His breath stirred the hair at her nape. Swallowing, she looked out over the ocean. In the distance, the waves crashed and she imagined they crashed over her, coming to grief upon her flesh.
“They both moaned. She rose, and then she fell, rose and fell. Over and over, again and again, increasing in pace and vigour as she placed her hands on his chest, her hips churning. He leant forward, encasing her breast with his lips and she moved harder, faster, both of them moaning. The sea churned around them, a spray across their heated flesh. Surely he could taste the salt on her, his mouth voracious as he licked and suckled. Surely, she could taste it in the water that fell upon her lips, in the remnants of him left on her tongue.”
His teeth closed upon the cord of her neck.
Sound burst from her, a desperate keen. His tongue soothed the abused flesh, and then he bit her again, soothed and bit, soothed and bit. Fingers dug into her hip as his other hand shaped her breast, worried her nipple, and she could only grip the balustrade, her body on fire. She wanted him in her mouth, in her sheath. She wanted to touch him, taste him, and he kept denying her.
“And what were you doing?”
She blinked. Swallowed. “Sir?”
“What were you doing, Olivia? Were you touching yourself? Did you have your hand in this pretty place?” Abandoning her breast, his hand covered her sex.
Breath seized in her throat.
“Did you pleasure yourself, Olivia?” He stroked her through her gown. “Did you cover yourself with your hand, as I’m doing now, and rub yourself? Did you fuck yourself with your fingers?”
The breath trapped in her throat left her in a shaky exhale. “I - I wanted to.”
“But you didn’t?”
Why did he sound disappointed? This was false, none of this had happened, and oh heavens, what was he doing with his finger?
“And the couple?”
Dazed, she struggled to remember her tale. “Th - they moved and…and thrust. Then she froze, her head thrown back as she climaxed.” Voice growing stronger, she arched into him as he continued to stroke her. “He buried his face in her breasts and clutched her to him, his hips thrusting into her and then he froze, his groan so loud I could hear.”
“Did they see you?” He pressed firmly.
Fire streaked through her. She shook her head, but she didn’t know if she was saying no. She couldn’t answer, not when he touched her so.
Cupping his hand around her thigh, he bade her lift her leg. Bending her knee, he gathered her skirts on her thigh before bracing her shin against the balustrade, her skin protected from the stone by his hand. Though a slight frown drew her brows, she made no protest.
His other hand slid up her inner thigh, the leg holding her upright trembling under his touch. The position had opened her for him, skirts and petticoats drawn aside, and he found what he sought. Head falling forward, she couldn’t speak as he traced the most sensitive part of her.
Gently, he circled her flesh. “I think they did see you, Olivia. I think they saw you and they wanted you. They would have welcomed you if you had joined them, would have licked every inch of you, caressed you, made you come over and over again.”
A scream grew inside her. Oh heavens, just there. Just there.
“He would have fucked you while she watched, his cock inside you as it had just been inside her. She would have licked you, made you come with her fingers and tongue. In those waves, over and over again.”
Closing her eyes, she whimpered, her blood beating in her ears. His clever thumb circled her again and again, and his finger rubbed through her slick folds until he found her opening. Dipping inside, he set a leisurely pace, one designed to drive her insane.
Lightning forked through her, and she rocked against him, wanting him harder, deeper, wanting to touch him but she kept her hands where he wished them, her fingers digging into the stone as he made her mad.
Then, he left her.
Her eyes flew open. No, no, what was he doing?
Urging her leg back to the ground, he placed his feet between hers, forcing her stance wider. Slowly, he drew her skirts up, the material bunched at her hips. Breath erratic, she allowed him to arrange her how he wanted, her lust a beat deep within her. Easily, he removed her drawers and cool rushed over her bottom, a caress to her still-aroused flesh.
Head dropping forward, her knees buckled and she fought to keep herself upright as his touch trailed over her exposed flesh. He fumbled at the closure of his trousers, and then she felt him, naked and hard against her. His fingers slid under the straps of her garter belt and dug into her flesh, and with a jerk he forced her back into the cradle of his hips. His cock slid through her wet folds, and she moaned as he caught her just right.
“Would you have liked that, Olivia?”
What? Liked what?
“Would you have liked them to have fucked you?” His voice hoarse, again he slid against her, back and forth, back and forth. “Would you have spread your legs and opened your mouth for them?”
The head of his cock notched against her, teasing her with the promise of him. Short, shallow thrusts rubbed him against her, driving her wild. “Only if you were there.”
He stilled, and his forehead met her shoulder. A great shudder went through him. “Dear god, woman, you slay me with so few words.”
“I love you, sir,” she said softly.
“And I love you.” Then, he gripped her hips and drove inside.
A moan tore from her. Hard, thick heat filled her, a presence she still was not used to even after a month of marriage. Pulling back, he thrust again, his hands cupping her breasts. Material bunched between them as she pushed into his heavy thrusts, meeting each one with legs spread wide, taking him even as he was taking her.
He changed angle, and she almost screamed. Oh heavens, just there! Just there! She babbled her pleasure over and over, knew she wasn’t making sense, but neither was he, muttering things of how she was hot and tight and wet, and he loved it when she gripped like that, yes, just like that.
She did it again, and then again, and she moaned when he squeezed her breasts, what would have been pain moments ago now the keenest pleasure. Hips slamming against her, he pushed her flesh upwards and she screamed, the pleasure too much.
His hand left her breast and he burrowed between her legs, pushing that small bit of flesh where her pleasure centred against him as he thrust. White heat raced through her, making her feel as if she would fly apart.
Body arched and eyes blind, she sought his mouth. His tongue swept inside, and she greeted him with her own. This was the only way he’d let her touch him, so she bit and licked and sucked at his mouth, capturing his lower lip in her teeth, smoothing the small bite with her tongue. His fingers busy between her thighs, he banded her breasts with his other arm, binding her to him. She arched against his chest, desperate to feel as much of him as she could.
It was building, it was rushing towards her, and she needed it so bad, the feel of him inside her driving her insane, his mouth on hers, his hands on her, hers bound to the balustrade, heavens above, she was dying…
And then, it broke.
Wave after wave of pleasure stormed through her, intense and shattering. He growled in her ear, something unintelligible, and his thrusts became heavier, less controlled. Arm tightening around her breasts, his free hand fell against the balustrade next to hers. Greater purchase achieved, he lunged inside her as his focus changed from her to him.
She wanted to help, wanted him to experience the overwhelming pleasure he’d given her. Gripping him tight, she fought every retreat, welcomed every return. Amazingly, she felt it build inside her again, quick and bright. Lacing her hand over his, she brought the other to where they were joined, caressing herself and him with every stroke.
He cursed and shouted and finally broke, whispering her name as he shuddered over her. She followed with a second pleasure greater than the first because she shared it with him.
Hands beside he
rs he collapsed over her and silence fell around them. As one, they regained their breath, watching the waves roar below them. Moonlight painted the sand in silver, and the gas lights faded into the distance.
After a time, Richard removed himself from her. Finally freed, she immediately turned to wrap her arms about him, and he, returning her embrace, rested his chin atop her head.
Rubbing her cheek against his shoulder, she held him tight. “I missed you today.”
“I missed you, too.” His lips twitched. “Though maybe we should be apart more often if we greet each other so.”
Amusement filled her and, affecting wide eyes, she asked, “Shall we greet each other again?”
His laugh rang out into the night. “I see I have a wanton on my hands.”
“Only with you, dearest sir.”
He shuddered. “I love it when you call me such.”
Mysterious and wicked, she smiled. Heavens, she loved him so.
Returning Olivia’s smile, he lifted her onto the balcony. Obligingly, she wrapped her legs about him as he curled an arm about her back. Renewed desire surged through her when he forced her thigh higher on his hip, her breasts flattening against the hardness of his chest.
Why on earth had she ever had concern for modesty or discretion? When he held her so, she didn’t care if they brought the attention of all of Scarborough upon them.
Mouth dry, she wet her lips. “Sir? Will you greet me?”
“You have but to ask, my love,” he said, before she took his mouth with hers.
Ice Cream Kisses
By M. A. Stacie
Looking out of the window, Skye sighed. Her week of escapism was almost over. The party on the beach this afternoon would be her signal to return to home. Her time would be up and she would need to go back to the caustic formality of her real life. The life that never truly felt like hers.
The DJ booked to play on Brighton beach later that day wasn’t her usual choice of music, but then running away for one small piece of freedom wasn’t normal for her either. Skye was usually accepting of her fate, knowing it would be futile to argue with her father. That was until her life had started to suffocate her.
Shaking her head, she stared at the pier, smiling when she noticed who was serving the ice creams at the first booth. His name tag told her he was called Tom, and she’d met him on her first day here. He’d offered her a free strawberry cone and after that, she’d bought a different flavour each day.
Tom told the dirtiest of jokes, causing her to giggle like a child and blush horrendously. Nevertheless, she continued to go back, more for the interaction than the sugary ice cream.
Her father would despise him on sight. The ice white dreadlocks and tattoos would be too different for him to accept. Not to mention the pierced nose and eyebrow. Skye thought it was quirky. It gave Tom an edge that no other man she’d ever known had. He interested her on a new level, one that was not solely platonic.
The voice inside her head told her that it was almost time to leave and starting something now was not a wise move. Yet, thoughts of his lips touching hers would not go away, only grew in their intensity. Ideas about what she would do if they ever got that close had her skin heating and her heart pounding. Her friends would be disgusted if she ever shared the erotic dream she’d experienced last night, as there was nothing gentle, tender or romantic about it. It had been raw, filled with lust and urgent aggression. Tom had consumed her.
She gulped. It hadn’t even been in a bed.
“You thinkin’ of gettin’ one last ice cream, dear?”
Skye smiled at the large woman blocking the doorway. Her red hair hung loose around her shoulders, her green eyes wrinkled at the edges and her complexion ruddy from years living by the sea. She’d been nothing but welcoming since Skye had arrived, always asking how she was feeling and whether she wanted anything special for dinner.
“I was definitely giving it some serious thought.”
The landlady dusted flour off her apron, moving closer to Skye. “You know, a bit of fun never hurt anyone.”
Skye frowned, curious as to what Mrs. Kepler was inferring.
“I see the way you look at Tom. He gets a lot of attention. Rarely see him look back with interest, though. It’s your last day, and I’m just pointing out the attraction seems mutual.”
Skye blushed furiously, stuttering for the right response. No one had ever talked to her with that level of boldness, but then Mrs. Kepler had no idea who she really was.
“Don’t be all embarrassed, girl. You came here to have a bit of freedom, am I right?”
Skye nodded.
“Then your chance is over that road, serving people ice cream. I hear he knocks off in an hour. The booth isn’t staying open for the party because last time it got wrecked.”
Passing Skye her bag, Mrs. Kepler winked. “Go and say goodbye to him.”
Feeling awkward, Skye thanked the woman, sliding past her and leaving the bed and breakfast. What the hell was she supposed to say to him? Other than asking him for yet another ice cream. He must have hundreds of women coming on to him during summer season here. She would be another Flake in his large stock of 99 cones. God, her hands were shaking.
Worried about what she was going to say to him, she crossed the road, enjoying the feel of the sun as it heated her skin. The light breeze from the sea did little to take the edge off the rare English warmth, and she was glad she’d come out without a cardigan. Her thin vest top was perfect.
From the day she’d arrived, Skye realised just how busy this seaside town was, but today was much worse. Every step she took she dodged men, women and children, all excited and no one really looking where they were walking.
She wasn’t used to this number of people, and crowds made her nervous. The noise was also a bit too much to cope with. She tried to ignore it, to focus on the ice cream booth and push through the throng of excitement.
The beach was already beginning to fill, people desperate to get as close to the stage as possible. She could see a few men setting up equipment on the large stage, pushing huge black boxes from one side to the next as they yelled out to each other. There was still another hour or so before the DJ was due to start, and given how hot it was already, Skye mused the people waiting on the sand were going to be burned to a crisp unless they were slathered in factor fifty. Her skin prickled at the thought.
“Hiya, sweets. Have you come to try your very last flavour?”
Blinking him into focus, Skye returned Tom’s smile. He waved the ice cream scoop at her, winking and flashing his dimpled cheeks. The butterflies in her stomach went wild, and no amount of controlled breathing helped. There was just something about the man in front of her that got her hormones raging whenever he was close.
Stumbling, she shouted over a group of retreating customers. “I suppose I have. Today’s my last day.”
Tom’s brow creased, his blue eyes softening with what appeared to be sadness. He remained silent while she pushed forward to the front of the booth, and only spoke when he flipped up a panel in the counter, gesturing for her to enter. “Then I guess a super special ice cream is in order.”
A frisson of excitement skittered down her spine, causing her to shudder lightly. She shimmied through the gap, growing instantly aware of the minimal space they were going to have to share.
“Are you allowed to do this?” she asked anxiously. “Should I really be back here?”
Shooting her a mischievous grin, he shrugged. “Who’s to know?”
A whirling sound enveloped them, followed by the light grinding of gears. The metal shutters started to slide down, blocking out the sunlight, along with much of the heat. A nervous anticipation filled the enclosed booth, speeding up her pulse as well as her temperature.
Skye stuttered, trying to explain that he didn’t need to do this for her. They barely knew each other, and as today was her last day, how far could this interaction possibly go?
The thought had her skin f
laming and nipples puckering. She’d been reading far too many naughty romances, because the images in her mind were unlike anything she’d imagined before this holiday. No amount of shaking her head shifted those thoughts, but as he stepped closer her mind clouded.
“You arrived at the right time. I get to close up and give you a personal sampling.”
“Oh!”
Tom nodded slowly, still smiling. “Anything you like. I’m at your disposal.”
His blue eyes glinted playfully as he waited for her response. The need to unsettle him as much as he did to her bubbled to the surface. She licked her bottom lip, trying to channel the confident character in the romance book she’d started last night. “Um, anything?”
He took another step closer, tugging the apron over his head and tossing it onto the counter. “Yup. Wouldn’t want you leaving Brighton without trying everything out. Your experience wouldn’t be complete.”
Skye backed up against the far wall, trying to gain her composure because she was quickly losing it, along with the ability to breathe. Did he mean what she thought he did? Or was her mind making up scenarios on its own?
“I’m not sure - ”
“Shush,” Tom interrupted, dipping his finger into the mint choc-chip ice cream and bringing it to her lips. “Taste.”
Her tongue darted out before her brain caught up, lapping at the pad of his finger to taste the cool, fresh dessert. She hummed in approval, blushing when he swept his clean finger along her lip. “Good?”
“Yes, but I-”
Again he interrupted, moving his hand back down to the ice cream and returning it to her mouth. The tip now held raspberry ripple, which she swiftly demolished. She didn’t try to speak again, instead she followed his lead, licking each flavour from his skin. Their eyes remained on each other, studying every expression and sound, though Skye surmised it wasn’t difficult to grasp she was aroused. In fact, it was taking every ounce of self control to stop herself from rubbing her thigh against him to see if he was aroused too.
A deep thump filtered into the booth, as the music began to blast out on the stage. Tom didn’t notice or care as he continued to offer her different ice cream. It had become so hot in the small space that the dessert started to melt almost as soon as he scooped it up.
Smut by the Sea Page 4