“Come here,” I said, and she moved to my lap, facing me. The boat rocked gently against the bumpers, separating it from the wood of the dock. I moved the hair from both sides of her face and held her gaze.
“You don’t have to worry about any of that. I wouldn’t want you any other way. I’ve yet to find anything about you I’d ever want to change. I think you’re sexy because you don’t have a clue you are. If you’re not comfortable putting a name on this yet, we don’t have to. But I want you to know I’m not going to see anyone else. I’m a one girl at a time kind of guy. I can’t tell you what to do, but I know inside I don’t want you with anyone else either. I won’t say we’re just having fun though, because I don’t think that’s what this is.”
Her blinking became slower and her breathing shallower. My hands ran up her back caressing her warm skin, causing her to lean into me even more.
“Then what is this, Vaughn?” she whispered.
“It’s the beginning of everything.”
She leaned forward and her mouth found my neck, her wet lips kissing me. My hands found her ass and pressed her into me so she was straddling me exactly how I wanted her to.
As good as she felt on my neck, I wanted her mouth. I led her there by leaning down to meet her lips with mine, earning an appreciative moan when I did.
She rocked into me and I moved my legs together and bent her forward so she leaned back on my knees.
I wanted to see her.
She followed my lead and relaxed on my legs as I pulled the bottom of her shirt up and over her head and arms. I was lucky it hadn’t gotten as cool as I’d expected, because it was incredible being outside in the open with her like this.
Her perfect skin glowed in the dark for me. She wore a simple white bra, no lace, and without any words she leaned forward and removed it. All of her curves and valleys given to me in one movement. She shivered, not from a chill, but under my touch as my hands roamed the uncharted nakedness of her breasts.
They were full, and in the twilight I could see perfectly round nipples that stiffened under my caress. She moved against my zipper searching for something more than my touch on her chest.
I let my hand wander to her button fly and I leaned against the pillows propped up behind us as she rested against my legs, allowing me to explore her.
When there were no more buttons to work apart, there was a moment where I thought it was too much for her, her body shaking like she was nervous.
I had to know if she wanted me to go any further, before I did.
“Hannah?” I asked as I ran a hand over her center above her jeans, along the denim seam between her legs. “Do you want this?”
I selfishly applied a little pressure with my hand to her, needing to feel her, even before she agreed.
She didn’t say anything, but her hand covered mine and led me into her. Past her panties. Past a soft patch of trimmed hair to where my fingers were met with wetness and her obvious arousal.
I took my time feeling her, learning her, finding my way. When my hand reached the top of her, she bucked in my hand and leaned forward, giving me a much better angle to use.
She hugged my neck tightly as she rocked against my luckiest hand, while my runner-up hand pulled her into me.
She sat on her knees and kissed me even harder from slightly above me.
I slipped a finger into her and she released a beautiful sigh. I stopped the kiss to watch her face as I gave her a second to get used to me there.
Her mouth fell slack and her eyes danced in the moonlight as she rode my fingers.
It surprised me when her hand slipped atop mine, mingling with my fingers, feeling them go in and out of her.
I could feel her thighs begin to shake as she pushed harder against my palm and then, as she said, “Vaughn,” in the most sensual way I’d ever heard, she removed her hand to hang onto my shoulders again.
I moved my head in a way that she’d touch my cheek, and when it was close enough, I sucked one of her fingers into my mouth just as her core tightened.
The taste of her on my lips, combined with the sound of her pleasure, made my erection almost painful.
As she came down, she rested her head on my shoulder, her index finger still in my mouth. She relaxed against me and found her breath.
I leaned back, putting our full weight on the pillows, and held her. And my hand, which was still inside her jeans, stroked her sensitive skin.
Something powerful, and almost possessive, swelled inside of me as we lay there.
Soon she was lazily kissing my neck.
Was it possible she wanted more? Because I was perfectly happy giving it to her. As many times as she liked.
I wanted to come more than just about anything, but not necessarily more than I wanted her to again.
“I liked that,” I told her, the words almost getting caught low in my throat.
“I really liked that,” she said dreamily. “A lot.”
That, my friends, is what victory feels like.