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These legs barely cooperate when I haul myself to the bathroom to pee—and stumble right back to bed.
I lie on my side and stare out at the sea with the goofiest smile. Etienne made me come three times last night. This morning. Whenever.
I watch the waves lap the beach as the tide comes in, and try to remember the last time I came three times in one night. Never. That’s never happened.
He took me over and over again, and yet the more he took, the more I had to give. This morning, I’m happily, pleasantly drained.
Etienne did precisely what I had asked; he’d fucked me with his tongue. With vigor, again and again.
I reach for my phone to see what time it is, but it falls off the nightstand, bounces off the step and skids across the room. Dammit.
The clatter has Etienne jerking awake.
“What is it? Are you okay?”
I scramble for my phone, but he circles his arms around my waist and pulls me back against him. “Ugh, Etienne!”
“First, tell me if you’re hurt. I heard a noise.”
I laugh and push against his massive forearm that circles my waist. “I’m fine. I dropped my phone, and I want to see what time it is. I want to see if it’s time to get up.”
He laughs his evil laugh and says, “It’s time to get up when I say it’s time to get up.”
“That wasn’t the deal!” I say, giving up the struggle. “You said noon!”
He peeks over me and peers out the window, squinting. “It’s not noon yet.”
“How do you know?”
“Look how dark and gray the sky is,” he says. “It’s barely seven a.m.”
“I just want to check…”
There is a flash of light, then thunder drowns out my words. The next moment, the skies open up and rain begins to pound the beach. When I flinch at the lighting and thunder, Etienne rests a reassuring hand on my hip.
“See that? Nowhere to go anyway. Might as well stay in bed.”
I pout. “I wanted to hike today.”
“Do you ever just do nothing?
“Hey, I spent all afternoon reading on the beach yesterday.”
“Reading is an activity.”
“Fine, then. I suppose I don’t ever do simply nothing.”
He murmurs against my throat, sending tingles everywhere. “This is why you ended up with me. Learn from the expert of doing nothing.”
I would laugh at his words, except that his mouth does evil things to my still-sensitive parts. Then, he’s not only murmuring but spoiling me with licking kisses up and down my throat, working his way to the nape of my neck.
Lightning flashes again, followed closely by a loud crack of thunder. I jump, and Etienne turns me over to face him.
I wait for him to tease me for being skittish at the weather, but he doesn’t. He only presses his lovely mouth to mine in a slow, lazy, wet kiss that draws my entire focus to him.
It’s funny that whenever he’s exploring my body, he keeps dragging his hand over my stomach and growling. He did it several times last night, a few times in his sleep, I’m fairly certain. And again right now. Ordinarily, I would shoo anyone’s hands away from that region. I don’t like to be tickled and I don’t like for intimate partners to spend too long on my stomach.
I don’t know what’s different about Etienne that I don’t reflexively punch him in the sternum for touching me there. Is it the magic of being married?
