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“Really?”I laugh.
“Yes,” he replies, still massaging my foot. “For one you wouldn’t have just this thin lace covering your breasts. Your nipples are visible, tempting… it’s an explicit invitation to suck on them.”
As he speaks, my nipples tighten, poking through the lace. I press my thighs together, a wave of arousal settling between my legs.
“And your thighs,” he continues, his hands drifting from the magic they’re working on my toes, to trail their way up to my calves, and then my thighs.
“What about them?” I whisper.
“They’re barely covered, just a little lace. Who can look at them without thinking about sex?” He pushes my legs apart and palms me through the lacy crotch of my lingerie. I’m already soaking wet, and now he knows.
“You’re not reading anymore,” he points out smugly.
I breathe, and turn my face to the screen of my device, my eyes unseeing. I steal a glance at him and he meets my gaze, his face straight as he hooks a finger into the crotch of my panties and shifts them to the side.
I’m already panting softly, my lips parted in anticipation. I’m totally exposed to him, and I can almost feel the heat from his lips just a few inches from my sex.
“You can’t stop reading now,” he teases. “Think of those evil magicians.”
The only evil magician is him. I bite my lip, my stomach fluttering as desire pools between my legs, but I manage to give him a challenging glare and turn my eyes back to my device. Now I definitely can’t see a single word on the screen, and I’m not trying to. My whole body is waiting, and when Landon’s lips touch me, it takes everything for my hands to keep holding the device.
He licks me leisurely and I know he’s enjoying himself. His tongue strokes my inner lips, making me tremble, then he rims my cleft, licking, and stroking, before pushing inside me. I bite down my moan, holding it back until his tongue travels back up to my clit, fluttering over the sensitive nerves. I cry out and toss the e-reader, leaving my fingers free to twist in Landon’s hair.
He goes on and on, untiring, until my body is weak and shuddering, almost passed out from pleasure. He uses his fingers as well as his tongue, pushing them inside me, teasing all my sensitive spots, until I’m just a mass of nerves crying out in unbearable pleasure.
I come over and over until I’m begging him to stop. When he finally raises his head, he’s grinning, and I can hardly move. My legs are wobbling, my whole body throbbing, my voice hoarse from screaming in exquisite pleasure.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he suggests, as if he didn’t just give me multiple orgasms. “We can’t leave without at least exploring the beach.”
HE’S right about the beach. It’s beautiful, the sand is white, clean, and eager to deliver a treasure of different types of shells. The sound of the ocean is soothing, and the cry of seagulls lends an interesting oddity to the atmosphere. We walk barefoot at the edge of the surf, reveling in our solitude, taking selfies with the sunset in the background, and enjoying the feel of sand against our soles.
“It’s so beautiful,” I tell Landon, watching the waves traveling up to the shore.
“You’re beautiful,” he tells me.
I sigh. He somehow expects women not to fall in love with him and demand commitment when he says stuff like that to them?
“What’s on your mind?” he asks, correctly gauging the shift in my mood.
“Just building up my arsenal for resisting your charms,” I say with a shrug.
He looks hurt. “My charms are irresistible.”
Laughing despite myself, I push his chest lightly. “You’re not very humble.”
“No,” he grins. “I have you beside me. I have every right to strut like a peacock.”
I roll my eyes, and he pulls me towards him and places a soft kiss on my forehead.
We walk back to the house to eat the lunch that’s delivered by the caretaker, then we make love on the porch swing. It rocks with our movements, its gentle swing lulling me to sleep after.
When I wake up, the sun is setting over the horizon, casting a vibrant deep-orange glow over the water and the sky. It’s breathtaking, and Landon allows me to admire it for a while before letting me know it’s time to leave.
A hired driver is already on his way to take us to the airport, where Landon’s plane is waiting. So we get ready, silently gathering our things. It’s almost as if we’re both feeling the same thing, an unspoken reluctance to go back to the city, back to our lives, leaving the idyll of our weekend behind.
“WHERE are you?”The text arrives just as I get into the car waiting for Landon when we arrive in New York. It’s from Dylan, my baby brother, and it’s accompanied by an angry emoji.
“What’s up?”I type in reply, pleased and surprised. Dylan isn’t the best communicator in the world. He buries himself in his video games and his studies and mostly resists our attempts to dig him out.
