by Diana Kane
“How did you—,” I ask as I open the door. Isabella doesn’t let me finish the sentence or wait to be invited in. She pounces on me, her lips crushing mine as she slams me against the wall and kicks the door shut. Our lips part as we pull off one another’s shirts and Isabella deftly strips me of my bra, snapping the hooks apart and pulling it off before I even know she is doing so. She runs her tongue over my exposed clavicle and up my neck, pulling my earlobe into her mouth.
“Did you enjoy yourself today, teasing me like that?” Her hands are on my breasts, her thumbs and fingers teasing my nipples, sending ripples of pleasure through me. I try to thrust my hips against her, but she uses her leverage to keep me pinned against the wall. I can feel my panties getting wetter with each twist, pinch and pull.
“You didn’t like it?” She loved it, I know she did, otherwise this wouldn't be happening right now.
“It made work interesting.” Her mouth is on mine again, our tongues clashing, when I feel her hand leave my breast, slowly drifting down my abdomen. Instead of touching me, Isabella slides her hand down her own shorts and starts stroking herself. I wish I could see it, just being able to feel it happening is driving me wild. My hands instinctively find her breasts, pushing the bra up over them so I can access her nipples. Our kiss continues as she rubs herself and I add stimulation by toying with her erect buds. Isabella breaks off our kiss and brings her fingers up to my lips, the scent of her arousal too enticing. I greedily pull them into my mouth and lick and suck them clean, still teasing her sensitive breasts. Isabella groans as she frees herself from her bra and then disposes of my shorts and panties. I try to remove hers, but she stops me, forcing my hands above my head. Her mouth meets mine and swallows my moan as I feel her fingers against my throbbing pussy. I want to touch her, but she holds my hands hostage above my head as she gradually increases the pressure behind her touch. I push my hips forward, and without warning, I feel her bury her fingers inside me as deep as she can.
“Fuck,” I pant, banging my head against the wall.
“I warned you that you were in trouble.” She grins as she slowly pulls her fingers back and then slams them into me again, the pleasure and faint pain sending shockwaves through me. Her thumb brushes over my throbbing clit before she pulls back and slams into me again, my hips thrusting forward each time to take as much of her in as possible. Her hand pounds against me, my hips thrusting hard in return when I feel her tongue on my nipple. I lose myself at the combined sensations, shouting out in bliss, heedless of who might hear. Isabella kisses me, her fingers still clenched in my relaxing walls.
“Consider me punished,” I tell her as she removes herself from me. She gives me a sadistic grin and kisses me again. With our lips locked, I push her further into the room, backing her up to the bed. When we’re close enough, I tear my lips from hers, spin her around and bend her over the side of the bed. I pull her shorts and panties down and let them fall to her ankles, spreading her legs a little wider. I run my fingers over her sex to lubricate them and watch as she stretches her arms out above her head, her hands gripping the duvet in fists that tighten and relax with each of my caresses. When my fingers are coated to my satisfaction, I slowly slide them inside her, her head dropping as she groans. I move in and out of her, slowly increasing my pace with each stroke. When she starts to push her hips back to meet each stroke, I wrap her hair around my hand and gently pull back.
“Mmm. Fuck me, Sara.” I pull back again, this time a little harder and she releases a loud groan.
“Touch yourself,” I order her, my fingers still stroking her inner walls. I watch with satisfaction as her right hand releases the duvet and slides under her hip. I can feel her pussy twitch when she makes contact with her clit, my fingers still working inside her. Her hips gyrate faster and faster, torn between meeting her own touch and swallowing my fingers. She buries her face in the duvet as she comes, muffling the sounds of her orgasm. I release my grip on her hair and slowly withdraw from her. She slides the rest of the way onto the bed and lays there panting as I lick the sweat from the small of her back and kiss my way up her neck, draping myself over her as I climb higher. I lay on top of her and listen as her breathing returns to normal.
“How did you know which room?”
“Ownership has its privileges. I didn’t know if you would come see me later and I couldn’t wait.”
“I’m glad you couldn’t wait,” I tell her as I roll off of her back. Without hesitation Isabella rolls over and nestles into me, her head resting on my chest. We lay and talk for a while, I can tell with each pause that Isabella is drifting closer to falling asleep. I’m not sure how long she’s out before I join her.
I wake up in Isabella’s arms, my hand wrapped around hers. I slowly extract myself from her embrace and use the bathroom. I pause to enjoy the sight of her naked beauty, as she lays oblivious to the world around her. I want to join her, to wake her and make her climax again, but decide to let her rest. I slip on my shorts and shirt, grab my Kindle and head out onto the terrace to take up residence in the enclosure. I lay there reading, occasionally stealing glances of Isabella’s slumbering form.
“What are you doing out there?” I look up to see Isabella propped up on her elbows, looking down her body at me. She slowly opens her legs a little, an invitation, a tease, pure temptation. I resist the urge, wanting to see what she will do, hoping I’ll see the show I wanted to so badly earlier. Instead, she climbs out of the bed and slowly sashays toward me, stepping out onto the terrace in the fading light, completely naked.
“What are you doing?” I ask looking around for uninvited eyes.
“No one can see us. Who cares if they hear us?” She slides on top of me and straddles my thighs. “Why are you dressed?” she asks as she pulls my top off. I wrap my arms around her waist and feel hers twin around my neck. Our eyes meet and I see the lazy smile take up residence on her lips and feel the one I give her in return. Slowly our lips come together, devoid of urgency, similar to the few kisses we shared at the lagoon. We kiss for what feels like forever, our tongues dancing with each other, her body pressed against mine, our arms wrapped around one another, the intensity building slowly. Eventually, my hands start caressing her torso, wanting to feel every inch of her, slowly mapping the contours of her body. I take her nonverbal cue to lay back when her hands move to my shoulders and push, never separating our mouths. She breaks the kiss, and I watch as she slides back, letting her hands caress my breasts and stomach until her fingers hook over the waist of my shorts. I lift my hips allowing her to pull them off and relish in the sensation of her naked flesh pressed against me as she returns her mouth to mine. We roll around, making out and pawing each other, the excitement building for each of us. When I feel like my body will spontaneously combust if Isabella doesn’t touch me soon, I roll on top of her and slide my thigh against her sex. She moans into my mouth as we continue our sensuous kissing, and bends her knee, pressing her thigh against me. I grind against her thigh, and she matches the rhythm of her hips to mine, the tempo slow and torturous. Sweat rolls down my back as we continue working our hips together, the friction increasing our pleasure. I finally break off the kiss, my need to breathe winning, as our hips begin to work frantically. My face lingers just above Isabella’s, our eyes locked, my nipples brushing over hers with each thrust.
“I’m close. Are you?” I nod that I am as Isabella presses more firmly against me and digs her fingers into my ass, holding on for dear life. I watch as Isabella’s orgasm starts, her eyes rolling shut, just as my own begins. We lay there in each other’s arms, legs entwined, sharing more tender kisses after we both come down. Isabella’s stomach loudly protesting finally breaks the spell. I laugh as I pull away from her, knowing that it’s usually my hunger that voices its opinion.
“Want to stay here, order room service and watch a movie?”
“I’d love that,” she answers before kissing me again.
*****
I’m awakene
d in the morning by Isabella rising from the bed. “Good morning,” I whisper as I stretch. She turns and smiles as she pulls on her shorts.
“Go back to sleep,” she says as she leans over and kisses my forehead. I pull her down onto the bed with me and kiss her properly, trying to entice her to join me. She relents for a moment before flipping me onto my back. “I must go, I have a meeting. Come see me later.” I groan as she laughs and leaves the bed. “I’ll see you soon,” she whispers as she runs her fingertips up my leg.
“Yes you will,” I answer as she heads to the door. A look at the clock reveals that I’ve slept a later than anticipated, not leaving enough time to work out before my snorkeling adventure. A quick shower and trip through one of the breakfast buffets and I’m out the door.
It’s mid afternoon when I return from my outing, brimming with energy. Despite the heat and humidity, I decide to go for the run I missed this morning. I pass by the bar to see it being tended by another man I have yet to meet, my workout mix already adding to the energy I feel threatening to spill out of me. I head down to the sand and start jogging, lighting the fuse that will have my legs pumping and my feet pounding by the end of the current song. By the time I’ve completed half a lap, I’m running at my usual pace, enjoying the feel of my muscles working and the adrenalin pumping through my veins. As I approach Isabella’s bungalow, I spy her on the deck, focused on something I can’t see. I’m tempted to abort my run and bolt up her stairs, but I stay focused enough to make the turn and head back to the resort. I keep making my laps, each time I approach her bungalow, the pull to run to Isabella becomes stronger. After twenty minutes I can’t fight the urge any longer. I sprint down the beach toward the bungalow and jog up the stairs, finding Isabella working away on a large canvas.
“I didn’t think you’d ever stop running and come see me.” She continues her work, not looking away from the canvas.
“I didn’t realize you saw me.”
“Oh I saw you, it was very distracting seeing you continually approach and leave, wondering if you were ever going to come up here.” Isabella puts down her brush and wipes off her hands.
“It wasn’t easy to fight the urge.” Isabella wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me. “Hi,” I whisper when our lips part.
“You’re all sweaty,” she answers with a grin and slightly wrinkled nose.
“I thought you liked me all sweaty,” I retort, pressing my forehead against hers.
“Mmm, there are times I certainly do. How was snorkeling?”
“It was fun, interesting, beautiful. What are you working on?”
“Just finishing a painting.” She plants her soft lips against mine, and I pull her tighter against me.
“Can I see it?” I’d be lying if I said that I’m not curious. I know very little about art, but find myself wondering what she has created. She stiffens and pulls away from me slightly. “It’s ok if you don’t want me to, I’m just curious.”
“It’s ok.” Her arms release me, and she takes my hand, leading me towards the painting. Before me sits a beautiful abstract piece, dominated by different shades of greens and blues, with hints of most of the secondary colors as well. It’s beautiful and complex. One moment it makes me think of the ocean and the plant and animal life within, the next I feel like I’m looking at the physical representation of an emotional breakthrough, with the bright colors of hopefulness starting to bleed through the dark colors of despair and depression.
“I love it,” I whisper as I continue to study it. That’s when the signature on the painting catches my eye. I do a double take when I notice it, look to Isabella, then back to the painting. Disbelief sets in as I turn to Isabella. “You’re Torres?”
“It isn’t a big deal.” Her tone is matter of fact, but her body suddenly seems tense.
“Not a big deal? People have been speculating for at least a decade about your identity. You’ve sold paintings for excessive sums, yet you’ve never made an appearance or done an interview. You’re like an enigma. I don’t even know much about art and I’ve heard about you.” I’m stunned, my brain struggles to process what Isabella has just revealed to me. Isabella, on the other hand, seems uncomfortable.
“While what you say is true, I must ask you not to tell anyone. Very few people know this secret. I would prefer to keep it that way.” I turn to face Isabella and take her hands in mine.
“I’m sorry if I sound a little star struck, I didn’t even know that you paint, much less this. I promise your secret is safe. Why the secrecy though?”
“I don’t want fame or notoriety. I enjoy a simple, quiet life. I paint because I enjoy it; when I feel inspired to do it. When I started, it was just a hobby, I never signed anything. Then one year a tourist from New York saw some of my work. That was how it started. Torres was my grandmother’s maiden name. Her parents didn’t want her to marry my grandfather, but they were in love. So when she married him, she broke with tradition and dropped her last name when she took his instead of hyphenating the two.” I let the information from the last couple of minutes sink in, the revelation seeming so unreal.
“So you have an ownership stake in the resort and you have a über successful alter ego as a painter? Why are you moonlighting as a bartender?” Isabella lets out a heavy sigh before answering.
“I didn’t for a long time. I make enough from the resort, much less the paintings. I’ve donated over half of what I’ve made from my paintings, and I still have plenty for the rest of my life. I started bartending again after the breakup as a means of passing the time and a distraction. I actually enjoy it and it allows me to contribute to the business without getting involved in the mundane aspects of it.” I can tell Isabella is growing tired of talking about this. I still hold her hands in mine, but she is uncharacteristically antsy.
“I’m sorry for all the questions. You just levied a huge shock on me is all. I kinda feel like Bruce Wayne just told me he’s Batman. I want you to know that it doesn’t change how I look at you, it just adds another layer to who you are. I don’t care about the money or the notoriety of your alter ego.” Isabella wears a small smile as I brush the hair back from her face and plant a light kiss on her forehead. “For the record, I’m glad you took up bartending again.” She laughs, dispelling the tension that had surrounded us.
“I’m glad too,” she says as she wraps her arms around my waist and kisses me again. “So doctor, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“If you keep calling me doctor, I’m going to have to call you Torres.”
“You wouldn’t.” I raise an eyebrow, daring her to try me. “Ok, maybe you would.” Her smile assures me she knows this is just playful banter.
“No plans. I need to go back and shower though.”
“Do you really need to? You could come inside.” Isabella starts kissing me along my neck, working to bend me to her will.
“Oh, could I?” I’m not fooling anyone, we both know I’m not going back to my suite for a shower right now.
“I think you should, you’re already all sweaty.”
Chapter 18
“How do you want to spend your last two days here?” Isabella and I lay holding each other in her bed. I can hear a certain sadness in her voice, the same sadness that echoes in my body. The last week and a half flew by, Isabella and I spending as much time as possible together. I’ve grown unexpectedly close to this beautiful, intelligent, talented, warm-hearted, passionate woman. Punta Cana was meant to be a balm on a burn. Instead it offered me something more, like gaining the ability to regenerate new skin instead of waiting for it to heal. No matter what, the truth is that I’ve barely thought about Katrina since my first days here and when I have it has lacked the sadness and confusion that it did when I first arrived.
“When do you work?” Isabella softly runs her fingers up and down the length of my spine, the action threatening to lull me to sleep.
“I covered my shifts.” Her words pull me out of the sleepy haz
e her fingers were sending me into.
“You did?” I ask lifting my head off of her chest to look her in the eye. She brushes the hair from my face, letting her fingers caress my cheek and chin.