by S. C. Daiko
I pulled in a deep breath and told him what I’d been doing.
“Not just a pretty face,” he cupped my chin and kissed me quickly on the lips.
I wanted more.
Oh, how I wanted more.
But he winced and stretched his back. “Think I’ve pulled a muscle.”
“I could try and give you a massage with the oil,” I suggested, reaching for the tin cup.
He cocked his head. “Do you know what to do?”
“Hardly rocket science.” I kneeled behind him. “Sit still.”
The oily milk needed filtering through some cloth, but we didn’t have any to spare so I’d have to manage. I poured some of the mixture into the cup of my hand. Placing my palms on his neck, I squeezed briefly, then slid my hands down. He felt solid, heavy, heat radiating from within the muscles flexing under my palms. I pressed my fingertips into them and watched his flesh give.
“Mmm,” he moaned. “That feels great.”
I carried on massaging him with the oil, alternating the pressure, then rolling my knuckles up and down.
“You know how hard I am right now?” He groaned.
“Very hard,” I pretended to refer to his back. “You must work out a lot.”
With a grunt he swiveled around. I lowered my eyes to his crotch. He was pitching a huge tent under his briefs, but I feigned indifference, pouring more oil into my hands and stroking them down his divine pecs, so firm I could trace the lines between each muscle.
“I have a gym at my condo. Perfect for relieving stress,” he smirked, taking the cup of oil from me and placing it on the sand. He kissed me slowly, teasingly, before leaning away and watching me through narrowed predator eyes.
I stared back at him, and he moved in for another kiss, deeper, hungrier. He kneaded my ass with one hand while brushing my throat with the thumb of his other hand. “Fuck, you taste good, Aly,” he breathed into my mouth.
Electricity sparked between us. He clutched my butt, pulling me to grind into his hardness, his lips hunting mine with leisurely, playful, intoxicating kisses.
His calloused fingers dragged from my neck to my tits, squeezing them while he kissed me over and over again.
He’s ruining me for any other man.
His erection digging into my stomach, he lowered his kisses to my breasts, sucking and biting them.
I mewled like a cat in heat.
He took my hand and guided it down, down, down— slipping it under his briefs to his dick.
I had no clue what to do, except touch it.
“Tug hard, babe. I won’t break.”
I managed to squeeze my fingers around him with difficulty he was so thick. Thick, long and incredibly hard — like silk over steel. His cock twitched, and he groaned again. “That’s good. Keep going.”
He bucked against me, and I slid my hand up and down. He thrust into my fist and stared into my eyes. I felt proud to be giving him so much pleasure.
“Gonna come,” he hissed.
He jerked in my grip and exploded with a grunt. His cum shot into my palm and his cock slid in the slick of his release. He grabbed the sides of my face and kissed me, passionately.
“Your turn now,” he grinned wolfishly. “We’ll go for a swim first, then I’m gonna eat out your pussy until you come so hard, I’ll have to carry you back up the sand.”
I picked up a leaf and wiped my hand clean. “You’re so naughty, Brash.”
“Ah, but you like me,” he winked, smiling wolfishly. “Go on, admit it.”
“I won’t.”
I turned away so he wouldn’t catch my lie.
I was shafted.
Well and truly fucked.
I liked Brash, aka Ben Collins; I liked him far too much.
His strong arms had become my refuge, and his gorgeous smile, my hope.
Chapter Seventy
Anaan
I drift in and out of consciousness, not fully understanding where I am or what has happened to me. I hear the voices saying I nearly died. My memory is full of holes like a fishing net. I don’t know who I am. They ask me my name, but I have no recollection.
I open my eyes and a person in a white coat shines a light into them. The brightness hurts and I close my eyes again.
Later, I’m not sure how much later, I feel a little stronger. I stare at the tube going into my hand and breathe in the scent of antiseptic.
I’m in the hospital, I realize, but I have no idea how I got here.
Chapter Seventy-One
Brash
I waded through the tepid waters of the lagoon, spear in hand, wet sand squelching between my toes. I’d become adept at moving lightning fast, impaling small fish and crab on the end of the sharpened stick. But like with several trials I’d overcome in my life, I needed to test myself with the next big challenge— ergo, getting out of here.
We’d been on the island a month already, according to my Rolex. A month of learning to survive. A month of living in such close quarters with Aly we were like roommates.
Never been in this situation with a woman other than….
Aly was so different. Sometimes she surprised me by displaying wisdom beyond her years. Like when she worked out how to twist coconut fibers into rope. Other times, her naivety disturbed the fuck out of me. I hoped to God she wasn’t developing feelings.
Feelings I did not reciprocate.
I liked her, but only because we were trapped here together.
In any other circumstances I wouldn’t have dated her, wouldn’t have spent time with her or broken my rule about never fucking a girl more than once.
Aly wasn’t my type.
Too frigging innocent.
I shook my head. I should remind her of our arrangement, tell her I’d already crossed a major red line. I’d avoided friendship with women ever since she, the girl I’d loved for years, told me her soulmate was someone else.
The last person I would have suspected of taking her from me.
I rubbed the ache in the center of my chest. My heart still panged from seeing those two together at Valentin and Emma’s wedding.
Lifting my head, I shaded my eyes with a hand and scanned the surface of the ocean lying on the other side of the reef. We’d spotted a ship on the distant horizon last week and had covered our fire with palm leaves to make a smoke signal. To no fucking avail. The vessel must have been too far away for the crew to notice. Or, if they had noticed, they can’t have been one of the boats looking for us or they’d have come to investigate.
How can we have frigging disappeared off the face of the earth in this day and age?
My own damn fault for living up to my name and not installing a tracking device in the seaplane. I creased my brow. What had happened to Anaan? He must have died. Did he have a family? Had he left a wife and kids? My stomach clenched with regret.
I’ll fucking make sure they’re provided for when we are found.
I rubbed my beard and squinted up at the sky. Endless blue with wispy white clouds which would soon fill with humidity. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck. Where the fuck was everyone? Thousands of square miles. Hundreds of uninhabited islands. Sure as hell, they wouldn’t have given up on us. They’d still be searching, wouldn’t they?
I blew out a long, slow breath. A diet of herring, crab, coconut, mango and breadfruit had become boring. Time to venture out on the small prototype raft I’d finished making yesterday. See if I could exit the lagoon to try and catch bigger fish.
Aly glanced up as I strode toward her, pear-shaped breasts as tanned as the rest of her goddess body. She only wore her panties during the daylight hours these days; a couple of weeks ago she’d made me a pair of espadrilles with her bra and some coconut cords. But the soles of my feet had grown hard as leather— not even the burning sand affected them— so I kept the shoes for when I ventured into the interior to forage for fruit, fallen coconuts and whatever else I could find. Aly’s rat phobia still prevented her from joining me. I’d manag
ed to spear one of the rodents last week, suggested cooking it, but she’d refused point-blank. Said the idea of it made her want to throw up.
She put down the rope she was braiding and dimpled at me. “You’re back early.”
I told her about my plan to test the prototype.
“Can I come with you?”
“Not until I’m sure it works. If we floundered, I’d be putting you at risk.”
Her eyes flashed. “So, it’s okay to put yourself at risk?” She huffed. “What would I do if something happened to you?” She blushed. “I mean, how would I survive?”
“I’ll be able to look after myself.” I creased my brow. “Nothing will happen to me.”
She bit at her lip, shaking her head. “You can’t know that.”
I dragged a hand through my hair. She’d backed me into a corner, and I knew it. “Why don’t we compromise?” I sighed, giving in despite myself. “We’ll take the raft out as far as the reef. I’ll go through the gap into deeper sea next time.”
She jumped to her feet, discarding the braided cords, and soon we’d launched the prototype and were paddling out toward the breakers, using coconut shells attached to branches. Once there, I dove down and tied the anchor rope to an outcrop of coral to stop us floating away.
I swam upward through shoals of tiny fish, the water pulsing around me. “Hand me my spear, babe,” I said, shaking the droplets from my hair. The sun streamed bright in my eyes, outlining the shape of Aly sitting on the raft.
Fuck, she was beautiful.
Beautiful and mine.
The thought wheeled unwanted into my head, and I metaphorically shoved it away. She wasn’t mine. Never could be.
I won’t allow that to happen.
“I’m coming in for a swim,” she said. “It’s too hot up here.”
I showed her how to make an air pocket with her fingers so she could see underwater. She swam close to the surface while I ventured deeper. There were shoals of bigger fish in the depths, and before too long I’d speared a grouper for our lunch.
Should’ve swum out here before. Didn’t exactly need a raft for the purpose.
I heaved myself out of the water and Aly followed me. Our floatation platform was sturdy enough here in the calm of the lagoon, the planks of wood bound firmly together by rope, but how would it fare in rougher seas?
“I’ll row out beyond the reef tomorrow,” I said to Aly later, after we’d finished eating. “No argument.”
Our eyes tangled, her turquoise irises sparking, my own indigos burning back at her. My hands curled as I fought the sudden desire to pull her into my arms, tell her she was my girl, tell her I’d never do anything to hurt her. Instead, I leaned back on my elbows and stared.
The air between us electrified with desire. Jesus, I was fast becoming almost as needy of her as she clearly was of me.
The weirdness of our situation.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
Of course, we clung to each other.
There was no one else to cling to.
Relenting, I pulled her toward me and swept one arm around her waist. She gasped as I thrust my tongue between her parted lips. I cradled the back of her head and she sighed, her body soft against mine. I tasted her sweet mango breath, inhaled her salty coconut scent.
Leaning away, I traced my fingers across her lips, slipped my thumb into her mouth. She sucked on it, hard.
“That feels good,” I groaned, my balls tingling.
With deft movements, I pulled down her panties, removed my briefs, lowered her down on the soft sand, and tilted my hips against her. I took her hand and drew it between us, pressing her fingers to my erection.
She moaned delightfully as she worked its length.
“Stop,” I commanded, changing my mind. “Not yet.”
Kissing her without stopping, I ran my hands down her body, pressing my fingers along the tops of her shoulders, tracing them down to the curve of her hips.
She clung to me and her nipples pressed hard against my chest. “Mmm,” she breathed into my mouth.
I curled my fingers over her ass cheeks and squeezed them hard before trailing one hand around to her pussy. I circled her clit with my thumb.
She caught her lip with her teeth and let out a mewl of pleasure.
I slipped a finger into her. Soft, slippery, warm. And so fucking tight. I added another finger and then another, searching for her g-spot while she ground against me. A shudder told me I’d found it. I clenched my jaw as she started to tremble.
Her breasts heaved and her sheath clenched. On a sharp cry, her head fell back, and her body jerked against my fingers. “Brash,” she panted.
“That’s my girl.” My voice rasped. “You’re fucking beautiful when you come apart for me.”
I held her in my lap until her ragged breathing slowed, stroking the soft skin of her arms and kissing my way up the side of her neck to the shell of her ear.
She squirmed from my hold, caught my eye and giggled. Licked her kiss-swollen lips.
I knew what she wanted; I wanted it too. I’d been teaching her how to give head these past several weeks.
Was she ready to deep throat me?
“You sure, babe?” I cocked my head to the side.
She nodded and her eyes glowed.
I lowered her back on the warm sand, covered her with my body and wrapped my arms around her.
She opened her mouth against my neck and sucked on my skin.
I groaned and held her tighter. “Okay?”
“Uh huh,” she whispered.
I rose to my knees and straddled her face, then lowered my dick to her waiting mouth. “Use your tongue, Aly.”
Without hesitation, she lapped at the fluid seeping down my weeping shaft.
I lifted one of my balls. “Suck it.” And she did, slurping on it while I looked down at her.
I spasmed and held my dick to my body. Groaning, I pumped my shaft and a droplet of pre-cum splashed on her brow. I freed my sac, and she stroked the underside of my dick with her tongue.
“Gonna fuck your mouth, now. Open wide for me.” I stared into her stunning eyes. “If it gets too much for you, tap my leg and I’ll stop.”
I eased my tip into her as she held me with her lips.
Her gaze fixed on mine.
“Open more,” I grunted, driving slowly, deeper and deeper.
I withdrew and she gasped for breath. “Good girl.”
I pushed in again. Her mouth was syrupy and wet. I could feel her jaw relax and, with each new push, I slid further.
She inhaled through her nose— her lips tight around me.
I pulled out and my cock swayed as I tipped her face up. “That’s perfect.” I slipped two fingers into her mouth. “That’s so perfect. Now, just a bit more.”
Gripping her chin, I lifted it and extended the column of her throat. With one hand in her splayed-out hair and the other around my cock, I pushed into her, pressing and pressing until my dick was pulsing against the back of her throat.
She groaned and her eyes watered, but she didn’t tap out.
I withdrew completely, long enough for her to take a gasping breath.
“All good, babe?”
She could only nod.
I pushed inside and thrust again.
Her mouth was stretched and full of cock, but she didn’t signal for me to stop.
I plunged faster and deeper, my loud panting the only sound above her snorted breaths.
She didn’t hold me back. She didn’t tap my leg. She didn’t stop me.
With each new flurry of thrusts, my cock sank further, filling and stretching the entirety of her throat.
Hell, yeah,
So fucking tight.
My fingers tensed in her hair, and I shuddered over her, groaning as I kept thrusting.
With a loud bellow, I shot my load, spurting so much cum she struggled to swallow. I withdrew and held her while she took shuddering breaths.
“You were aw
esome, babe. I’m so proud of you.” I bent and kissed the tip of her nose. “How do you feel?”
She rolled away from me, coughing. Her eyes darted every which way before finally settling on my face. She dimpled and released a throaty giggle. “Dirty. I feel dirty.” Another giggle. “That was fun, though. I hope we can do it again.”
And it was there, that longing look in her expression, her eyes soft and warm. I turned away from her with a grunt. Better remind her of my ground rules. That we were only fuck buddies for the duration. But something stopped me, something ominous.
The palm trees were swaying in a sudden fierce wind.
The sky heaved, crackled and unzipped itself.
Rain sheeted down.
Sideways rain.
Thunder crashed.
Forks of lightning lit up the sky.
Splats of rainwater darkened the sand like ink blots.
I grabbed Aly’s hand, pulled her to her feet and dragged her into the house. “This isn’t our usual afternoon rain,” I yelled above the noise of the wind. “It’s a frigging cyclone.”
Chapter Seventy-Two
Alyona
I perched on my bed and stared out the broken pane of glass in the window. Lightning crisscrossed the sky, and the humidity-sodden air pressed down like a blanket. Brash had fixed up this end of the house, using the rusty nails we’d found in that tin box, but the wind was so strong the entire building shook.
“Hope the bungalow doesn’t blow down,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself.
“Me too,” he frowned.
The sky outside howled like a banshee. Palm trees bent double and whistled, their fronds flapping like propeller blades. The hurricane snatched branches, plants and leaves, flinging them into the sky.
“Oh, my God,” I wailed, my words almost drowned out by an ear-splitting crash of thunder.
Brash came and sat next to me. “Try not to worry. We’re safe here.”
“You sure?”