She traced her tongue along my lips and moaned. Breathing heavily she purred, “Please.”
I urged her closer. She was so wet I slid inside her with unabashed ease. She closed her eyes, but I had a strange need to see her while I fucked her. I lifted her chin. “Look at me.”
We stared into the depths of each other’s eyes as I slowly moved in and back out so I could feel the thrill again. Each time I thrust in only felt better than the last. I could see in her eyes how much she was enjoying it and I was fucking loving it, too. Each plunge brought me closer to the brink. I tried to control myself but she was doing crazy things to me. When I could see she was close I said, “Come with me.”
She dug her nails into my back and wrapped her legs tighter around my waist. The sensation of filling her so deeply was unreal. She called out my name over and over and through gritted teeth I did the same. Once my orgasm subsided, I looked at myself in the mirror and was struck by a huge wave of guilt. Despite it, I closed my lids and felt my cock swell. It wasn’t anywhere near done and neither was I.
“Hey, surfer boy.” She pulled my attention back toward her. “Can we do that again?”
“I plan to.” I pulled away and circled her like she was my prey. “Put your heels back on and show me again how you walked on the beach in the Riviera.”
Not sure what came over me, I wanted her do as I ordered—it made my heart beat faster and adrenaline flooded me. When she moved passed me, I pulled her flush to my chest. I traced my fingers along the silky fabric covering her clit and sucked on one of her nipples. Her moans of pleasure made my dick ache but also made me feel like I was going to be able to do this all night long. I turned her around. “Watch us,” I told her, as I spread her legs and plunged into her from behind as we both looked on in the mirror.
Neither of us came but we weren’t done with each other when I stopped. Without a word, I picked her up and moved her to the bedroom. We fell to the mattress where I hovered above her and sucked her tits hard. I inserted two fingers inside her. I moved them in and out, faster and faster. She moaned. Next I used my tongue to plunge in and out of her *. She cried out in pleasure. I fucked her every way I could with a stamina I never knew I had. We fucked in ways I never had before. She squeezed her breasts together and I slipped my cock in between them. I thrust in and out over and over. It felt fucking amazing. I yelled and grunted and groaned and when I finally came, I came hard. My whole body trembled.
The last thing I remembered before passing out was grabbing her hips and moving her as she rode me. I had one hand on her * while the other hand cupped her full breast. She was screaming my name like a prayer as I massaged her clit and tugged her hard nipples in unison.
When she started yelling, “That’s it, surfer boy, that’s it! Oh God, oh God, that feels so good!” I came deep and hard inside her.
When I woke up she was gone and my shirt blanketed my nakedness. The devil in me mourned her absence. But the larger part of me was relieved. The forbidden fruit was already bitten and I knew I needed to stay far away. One night with her had fulfilled every fantasy I ever had but I couldn’t risk my future on a fantasy.
Chapter 8
Counting Stars
The wedding festivities are in full swing when I arrive at the Montage a little late. I missed the announcements—too bad for me. I duck into the bathroom and loop my tie around my neck, thinking I don’t look all that bad—new tan suit, blue shirt. Except I wince at the sight of the tie in the reflection. Fuck the tie. I toss it in the trash and head to the bar to grab a quick drink before I go in search of the happy couple.
Once I throw back a quick one, I enter the grand ballroom and scope out the subtle signs of wealth and luxury. There are no tapestries, no grand, ornate, golden gilded mirrors, or fringed pieces of furniture that scream money. Instead S’belle did a great job of giving the couple what they wanted. Looking around I definitely feel like I’m in Nantucket—which was their wish. The elegant simplicity inherent in the wooden floors beneath the simple glass-cut chandelier at the center of the room only helps bring the blues and whites to life. Circular tables with toile tablecloths surround the dance floor with hydrangeas filling their centers in clear glass vases. Small candles are floating in water to illuminate the elegance of the fine table settings. And wicker chargers set the place setting for every guest. It’s very Ralph Lauren. Very Nantucket.
I spot the bride and groom immediately. Sloan lifts one hand in a vague gesture of hello. As I approach, her gaze meets mine and I try to ignore the familiarity in her greeting.
“Miss Bennett, how nice to see you again.” I take her hand and kiss it.