by Eva Luxe
“Yes. Patience, darling.”
I continued where we’d left off and teased him some more until that little-wet spot increased in size.
“Jesus,” he hissed, his hips bucking into the air.
I decided it was time to give him a little more and unzipped the fly of his pants letting his cock spring forth out of his boxers.
The sight was a delicious one. He was wide, veiny, strong and hard. The shape curved upwards with a vengeance and dripped with delectable beads of pre-cum.
“Look at this, you’re so wet,” I teased, stroking his cock and watching as it twitched and jerked from side to side. His member was huge. Both thick and long, probably around ten inches. Superb.
I wrapped my hand around him and watched Beckett’s neck muscles strain from the expert touch of my hands.
I teased and stroked his balls and savored the low grumblings of him groaning with desire.
Pleasuring him in the way was an aphrodisiac like no other. One touch from him would make me climax.
“Shit, Eliza… I’m…. I’m gonna cum. Fuck.”
“Oui, darling. I can tell.” I purred, grazing my lips over the flared head. Beckett’s hands curled into fists. He was having a hard time fighting what his body wanted.
When I took his hot pulsing cock in my mouth, I felt it grow even more.
I sucked down hard on him, using the edge of my teeth in all the right places. The saltiness of his precum and the definition of his cock’s veins running up the side like vines on a building tasted and felt glorious on my tongue.
“Fuck, I’m cumming,” Beckett groaned.
He slid down further onto the couch, every muscle in his body tense, and I waited for the first rounds of cum to hit my tongue.
When I felt it, I popped my mouth off his cock and grabbed the base, delighting as he exploded all over my hand. I was impressed with the thickness of his seed. Beckett could probably give me good healthy babies. If babies were indeed something I saw in my future. But, alas, I feared that ship had set sail a long time ago.
He kept cumming for longer than I imagined a man could cum.
By the time he was done, my fingers were covered in him.
“Mon, Dieu, Monsieur,” I said with a giggle.
“Mon, Dieu is right.” Beckett tidied himself up and stood. He walked to the back of our suite, and when he came back, he handed me a towel, but before I could clean myself up, he slipped a finger into my mouth. I sucked deep, and a few seconds later, he took it back out, pleased with himself and me.
He leaned down close to my ear and whispered, “Bet you want me inside you now, huh?”
“Yes,” I moaned. “Once we land…” I smiled, cleaning my hands. I didn’t want full on sex in the air. Plus, there was the privacy issue. The things I wanted from Beckett weren’t something I wanted to risk a flight attendant witnessing.
Once we had cleaned ourselves up, we reclined in our seats and rested. I was very much looking forward to later and Beckett pleasuring me the way I’d just pleasured him.
There was knocking at the door, and I almost ignored it until I heard a familiar voice. “Elizaaaa! I know you’re here. I saw you walk on with a hunk of a man. Don’t leave your old friend all lonely.”
Trisha. I hadn’t seen her in such a long time. I jumped out of my seat and went to open the door.
“Mon Ami!” I chirped, kissing both cheeks and pulling her into a hug. “How are you?”
“I’m good, how’re—so this is him? Your match?” she said, turning her attention to Beckett. He waved, and Trisha waved back.
“Yes, this is my match, Beckett.”
“Your rivals are going to be annoyed. Good! I’m bringing a match too! My husband, Hiram, who’s busy sleeping like a bear.” Trisha pointed down the hall where their section of the plane was. “I saw that bastard Louis managed to wrangle an invitation.”
“I saw,” I said with a shrug.
“Why that man hasn’t been shunned by the match-making world is beyond me.” She glowered. “He doesn’t deserve an invitation to Matcher’s Island. I was very happy when I heard he’d stormed off the plane. Something I believe should thank your man for.”
“Beckett had a word in Louis’s ear. I’m sure his disgusting and underhanded ways will catch up with him. He is no longer any of my concern.” I was lying, Louis’s actions and behavior still made me seethe.
“We can only hope. Well, don’t let me keep you away from your man. I just wanted to say hi! Congratulations on finding your perfect someone and for the nomination. You’re a shoo-in. There isn’t a better matchmaker out there right now. I’m beyond thrilled for you.”
“Thank you, Trisha.”
I gave her another hug, and she waltzed back to her area in the plane. It was refreshing to see someone in my line of work who wasn’t a rival or enemy. Friends were scarce in such a cutthroat business.
Chapter Eight
Beckett
The limo ride to the hotel was smooth. The car was wider than the ones back at home.
Eliza stayed on the far end of the seat, gazing out of the window, she obviously had a lot of things on her mind. If this was more of a vacation than a business thing, I’d be able to see more of the real Eliza instead of the Eliza always on guard, the one suspicious of everyone’s motives.
In our private moments, away from the demands of the week, I planned to tear down her defenses one by one.
“There’s some wine in here. Would you like a glass?” I asked Eliza to break the silence.
“Non, I’m good.” Eliza sighed and broke her gaze from staring out of the window to look at me. “Why do I feel so terrible?” she asked me with pleading eyes. “I feel like I’m going to explode from all the pressure building inside of me.”
I scooted over to her and took her in my arms. “Calm down, I think this is just weighing on your shoulders more than it should. You’re Eliza Rousseau, the best matcher in the country. Why do you think you were invited or nominated in the first place?”
She rested her head on my shoulder, and I nuzzled my nose in her hair. “I guess you’re right. Thank you for coming, Beckett. Your support means the world to me.”
“Why wouldn’t I come? You’re mine, remember?” I stroked her silky soft hair, comforting her.
When we pulled up to the resort, I got out first and then held out my hand for Eliza. She took my hand and stepped out of the limo like a model.
Cameras flashed, and the paparazzi in attendance peppered her with questions which she graciously answered as I whisked her inside. Gone was the apprehensive woman from the car and in her place was the polished and professional matchmaker, Eliza Rousseau.
The lobby was large and grandiose. Everything from the floor to the ceiling was marble and gold with red carpets showing people the way.
“Beautiful place,” I said, looking up at the cathedral ceilings.
“I know. It’s been several years since I’ve been here and it’s just as beautiful as I remember.”
Over by the check-in area, the conference staff were decked out in red uniforms. Their jaws dropped when they saw Eliza. Their jaws dropped even further when they saw me.
“Ms. Rousseau, hello! We’ve been expecting you and your… husband?” said a professional looking woman holding a tablet to her chest.
“Fiancé,” I corrected. I was having fun with this. I could feel Eliza fuming right next to me. She had to admit the word boyfriend wasn’t as good as fiancé.
“He’s a riot, sometimes,” she said. “Here’s my card.
“There’s no need,” the woman explained, “it’s all been taking care of.”
“Oh?” Eliza raised an eyebrow in my direction.
“I may have asked Lucy to prepay everything on my behalf,” I said.
“There was no need.”
“It’s my job to take care of you, my love.”
I could tell Eliza wanted to say more, but instead of saying anything, she gave me a sweet smile.
“Thank you, mon chèr. Being taken care of is going to take some getting used to.”
The woman handed us two cards. “Here are your keys. Tap the space just above the handle, and it’ll open the door. The view is the most spectacular one we have. Very romantic.”
“Thank you,” Eliza said, taking the keys and handing me mine.
“Enjoy your stay. We’re very excited to have you with us this year, and congratulations on the nomination.”
****
The limo drove us to our home away from home, which was surprisingly far from the main part of the hotel. I hadn’t told Eliza where in the resort we were staying because I wanted it to be a surprise.
“Why so far?” Eliza asked.
“I wanted a private beach,” I admitted, the wicked look on my face telling her the reason why.
We came to a stop in front of a luxury house a few steps away from a sugar white beach.
“This is where we’re staying?” Eliza asked, her eyes wide.
“I wanted us to have space and privacy. You needed a place to unwind.”
“You did this for me?”
“For us.”
While the driver handled our luggage, Eliza took the key out of her purse and waved it in front of the lock.
“I’m so glad we have the place to ourselves.” She eyed the emerald green water and gave a happy sigh. “I do love to swim… naked,” she added with a grin. “Can you swim, Beckett?”
“I used to be on the swimming team back in my younger days.”
“Younger days. You’re not that old yet.”
“I’m getting there. Which is why I need to nail you down as my wife.”
A hue of scarlet skipped across her cheeks as we entered the air-conditioned foyer. The driver put our stuff to the side. I tipped him, and he bounced away three hundred dollars richer.
“This place is spectacular,” she said with a happy sigh. “I could happily stay here forever.”
“Only the best for you.”
“There’s an elevator!” Eliza exclaimed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house with an elevator before.”
“And six bedrooms,” I informed her. “We can christen every one of them.”
“Perhaps, but first things first.” Eliza dropped her dress down to her ankles and kicked off her heels.
“Looks like someone is ready to swim,” I said, staring at her ass as she sashayed away.
“Yes, call me if you need me—”
“Wait!” I threw off my clothes. She spun around to see me naked and very ready for her.
“Oh, my,” she groaned, taking all of me in. “Looks like you’re ready for more than a swim.”
“You’ve got that right.” I went to her and wrapped my fingers around hers.
Hand in hand, we walked outside and through the powdery sand to the gentle waves of the Caribbean Sea. The touch of the water was warm and inviting. I hadn’t swum since I had come out of rehab, so this was a treat.
Eliza
When we were knee deep in the warm water, Beckett pulled me to him.
“I haven’t kissed you since we arrived,” he said. “I think it’s time we set the tone for this vacation, don’t you? And after your little display on the airplane, you deserve a treat too.”
Beckett made me feel like a giddy school girl, and that was by no means a bad thing.
He lowered his lips to mine, and when they touched me, every cell in my body came to life and every nerve ending electrified. The tip of his tongue moved in and out of my mouth, and I imagined him doing the very same thing to my pussy.
I moaned deeply, and he broke away. Fire and mischief filled his eyes.
“Open your legs for me, Eliza. Remind me what’s waiting for me when I finally fuck you.”
He got down on his knees, the water lapped around his chest and back, and I opened my legs for him.
Gently, he reached over and spread my folds and stroked his fingers up and down. “Beautiful.”
I shivered at his touch, and my inner muscles fluttered and clenched.
“I think it’s time I tasted you,” he said.
With his face in line with my crotch, he moved his fingers to my clit and then swiped his tongue over the engorged bud. I jolted forward and placed my hands on his shoulders to keep my balance. He wrapped an arm around my thighs to anchor me in place as my entire body shook and my pussy flooded with arousal.
“I think you’re ready,” Beckett murmured against me. “Are you ready for what I have to give you, my love?”
“Oui,” I breathed out.
He slid one finger and then a second into my throbbing channel, massaging my inner walls at a maddingly slow pace.
Tremor after tremor rolled over me, but every time I came close to falling into the abyss of my orgasm, Beckett would stop pleasuring me only to begin again once the threat of me losing it had subsided.
While continuing to finger-fuck me, he clamped his lips over my clit somehow managing to keep his balance in the lapping water.
My legs shook so much, I was in danger of dropping into the sea, but Beckett’s arm around my thighs kept me upright.
He held my clit between his teeth and flicked the tip of his tongue back and forth. I couldn’t hold back, and an orgasm rolled over me like a powerful wave.
My back bowed, pushing my clit and pussy deeper into him. I called out his name and gasped as my climax consumed me.
Unable to take any more, I squirmed away from him, but he refused to let me go and held me as the glorious aftershocks rippled through me.
He lifted his head and grinned. “Has anyone ever finger-fucked and brought you to orgasm on a private beach before?”
Still dazed, I shook my head.
“Good,” he said, sounding pleased. “And no one but me ever will again.”
He stood from the water, and his thick, veiny cock jutted out proudly. I licked my lips eager to taste him again.
Beckett wrapped his hand around his shaft and stroked up and down. “I see you want to suck me off again.”
“How could I not? You’re so magnificent.”
“I recall you saying you wanted to swim. I can wait for my release until later.”
I pouted. “It’s not fair that you get to have all the fun.”
“So, it’s more fun you want?”
He came closer and lowered his head to my nipple while his fingers went straight to my still sensitive and fluttering clit. He sucked and bit my nipple sending me insane with desire. I wanted him inside me in the worst possible way.
“Take me, Monsieur,” I gasped. “I want you to fuck me on the sand.”
He stepped away from me. “When I fuck you, it’ll be when we aren’t pressed for time, and it won’t be on a beach where sand will get in the way, but I will give you another orgasm.”
His eyes burned into mine as his fingers roughly speared my pussy. I closed my eyes, and my head lolled back.
“No, my love, look at me. I want to see your face when you come.”
Obediently, I looked into his eyes as he finger-fucked me. It was as intense as it was intimate.
My arousal dripped between my thighs, I was wetter than I’d ever been, and it had nothing to do with being in the water. My inner muscles gripped him and squeezed hard.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Beckett asked.
I gulped down a breath and nodded.
He increased the pace of his fingers, and my hips moved in time with his movements. His strokes became fast and frantic, and the world around me vanished. There was only the two of us lost in each other.
“Come for me, Eliza, let yourself go.” He flicked his thumb over my clit, and I lost it. This orgasm was even more powerful than the first.
My pussy grasped his fingers so hard, I was afraid I would break them. Over and over again spasms shook my body.
When I was spent, I leaned my head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat.
How could a man I barely knew, know
me so well?
Chapter Nine
Beckett
We entered the ballroom where a gigantic crystal chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling. Eliza and I stood at the top of the steps where she continually tugged at her floor-sweeping black silk dress, huffing and puffing.
“Eliza, are you okay?” I asked.
“No, this damn dress, it’s too long. I knew I should’ve worn something else,” she complained. “I had it custom made, but now I regret it.”
“Stop that,” I said, gripping her hips. “You look beautiful. Come on, you’re over thinking this. You’re sheer perfection.”
“Thank you,” she said, but I could tell she didn’t believe a word I’d said.
As we walked down the stairs, people had their eyes glued on us with each step we took. Eliza didn’t look at the people staring at us. She was a queen, drifting down to meet her subjects.
A seating plan at the bottom of the stairs showed us where we would sit. I guided Eliza over to our table and, on our way, I could see couples look at us and then lean over to gossip and whisper with their counterparts.
Eliza really had a reputation for being a lonely lady. And so what? Many people preferred to be alone. Preferring your own company didn’t mean you deserved to be whispered about or stared at.
I pulled out a gold and red chair for Eliza to sit down in and she tugged the train of her dress to make sure it wasn’t in the middle of the floor, waiting to trip someone up.
The tables were beautifully decorated with golds and reds, and already full champagne glasses sat in front of each seat. Reaching over the champagne, I picked up a pitcher of water and poured myself a glass.
“Are you okay, my love?” I asked before taking a sip of water.
“Yes, I’m good. Thank you, Beckett.” She smiled with her luscious red lips, and all I could think about was what I wanted to do with her and to her when we got back to the room.
The presence of someone loomed behind us, and I turned my head to see three women approach. They had stern faces and didn’t look friendly.
“Well, well, Eliza. Is this what I think it is?” the middle-aged woman in the center of the trio said. She wore a dark purple dress that didn’t flatter her figure… and her red lipstick made her teeth look yellow.