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Tropical Tryst: 25 All New and Exclusive Sexy Reads

Page 173

by Nicole Morgan


  “Come on!” Elissa said with a giggle as she handed me a pisco sour. “It’s like Derrick said, you only live once. What more do you have to lose? Everything’s been taken from you anyway!”

  Well, she had me there! So, after the Finnish girl, whose name was Irma, finished painting my entire body blue, I stood up in my shorty-short PJ’s and a skimpy black tank top. Derrick stood up too. He was bluer than me, and the way the paint defined each ab and his pecs made my jaw drop and my sex soften.

  He came up and rested his hands on my hips. “Hello, Smurfette.”

  I giggled. “Hello, Papa Smurf.”

  His blue brows pinched. “Why am I Papa Smurf?”

  “Because you’re the oldest fucker here!” Matt said with a laugh, coming up and handing Derrick another beer. I felt something wet on my back, and when I turned around, I realized that Irma was painting my shoulder blades. Her accomplice was behind Derrick and painting him as well.

  “Well then…” Derrick said, chuckling and taking a big sip of his beer before he continued. “…In that case, come to Papa.” He pulled me close, not caring at all that our body paint was still wet, dipped me low and captured my mouth with his. He tasted like beer and toothpaste and, within seconds, I felt my muscles relax, and I wilted into his arms, returning the kiss, in turn, our tongues dancing to the beat of the techno pop.

  “Get a room!” Elissa hollered, which was followed by a slew of yelps and whistles from her posse.

  Derrick’s lips left mine, and I forced myself not to whimper, but I couldn’t help the pout. “We had one until you asshats decided to kidnap us. Now, as Papa Smurf, I say we have a karaoke competition. Who’s with me?”

  The entire crowd at the bar cheered, and soon the rave music died down, only to be replaced with more sing-along familiar tunes, like “Summer of ’69” and “Brown-Eyed Girl.”

  Much as we had the past two nights, we found ourselves drunk off our faces and having a terrific time getting there. Derrick was the life of the party, a blue-bodied Adonis who everyone wanted to be around. He was like honey, and the entire hostel were his bees, trying to get close enough, trying to get a taste. But not once did he ever forget about me, just when I thought he was going to take off into the sea of people to go and dance or do more shots, a hand would shoot out toward me, and he’d pull me into the mix. We were never far from each other; in fact, I’m not sure we ever stopped touching.

  But eventually the yawns crept up on us, and if I squinted hard enough, I saw the sky changing and dawn threatening. So, even though our roommates were all still having a good old time, singing off-key and incoherently to some Lady Gaga song, we bid our farewells and made our way back downstairs to our room.

  “That was fun,” Derrick said, stumbling on the last step. I grabbed his arm to help stabilize him, but he took that as an invitation and instead spun me around and drove me up against the wall, crashing his lips down onto mine, his hands making their way up and beneath my tank top.

  His teeth grazed my neck while his fingers found a hard and achy nipple. He pinched, and I squeaked, followed by a sigh, my body going limp against him.

  “You’re a machine.” My heart rate picked up inside my chest as his hands roamed my body, one still playing with my breasts as the other one made its way down into my shorts.

  “You love it.”

  I nodded fervently. “I do. I really, really do.”

  Ray had been an incredible lover, generous and patient and appreciative and always willing to try new things. But he wasn’t dominating the way Derrick was. He’d never pinned me up against the wall and made me feel like the sexiest woman alive, like if he wasn’t inside me in the next thirty seconds, the entire world was going to end.

  Ray had been gentle and worshipping, but he’d never excited me the way Derrick did. Even the first time we’d made love had been romantic and sensual. There was never any clawing or growling, never any raw, wild-for-one-another passion. We’d play now and then because he knew I liked it, and I think he did, too, but it was always me initiating it. It was always me saying, “Hey, how about you tie me up tonight and use the riding crop?” And he would, and we’d have fun, but the drive, the inherent basic animal need to fuck was never in his eyes the way it was in Derrick’s.

  Derrick had the sex drive of a fourteen-year-old who’d just touched his first boob, whereas Ray could go once, maybe twice a day if I were lucky. So even though I missed my husband every day, I couldn’t deny the way my body, and often my heart, felt when I was with Derrick. I felt as if I’d finally met my match, someone whose needs mirrored my own, whose urges and cravings were my urges and cravings, someone who was always up for it and would never turn me down.

  “Will you let me try something?” His breath warm on my neck.

  “Yes.” Not even caring what it was. I just wanted him to touch me, to get me to the point where I no longer cared about anything but his body making my body hum.

  “Do you even want to know what it is?” His voice like a zephyr in my ear.

  “No…I trust you.”

  He groaned. “Oh, baby.” He scooped me up and carried me down the hallway to our room.

  We didn’t even bother to shower first before falling into bed. The sheets were covered in blue paint within seconds, and our faces and bodies were smeared as well, as we humped and rocked against one another. Peeling away clothes and attacking one another with our mouths. And then he slowly sunk onto his belly and poised his face at the juncture of my legs. I looked down at him, swallowing in anticipation, but also missing the weight of him. I loved it when he covered me. I felt safe. A curious finger slipped inside, and I clenched my muscles around it, shamelessly lifting and bucking my hips, begging him for more.

  His laugh was rough and husky as he continued to explore. “You’re so wet.”

  “Mhmm.” I pushed up again, searching for friction.

  “You’re wet for me.”

  “Mhmm.” I was frantic, desperate for more, but he wasn’t giving it to me. He was teasing me, torturing me, and damned if I didn’t love it. My body was already on the cusp, and I’m not sure it’d even been sixty seconds.

  “I want to make you scream, Piper.” The man and his dirty talk. Just his words alone sent a stab of need straight to my clit.

  I bit my lip; he was just gently swirling his finger around my entrance. “Yes…please.”

  “Let me know when you feel it,” he murmured, biting my inner thigh.

  “Feel wha —oh!”

  He grinned. “That.”

  “What…what are you doing?”

  “You’ve never had anyone press on your G-spot before?” he asked, before flicking his tongue out like a serpent and letting it hit the tip of my clit. My leg spasmed, and he snickered low and deep against the top of my mound.

  “I-I guess not. I mean guys have tried…b-but I’ve never felt…whoa…I’ve never felt anything like this before. Does that mean they weren’t able to find it?”

  “Maybe. Does it feel good?”

  I nodded. It felt bloody incredible. A pressure unlike I’d ever felt before. There was no rubbing, no circles, he was merely pushing against my anterior wall as hard as he could, and my body was slowly getting ready to implode.

  “It’s like a come button. I…I feel the orgasm brewing inside me; I feel it building. But…but it’s not like any orgasm I’ve had before. I feel like I need to pee. Stop. I don’t want to pee.”

  But he didn’t stop; he just kept pressing. Wedging in a second finger and pressing even harder, all the while that sneaky tongue would randomly dart out and just graze my clit. Nothing for too long, just enough to wake up every nerve ending in my body and put it on high alert.

  “Do you want me to stop, Piper? Or do you want to have the most intense orgasm of your fucking life?”

  Well, when he put it that way. “I don’t want to pee, though. I feel like I’m going to pee.”

  “You won’t pee. That’s how you’re supposed to
feel. That means I’m hitting the right spot. I promise, you won’t pee, and even if you do, I don’t care.”

  My head thrashed against the pillow. The orgasm was right around the corner, I could feel it, hell I could practically see it, it was going to be huge.

  “Piper?”

  “Yes!” Knowing that he wanted me to beg him, and desperately wanting to give him what he wanted. “Make me come, Derrick, please make me come!”

  He growled against my clit. “Fuck, I love it when you beg.” He pressed even harder inside me, let his tongue dart out and brush my clit, one, twice, three times, and I then, I lost my mind.

  An endless of parade of divine sensations swirled around inside me as the orgasm took hold, unfurling until my entire body felt like one giant maelstrom of pleasure, from the tips to my toes to the ends of my hair. I arched my back and pressed up into his face and fingers, while my legs cramped and my toes curled. I gripped the sheets until my knuckles ached, but the orgasm just kept on going. I heard the blood pumping in my ears, while my ragged breath and strident cries threatened to wake the neighbors. But none of that mattered, what mattered was Derrick, and how incredible, how alive he made me feel.

  It was several moments before I was me again, before I was Piper and not just a shell of my former self, while my soul floated up overhead, watching my body writhe in pure unadulterated ecstasy.

  His head popped up like a pleased-as-punch prairie dog, and he scooted up to join me at the top of the bed. “Good?”

  I swallowed. “I believe a wise man once said to me… and I’m paraphrasing here, no, a blowjob is good. That wasn’t a blowjob, that was a complete and total mindfuck with a blowjob thrown in. That was insane. Holy fuck, man, where the hell’d you learn to do that?”

  He started to laugh. “Well, that wasn’t a blowjob, first of all. That was a finger—”

  But I cut him off. “Oh God, please don’t call it a finger-blast or a finger-bang. We’re not in high school, and I freaking hate those terms. They’re so…”

  “Dirty?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, dirty.”

  He smiled wolfishly. “Oh, but baby, I thought you liked dirty.”

  I made a face. “Some dirt I like. But I hate the terms finger-blast and finger-bang.”

  “Then stop saying them.” He chuckled. “How about we just call it straight up fingering?”

  I made another face similar to the one before. “Hand-job?”

  He frowned in thought. “But it wasn’t really a hand-job. A hand-job for you would be fisting. Do you want me to try fisting?”

  “Hell no!” I pushed him playfully in the chest.

  “But you want me to continue to call it a hand-job?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, that sounds classier than finger-bang.”

  “Classier?” He leaped up onto his knees, a cute little what the fuck? expression on his Face. “You think the term hand-job is classier than finger-bang?”

  “Stop saying finger-bang!”

  “Finger-bang! Finger-bang! Finger-bang!”

  “Oh, my God!” I couldn’t hide my smile; the man was absolutely adorable. “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-one, going on fourteen. How old are you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Just the other day you were thirty-one going on seventy-five, by the way. You were talking about millennials and their disgusting Randy Marsh Ball Pants. What changed?”

  His face sobered, and he paused for a moment. He finally shrugged and plastered on a big, perhaps a tad too big to be genuine, smile. “Call it a brush with mortality. You, me, we had a gun pointed at us recently… twice! Makes you stop and think about life a little differently, no? That none of us is here forever, and we never know when our last day on earth is going to be, or how or when we’re going to go. Might as well embrace the fun and adventures when they present themselves.”

  “Is that why you were all of a sudden the Smurfiest Smurf at the party? Dancing and singing, doing tequila shots and crazy back-flips into the pool? Because you think tomorrow we might get shot by some deranged gunman?”

  “Well that was a tad morbid and rather graphic, but yeah. We only live once; why not make it the best life possible?”

  I had a feeling there was more to it than our recent brush with death, but I didn’t want to press. Even though we knew each other in the most intimate way possible and had been spending every waking moment together, I still didn’t know very much about Derrick and didn’t quite feel comfortable enough to ask him more; I certainly wasn’t quite ready to reveal all of my secrets.

  But his face softened, and his eyes grew dark. “Ready for round two? I feel most alive when I’m inside you, hammering your body into a screaming, back-clawing mess. Until the only name you know is mine.” The man certainly had a way with words. I needed to find one of his articles and see if he was equally passionate and articulate about monkeys in the Cloud Forest of Monteverde as he was about making me come. He spread himself on top of me and pressed me into the mattress.

  “You’re insatiable!” I sighed, my body betraying me and rocking up into his grinding pelvis.

  His nostrils flared as he poised himself at my entrance. “I also want to hear you beg. Now tell me how badly you want my cock inside you.”

  CHAPTER 8

  We’d bid farewell to our new friends and Canadian heroes the next morning, with tears in our eyes and promises of keeping in touch. If it hadn’t been for Elissa and Matt and their constant positivity and zest for adventure, had they not rescued us from that police station, I’m not sure what would have become of Derrick and me. We certainly wouldn’t have had nearly the amount of fun we did partying every night at the hostel. And they’d managed to keep our minds mostly off the bad things; they helped us keep our heads in the clouds and focus on the good parts of the trip, the benefits of backpacking, like making new friends and exploring new countries. So, after many tears and endless hugs, we said our goodbyes, thanking them again for their kindness and wishing them safe travels home.

  As the jet started to taxi down the runway, the flight attendants took their positions at the front and went through the motions.

  “It says here the Cusco airport can be dangerous to fly into due to intense cloud coverage and bad weather. And that planes only take off from the east, so if winds are bad, flights can be delayed or canceled altogether.” The Ultimate Traveler was back up, and Derrick was nose deep, his eyes flying across the pages.

  I reached up and took the book from him, closing it and stowing it in the front pocket of the seat in front of us. “Yeah…” I started, cuddling in closer to him. “That is not something I want to hear right now.”

  He gave me a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

  I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth and then tilted my head so I could whisper in his ear. “I’d much rather hear about what kind of filthy things you’d like to do to my body if given the chance. We’ve already established that we both like it rough, and I’m not against a little play and some toys. What kind of things are you into?” I needed to get my mind off the flight and apparently now the possibility of a treacherous landing, and sex and dirty talk were a great start.

  His eyes grew dark as he turned away from the man beside us, practically pinning me against the window with his hard body. “Oh, Piper…” His hand rested on the top of my thigh. “…All kinds of wicked things.”

  I licked my lips. “Yeah? Like what?”

  “Have you ever been flogged?”

  I swallowed and nodded. And I’d loved every goddamned minute of it.

  He made a satisfying rumble in his throat and nodded. “Hmm, well I’d love to flog your pretty little ass. Get it nice and pink for me. Then maybe I’d slip some beads in there, would you like that?”

  I looked right up into his eyes and nodded again.

  His throat bobbed. “You’re killing me right now. You know that? All this talk, you feigning innocence and purity over there, it’s enough to make my fucking balls explode.”
His voice was barely a whisper, but his amused irritation still came across in his tone.

  I grinned at him. “Keep talking there, stud.”

  His eyes flashed fire. “Bossy little thing. You’ll pay for that.”

  Oh, I hoped so.

  “Then maybe I’d take you from behind, fuck you hard and fast, and then just as you’re about to come, pull out the beads so that you practically lose your mind.”

  I nodded and pressed my breasts against his arm. “I’d like that.”

  “I know you would.”

  I swallowed. “And then, what?”

  “And then I’d flip you onto your back, slide a vibrator into your hot, tight, wet little pussy, one that hits your G-spot, because now we know you know how to come when I’m bearing down on it. And then I’d suck that sweet little clit of yours until you were screaming my name and bucking into my face. I want you to forget your own name. I want the only name you can remember, the only name you know how to say, to be mine.” Holy mother of God, all the moisture just left my mouth. I wanted that too, so badly.

  I crossed my legs and squeezed, desperate for some friction. My pussy lips were wet and my cheeks warm. I was going to lose it here and now pretty quick if we didn’t switch gears. What had I been thinking? The man was a closet sex beast. The nerdy nice guy with his nose in a book and everybody’s best friend, the life of the party during the day, and then at night…watch out, the ravenous alpha sex beast with a taste for flesh came out, and there was no stopping his passion. But it would seem the beast was willing to get a head start today and didn’t feel like waiting for nightfall. Would he whisk me to the lavatory for a quickie? A part of me wanted to find out.

  His mouth was right next to my ear, and he chuckled, his breath warm and inviting against my skin. “Hot and bothered, are we?”

  I swallowed. “Maybe a little…”

  He laughed again and brazenly reached up and pinched my nipple. I practically came on the spot. “Well, that will teach you for wanting to talk dirty. You’d never win that game against me, sweetheart, not in a million years.”

 

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