He winced and looked suddenly ill. Then he nodded. “You’re right,” he said at last. “That is what I’m famous for. But none of that…none of them were real. You’re real.”
Every tear that escaped caused a burning, jarring ache down in my chest. “I wish I could believe you,” I whispered.
He grabbed me suddenly by the arms, twisting me to face him. “You can believe me. Just give me a chance.”
I couldn’t meet his eyes. I tried to squirm out of his grasp.
“That bottle I brought from the yacht?” he said. “I poured it away this morning. I haven’t had a drink since we got here.”
And when I looked back at him again, I could tell it was true. He looked…clear. Like I was looking at his true self. And his eyes were alive with frustration and hurt, shining in a way that made me weak inside. I couldn’t risk trusting him…but I wasn’t sure I could face going back to how I was, either. I’d done more—felt more—in the past two days than I had in the previous two years. That had to be worth taking a chance on.
“Hannah,” he said, moving in closer, our faces inches apart. He trailed a fingertip down my wet cheek, leaving a tingling trail. “Please.”
“You better not hurt me,” I whispered, the tears starting up again. And then I closed my eyes.
His lips were on me instantly, a low growl of need and relief escaping him. His arms slid around me, one around my waist and one around my shoulders, wrapping me to him and holding me as if he never wanted to let me go. The kiss was hard and urgent; drumming into me what he couldn’t tell me in words. My lips parted and the kiss grew deeper, his tongue slipping into my mouth. I felt his hand bury itself in the hair at the back of my head, holding me in place, and he kissed me to tell me I was his, forever, and it felt so good that different tears were trickling down my cheeks.
He hauled me up and twisted me around, his feet splashing in the pool’s water, until he could scoop my legs up and lay me down on my back on the flat rock beside the pool. I heard him climb up to join me, and then I felt the cool shadow of him block out the sun. I still had my eyes closed, so when his lips brushed mine it made me gasp. I could feel him hulking over me, hear his hands plant either side of my head as he lowered himself down to kiss me, our mouths moving and twisting, tasting each other and then hungrily devouring.
I could feel myself coming to life again, the slow throb of arousal turning into deep twisting, pulsing heat. This time, though, it was different. On the beach, by the fire, it had been fast and urgent, all about the physical. Now, I could feel something else happening. I could feel the frozen parts of me, the ones I thought I’d placed out of reach of anyone; slowly start to move and shift, to start to work again. He wasn’t chipping through the ice anymore. It was melting from the inside out.
I lifted my hands to his face, stroking my palms over the rough stubble on his cheeks, tracing the lines of his jaw and then tangling my fingers in his hair. The kiss changed again, becoming deeper and rhythmic. Mimicking what I knew he wanted to do to me. What I wanted him to do to me.
His mouth laid a trail of kisses down my throat and across the tops of my breasts. Then he was sliding down my body and lifting my knees, gently placing each of my feet flat on the rock. He scooped the hem of my dress up and it fell around my hips, baring my legs. I could feel him staring at the thin fabric of my panties.
And then he was pushing his head and then his shoulders between my knees, forcing them apart, and I swallowed hard as I realized what he was about to do. His lips found the delicate little crease where my leg meets my body, the one that sends me crazy whenever anyone touches it, and he began to lay the softest kisses I’d ever felt along its length, his lips just barely teasing my skin. My hands fell limply to my sides, one arm hanging down the outside of the pool while the other trailed in the water.
He moved inward, his breath warm through the thin fabric of my panties. The soft touch of him through the strip of hair I keep there, then the closer, hotter touch of him against my folds, his upper lip stroking against my bud. I sucked in a long breath through my nose, having to force myself to keep still.
He began to lick, his tongue rasping against the fabric. The material transferred every sensation, but dulled it just enough that I was left panting but on the edge, desperate to feel him against my nakedness. My knees lolled ever further apart, wantonly welcoming him in.
He laid his hands on the tops of my thighs, his thumbs finding that sensitive crease on both sides while his fingers kneaded and stroked. His mouth never stopped for a second, tracing the lines of my sex again and again through my panties, and I could feel myself getting hotter and wetter with each second that passed. I started to moan and at first it was just noises, just a way of relieving the pressure. But as he expertly licked and rubbed, I started to say his name.
His fingers hooked around the waistband of my panties and it was only as they slid down that I realized how damp they’d become. I felt like a furnace inside, could feel the hot slickness of me as I lay there ready for him. God, I’d never been so ready.
But he was going to make me wait. His head lowered slowly between my spread thighs again, his soft hair brushing the inside of my legs. I swallowed and tensed, my eyes still closed. The sun was bathing my face and high above I could hear birds calling to one another, but all of it was overshadowed by the knowledge that any second, I was going to feel his hot tongue touch me. Any second. Any sec—
My head came up off the rock and I let out a long, low, grunt of shock. His tongue had slid straight in between my moist folds and plunged deep, tasting me, and I writhed and arched my back as he held it there, my bare ass grinding against the rock. I caught my breath as he slowly withdrew and began to lick again, every tiny touch of his flesh against mine magnified a thousand fold by the way he’d teased me first.
His tongue traced every minute fold, every crease and every line of my aching, throbbing lips. And then it began to circle my bud, coaxing it from its hiding place before his mouth enveloped it completely, making me groan and thrash against the rock, my knees opening so wide that one foot slipped down into the water. I didn’t care. I just wanted his mouth to continue what it was doing, because I could feel the climax building steadily inside me, robbing me of my breath, leaving me a panting, sweating mess, and it couldn’t possibly get any better than this-
One of his fingers, hard and long and deliciously thick, parted my lips and sank into me.
Oh yes it could.
My mouth opened, lips parted but teeth tightly gritted. I opened my eyes at last, staring up at the rustling treetops and the cobalt-blue sky beyond. As the finger began to slowly move inside me, his mouth still on my clit, the sensations actually started to make me go light-headed, raw pleasure throbbing and rushing through my veins, overloading me. It wasn’t that I was trying to hold back. It was that I couldn’t, that I had no chance whatsoever of even slowing it down, that I was in a slow motion fall towards the inevitable...and I loved it. I lifted my wet foot back onto the rock, let both feet slide down the rock a little towards him, and opened myself even wider, giving myself up to him completely.
A second finger joined the first, steadily pumping, and my jaw dropped open. My whole body started to move in time with his thrusts, a slow pistoning, my shoulders sliding back and forth along rock worn smooth by the rain. His speed started to build, his tongue circling and circling my most sensitive place while his fingers stroked inside me. I closed my eyes again, then screwed them shut, my fists bunching, the climax winding tighter and tighter inside me...and then his fingers crooked circled and I let out a long, low cry as I shot over the edge, my body clenching and pulling at his thrusting hand. When he finally withdrew his fingers, I was weak and shaky and wetter than I’d ever been. And I wanted more.
He half sat me up and pulled the dress over my head, then helped me to strip off my bra. I watched as he pulled off his t-shirt and jeans, then his shorts, and then we were completely naked together. And this time it
wasn’t dark. This time, he could see all of me.
He leaned forward and kissed one breast reverently. “Curvy….” he said, his voice tight with lust. He kissed the other breast, “…goddess.”
One arm hooked under my back and another under my legs, and he lifted me, pulling me to his chest. I wrapped my legs around him.
He looked meaningfully at the waterfall.
“God,” I moaned. “Really?”
He nodded and started to walk us there. When we’d first arrived on the island, I’d never have trusted him to do it. I would have worried that he’d drop me, that he’d stumble, half-drunk. But now he was solid as a rock. By the time we reached the crashing spray, it was up to his knees. I looked at the water. It was white and fierce, and just the thought of being underneath it made me shiver. But at the same time, the thought of doing it, the thought of having him inside me while that went on outside me….
He was looking at me, one of those teasing smiles on his face. I took two deep breaths and then nodded.
He walked us in.
The water hit us and I drew my breath in to shout, to curse, but I couldn’t get anything out. The water was all around us, thundering in our ears, blocking out our voices. It drummed on my shoulders, pounding them better than any massage, and hammered down onto my naked breasts.
The cold hit me an instant later, my whole body going tense. I clutched at him, shuddered against his chest, feeling my nipples hardening. My hands ran over the muscles of his back, drawing strength from him. I’d thought that I’d been alive on the rocks—I’d thought that the sensations he gave me couldn’t be any more real. But this was like awakening from a dream. Every sense suddenly snapped into vivid clarity, every beat of his heart radiating through me, every trembling breath I took full of fragrant, crisp air.
He pushed me back against the cliff, the slickened rock as smooth as marble from centuries of crashing water. His hands were on my waist, holding me there, his cock hot and hard and moving up towards me—
I gave a groan of raw, heady release as he moved into me, wrapping my legs around his waist. He braced me against the rock, his hands planted either side of me, and we kissed. For a second, we just stayed like that, the water crashing down on our shoulders and forcing its way between our bodies, just savoring the sensation of being joined. And then he began to move.
It started gently, just a few inches of silken pumping, his muscular thighs tight between mine, his chest squashing my breasts between us. But as he kissed me and kissed me, we both needed more. His strokes got longer, faster, and it turned hard and almost brutal—exactly what I needed. My hands grasped at his back, clawing at him, his thick length plunging between my thighs again and again, my ass pressed tight against the rock. His hands came down to stroke my breasts, my nipples so hard and sensitive that I gasped aloud when he first touched them. I started to churn my hips against him, another orgasm building inside me, and then his mouth was at my ear. “Come for me,” he said, almost a snarl. “Come for me and forget him, forget everyone.”
I panted and gasped and rubbed myself against him. God, he felt so good inside me, the heat of him there completing me, making me come alive. “Yes,” I whispered, pressing my mouth close to his ear so he could hear me over the water. “Yes. I’m going to. Going...to….”
His thrusts grew harder, his body hammering against mine and I went weak at the sensation of him filling him completely on each stroke, at the thought of him right up inside me. My arms locked tight around his shoulders, my feet digging in just below his ass. “God!” I screamed.
And it raced through me, exploding in my chest, making me hold my breath for so long I saw stars. I was his, undeniably and completely, and anything in my past was gone. As I gasped my release at his ear, whispering his name, he said mine. And with a groan, he hilted himself inside me and I felt the heat of him as he shot and shot.
Chapter 16
We gave ourselves a holiday.
We figured that we’d found water and food, and built an SOS sign and made fire by rubbing sticks together (well, almost). We deserved an afternoon off.
We walked hand in hand along the beach, with me wearing one of the men’s shirts to shield my shoulders from the sun. After two years of being alone, you would have thought I would have been talking non stop, making up for lost time. But I found that what I’d really missed was the silence. Those moments when you can just be with someone and communicate just by squeezing their hand or looking into their eyes or snugging an arm around their waist.
We did a lot of that, that afternoon. And said more than we could have said with days of talking. I felt…free. Free in a way I hadn’t felt in two years.
He persuaded me letting him give me a piggyback and, with my breasts pushing against his naked back, we sprinted down the beach like that, laughing like kids. It was when we’d collapsed into the sand and dusted ourselves off that I spotted something I’d been looking for since we arrived: a coconut tree.
“Are you by any chance getting sick of steamed fish?” I asked.
“I could go at least a year without steamed fish at this point.”
I looked thoughtfully up at the tree. “We could do a sort of Thai curry. Well, fish in coconut milk. It’s something, right? And coconut flesh to eat.” My mouth watered. But as we got closer, the size of the thing became clearer. It must have been eighty feet tall. “I didn’t know they were that big,” I said in a small voice. “How the hell are you supposed to get at the coconut?”
Adam rubbed at his stubble, looked at me and then looked at the tree. And then he was climbing the trunk.
I ran forward. “Are you kidding me?”
He kept going.
“Adam, it’s too high!”
“If my girl wants a coconut,” he told me, “she shall have a coconut.” He was ten feet up, now, hugging the tree like a lover with his arms and legs.
“Come down!” I didn’t know whether to laugh or be scared. “Adam, be serious!”
“When am I ever serious?”
He was twenty feet up now. Thirty. “Adam, if you fall you’ll break your legs. Or your back! There’s no doctor! There’s not even any painkillers!”
Forty feet up. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “I once did this up a drainpipe to get into a girl’s room. Her dad disapproved of me.”
“Sensible guy. Come down!”
Sixty feet up. He looked worryingly small. I was getting really scared, now. What if he fell? What if I lost him? “This is crazy! We can just eat fish!”
Seventy feet. Eighty. And now he was at the top, the tree bending and creaking under his weight. He felt around for the coconuts and then took out one of the kitchen knives. To saw through the stalk, he had to let go of the trunk with one arm—
“ADAM! Be careful—”
With a yell of surprise and fear, he slipped and dangled, hanging on underneath the trunk like a monkey. My heart jumped into my mouth. “Adam!”
Then his feet slid loose and he dangled from just his arms. His face went pale. I ran forward. “No! Adam!”
And then he was kicking at the coconuts, snapping their stalks, and they were falling like rain into the sand, making me leap back out of the way. When they were all down, he managed to haul himself slowly back on top of the trunk again. “There,” he said with false bravado. “Easy.” Then, looking at my horrified face, “What? That was all perfectly planned. That’s just how the locals do it. Probably.”
I kicked him in the leg for scaring me and then hugged him tight.
***
As the sun set, we walked along the beach, passing a cracked-open coconut between us and sipping the milk.
“Can I admit something to you?” I said.
He put his arm around my waist and pulled me close.
“There’s a part of me,” I said, “I mean, not all of me, just a part of me...that, sort of….”
“Doesn’t want to go back?”
I nodded.
“Me too.”
***
The next morning, I woke up feeling wrong. It only took me a second to realize that Adam was gone.
I sat bolt upright, my heart suddenly racing. But he was right there, standing at the edge of the water. I forced myself to calm down before I went over to him. It was scary, how fast the feel of him next to me had become normal—essential—after so many nights alone. I realized it had felt right on that very first night, before we were even together.
A little shaken, I hurried over to him. He grabbed my hand as I reached him and pointed wordlessly out towards the rocks.
There was something white just beyond them, crunching up against them. If you listened carefully, you could hear the splintering sound even from the beach. It was only when the shape rotated slightly that I recognized it. “The yacht?!” I asked breathlessly.
“The front half of it, at least. It must have broken apart as it sank, and the front’s got enough buoyancy to keep it afloat. It drifted here, just like the stuff that washed up yesterday.
I stared at it. “Do you think there’s anything useful in it?”
He looked at me. “Only one way to find out.”
***
We had to time it just right, to catch the tide but get to the boat before it was carried too far from the rocks. Luckily, the lifeboat had two sets of oars. With both of us pulling on them, we managed to skirt around the rocks and reach the wreck from the rear.
The yacht had been snapped in two halfway along its length, the decks and cabins exposed like a cutaway diagram. It was tilted over to one side, but seemed to be jammed firmly against the rocks by the incoming tide. It wasn’t going to move for the moment. When the tide went out again, it would be a different story.
“We don’t have long,” Adam told me. “You take one side, I’ll take the other. We’ll grab what we can. Then you do the galley and I’ll do the bridge. Okay?”
I nodded and we climbed aboard.
Shipwrecked with the Billionaire Rock Star Page 11