“If I could fuck you every minute of every day, I would.”
“Hmmm,” I hummed, looking out to sea and the horizon; we were in paradise and in James’ arms I was in heaven. “I feel the same.”
“Do you?” he asked, spinning me around so that we were face to face. “So if I tossed you on that deck chair over there and had my way with you for the rest of the afternoon, you wouldn’t complain?” His eyes glimmered with mischief, while his mouth curled up into a crafty grin.
“Your butt cheeks might get a little burned,” I teased.
He gripped me by the elbows and hauled me across the deck to the waiting lounge chair, tossing me down onto the fabric. I’d chosen to wear a skirt, so there was no stripping needed, and before I could blink, he was on his belly and pushing the hem of my skirt up my waist while moving my bathing-suit bottoms to the side.
“I love that you shave,” he said, wasting no time and flicking out his tongue against my clit. My whole body shook. “Nothing between me and your sweet pink pussy, ever.” And then he dove in, lips, tongue and fingers, the whole shebang. Swirling and twisting, plunging and plundering, until I was a mewling, sopping wet mess, and my cheeks were beginning to get warm and probably pink from the ruthless sun.
“I … I don’t know about all day there, stud,” I said, already out of breath. “We might have to take things to the shade for a bit.” I shamelessly pushed my hips up into his face, letting his nose graze my clit, while his tongue fucked me, hard and swift. A curious finger made its way further beneath me, and he pushed, demanding I give him refuge. I arched my back to grant him access, and he slipped inside. I was so wet, so saturated with need that he had zero problems. We rarely used lube these days; we just didn’t need it.
He hummed against my cleft, sending a jolt of pleasure careening through me.
“One quick orgasm for me, baby, and then I’ll save you from the sun and go fuck you down below in our bed.”
“You’re relentless,” I sighed, my hands weaving their way into his hair and gently pulling on his scalp.
“Obsessed is a better word.” And then he closed his lips around my clit, pushed two fingers inside my pussy and started to scissor.
I was close, so damn close. Writhing on the deck chair, with burned cheeks and aching nipples, under the hot tropical sun, close.
“I can feel it, Emma. Let go, baby. You’re right there,” he hummed again, his buzzing lips sending another zing of need through my body.
I fished my hand into the top of my tank top and started tweaking a needy nipple, pulling and pinching, until that sweet bite of pain threw me over the edge of the cliff and I came hard into his unyielding and devoted mouth. Bowing my back against the chair, I pulled hard on his hair, burying his face in my pussy as the pleasure speared through me.