My thighs are gripped by a set of strong hands. He squeezes me just under the cheeks of my ass before drawing them up my back, letting the cover-up roll up to my shoulder blades. My skin shivers at the onslaught of cool air and his heavy hands, a contradiction that’s divine.
He finds the sides of my bikini bottoms and hooks his fingers beneath them. Slowly, he drags them down my hips and legs. I lift my knees so he can remove them completely. Glancing over my shoulder again, he’s watching me, my bottoms pressed to his face.
“I love the smell of you,” he rumbles before tossing them to the side and saddling up behind me again. He palms his cock and sets it against my opening, spreading my wetness around. “You’re so fucking wet.”
“For you.”
“For me,” he breathes. “Now look at the glass.”
I watch his face in the reflection. His eyes find mine as his cock kisses my pussy. He presses deliciously slow, taking his precious time, and I moan as my body expands, letting him enter.
“You’re so damn tight,” he groans, biting his bottom lip.
I squeeze the leather, my knuckles beginning to turn white, as my body makes room for his size. His cock inches in, my body wrapping around it like a glove. Each movement sends a new shock wave of sensation through my body, and it’s not long before I have to close my eyes and focus on the feeling.
“Does that feel good?” he asks, his hands digging into my hips.
“So good,” I mutter through clenched teeth as he hits the back of me. He draws his cock out again, as gradually as he entered. Before I expect it, he pushes into me with one quick thrust. “Ah!”
He’s out and in again before I can comprehend it. My body squeezes his cock as he glides into me.
“Is this what you wanted today when you were out parading yourself around the pool?”
“Yes!” I nearly shout, arching my back so his cock hits the spot in the back of my vagina. “This is exactly what I wanted! Fuck!”
His hands move from my hips to the tops of my cheeks and he rubs them while driving into me. “You are so beautiful. Do you know that? Seeing you like this—displayed for me like this—is every man’s dream.”
Feeling like this is every woman’s dream, but I can’t find words. I can only find the ledge from which I’m about to jump.
With each stroke, he hits the spot that drives me insane. Each thrust presses me closer to an orgasm that I’m desperate to experience.
I rock back against him, our bodies in total sync. The sound of our skin, tacky with sweat, heated with desire, smacking each other echoes through the suite.
My arms begin to shake, my legs feeling heavy. The pressure in my core starts to boil, the muscles in my pussy spasming.
“I’m going to come, Fenton,” I warn, gripping the leather so I don’t fall face-first against the bench.
His pace quickens, his cock swelling inside me. My pussy instinctively begins to milk it, clenching around his length.
“Fuck, Brynne!” he shouts, his grip moving to my shoulders.
I roll my head back, the orgasm uncoiling in my body and shooting through every cell. My moan ricochets off the glass, and as my head falls forward, I catch a glimpse of Fenton. His eyes are squeezed shut, his lips in a tight line as he, too, finds his release.
He presses into me, a small smile slinking over his lips. The look sends another ripple of orgasmic bliss through me and I shake as the high begins to even out, and then, as he slides out and back in again, settles.
As he pulls out, I nearly topple forward. He catches me around my middle and draws me back into him. I look up at his handsome face and he just grins. No words are said, but none need to be. Our smiles say it all.
One of Fenton’s t-shirts drapes my body as I come out of the master ensuite. Unlike last night, I’m not self-conscious or at all unsure about what to do. Maybe it’s that we finally had sex or maybe it’s that Fenton had to leave again as soon as we finished earlier and I got to spend some time soaking everything in.
He makes me smile. I feel desired and protected and considered. I know he’d never hurt me; I see it in his eyes. He’s kind and compassionate, and I’ve enjoyed the start to our little getaway. I’ve enjoyed him.
When I come around the corner to the living room, I stutter-step. He’s standing in the middle of the room, typing away on his phone.
“I didn’t know you were back,” I say, leaning against the doorframe.
“Just got here,” he says. He finishes whatever he’s doing and shuts his phone down before looking at me. “Did you just take a bath?”
“Mm-hmm,” I breathe, “And it was fantastic. But it would’ve been better if you were in it with me.”
“We can take another. Maybe the hot water would be good for my neck.” He cups the back of neck and winces.
“I’m taking it you had a bad day?”
“Well, you can say that. Or you can say today was a disaster. Whatever word you want to use would suffice.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ll accept your apology.”
I toss him a baffled look. “I’m sorry you had a bad day. I’m not actually apologizing. What would I be apologizing for?”
“For wearing that bikini again without me.”