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I lean up as much as I can, indicating I want to kiss him. He drops over me on the bed and opens his mouth slightly for my tongue to enter. I probe gently, running my hands down his back. He is cold to the touch, but he is a vampire, after all.
Even as we kiss, he brings a finger to run across the lips of my pussy, making me cry out against his mouth. After a few more minutes of playing with me, he positions himself to slide inside.
I moan as he fills me, enjoying the sensation in the most incredible way. If my mind was more coherent right now, I’d probably be amazed that only a few hours ago, I worried that he might never talk to me again, and now we’re making love.
But I’m too blissed out to think about anything that deep. I can only feel my muscles melting into the bed as my impending climax grows.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
“Yes, oh, my God,” I moan.
In that moment, I experience Emile not as just a crush or romantic possibility, but as a person I care deeply about. Our bodies are connected, and there’s a bond here that transcends everything else I’ve felt up till now. As strong as that was, this defies expectation or reality.
My toes curl and the back of my neck heats up as my orgasm builds. He thrusts into me until the sensation spills over. I cry out, squeezing his cock with the force of my orgasm. He pulls out at the last second, stroking himself a few final times before spraying his warm cum over my stomach.
After we both finish, he starts to move away. I grab his hand as if to stop him, but he just winks and presses a light kiss on my forehead.
“I’m just getting a towel to clean you off with,” he promises. He rummages around in a cabinet, returning with the hand towel as promised. It’s touching to watch as he gently wipes my stomach clean.
He tosses it aside and cuddles up next to me in the small bed. It’s barely big enough for the two of us, and we’re forced to touch in more spots than we’re not, but I don’t mind. He pulls a comforter over us, and I relax into his arms.
“I could get used to this,” Emile says, turning toward me and planting a kiss on my shoulder.
“You better,” I say.
The boat lists back and forth, tied to the dock. The sound of the sucking water in the undercarriage mimics the rhythm of our collective heartbeats, and I feel more at home in this bed I never saw until an hour ago than I ever did anywhere else.
29
EMILE
The air is sweltering, a gentle but persistent heat that seems to burn into every pore. An occasional cloud offers a passing respite from the unforgiving glare of the sun. It would be unbearable, apart from the shade, the swirling sea gusts, and, of course, the company.
Clarissa – sorry, Shauna, actually – is testing the rigging on the topsail right now. Her cut-off shirt exposes her trim, tight stomach, and her shorts stretch delightfully over her long legs. Needless to say, since we’ve departed together from the Floridian shores, I’ve been enjoying the view immensely.
Jamaica is nice also, or at least the sandbar where we’ve parked is decent. The sun is relentless, so we try to do most of our sailing at night when we can both breathe easier. Our teamwork is practically flawless now, and I can’t help but feel a little smug as I send a postcard off to Marcel informing him of our latest destination.
“Come get these drinks!” I call out, balancing on the lower deck steps. Shauna turns around in surprise, spinning over to the open hatch immediately.
“Hey! Making drinks? I have the best boyfriend,” she says, reaching down to grasp at me. It’s been a month and a fortnight since we left Florida together, and we haven’t run out of excuses to touch each other yet.
“I wanted to double-check our heading before we set sail again,” I tell as she grabs a glass. This new Clarissa comes with a new-found confidence, and she wears it well. “Figured we’d take a break to use up some of that fresh mint you picked up two ports ago, then I could get to work.”
“Waste not, want not. Salut,” she toasts, tipping our glasses together. Taking an obligatory sip, I watch her lips as she takes a long drink “Very nice mojito, babe. I’m impressed.”
I shrug casually, acting like it’s no big deal. Secretly, I enjoy the compliment way more than I should for such a simple thing. Anything that makes her happy, makes me happy.
Living in such close quarters as we have been on the boat has given us plenty of time to really get to know one another, without any secrets or reservations between us. These past several weeks have been incredible. Even just simply being with Shauna has been beyond my expectations.
“Drinks are easy enough to handle, especially for someone who has lived on a primarily liquid diet before.” The joke draws a laugh from her, and we both head up to the bow. The summer heat is still intense this close to the equator, but it has abated enough for me to enjoy the setting sun as I work my way around the boat preparing for our departure.
“I managed to snag some clams today while I was checking the hull. How about oysters for dinner?” she suggests while I work, and I smile indulgently as I notice the sun playing over her golden brown skin.
“Just don’t burn the boat down,” I tease. “I know you’re a good chef, but it’s harder to cook on the water.”
“Har-har,” she quips back with no bite in her tone. “If you aren’t careful, I won’t cook anything for you anymore. Then what will you do?”
Shauna shoots me a playfully defiant look. The next thing I know, I sweep her into my arms. Her drink sloshes about, but I pull her close anyway and breathe in her ear.
