sets me off. I suck in air, breaking the kiss and fumbling with the button on his pants.
“Do you want me?” His chest rises and falls rapidly in time with his breathing. Those dark eyes question, but he’s got to know the answer.
“You know I do.”
“Show me.” His tongue licks the seam of his glistening lips.
Mesmerized, I stand still as he disrobes me. His fingers brush up my thigh and over my sex, dipping inside, teasing.
“Damn, Sunny, it looks like you do want me. But I want to see. Crawl back up onto that bed. Show me. Show me exactly what you want me to do to you.”
The overhead fan whips cool air over my skin. Skin alight with desire. So much need that I step right on out of my comfort zone and back up onto the bed, resting on the stacked pillows, gaze locked on his inferno.
I spread my thighs and drag my finger through my wet slit. His throat contorts as he swallows, watching my every movement.
“I want you here.”
“And what do you want?” His pants drop to the ground, and his thick, hard erection protrudes. He grips the base and slowly strokes. “Do you want this? Or do you want my tongue?”
I suck my wet finger in my mouth, gaze locked on his cock. “Oh, I want your tongue. But first, I need you.”
“Tell me.”
The mattress dips as he climbs onto the bed, one knee at a time, his hand never missing a beat, stroking up and down.
He wants to push me out of my comfort zone. He wants dirty talk. And he’s done so much for me, he’s giving me so much, I can do this for him. My gaze settlers on the wetness on his velvety tip, and my throat tightens.
“I want to lick that precum. Swirl my tongue around your tip.” My gaze flicks up to meet his, and all the while he strokes. “I want to fuck you with my mouth.” I toy with my heavy, sensitive breasts. “But I don’t want you to come. Because I want you to fuck me.” I slip a finger inside, then brush the pad of my finger over my clit, timing it to his strokes. “Hard. Over me. From behind. I want to hear the sound of your skin slapping against me. And I want to ride you, over and over again.”
“Fuck, Sunny.” His voice cracks. The pace of his strokes picks up.
And, fuck, I want him so badly. “Please.” It’s a plea. Every atom in my body vibrates with need.
And then he’s there, over me, pushing inside, stretching me.
“Fuck, you feel good.” He breathes it out like it’s a prayer.
I’m so worked up, I’m close within mere strokes. My toes curl. I lift my knees and wrap my legs around him. He hovers over me, and his hips grind into me, rubbing me just the way I like, and I whimper and squirm and make all the noises. I hold on tight as my body releases and he slows. His head drops to my shoulder.
“I’ve missed you.” It’s an admission. The kind we don’t typically make to each other.
I pull his lips to mine and kiss him. He’s still inside me, hard, but his movements are slow and purposeful. We move as one, finding a rhythm. Our singular path to nirvana.
He flips us, maneuvering me so I’m on top. And I take him, just the way I want him. Driving down on him, then leaning forward, letting my legs straighten beside him. He guides my hips. Our sweat smooths the friction. My breasts flatten against his hard chest. His pants fill my ears. And then my core clenches. A blinding orgasm rips through me. His head tilts back. And I feel him, pulsing deep inside me. His expression is one of divine ecstasy. Nirvana.
I cling to him as he continues pulsing, filling me. My head falls to his shoulder, and his arms wrap around my back, holding me in place.
Outside, the sky shines blue. The drapes are wide open. The Caribbean sea glistens in the distance, and yet I don’t want to leave this bed.
Wetness warms my thighs, and with great reluctance, I shift. He slips out of me, but his hold on me tightens. With a groan, he pushes up off the mattress, adjusts several pillows, and positions us against them. Then he tugs at a light coverlet on the end of the bed and spreads it over our legs, up to our hips.
“You don’t want to go explore?” I ask, curling against him.
“As I recall, we still have things you want to do.”
