by Ann Steele
We trailed back in heavy silence. Abigail's eyes watery and red, she sniffled, wiping the back of her hand over her eyes, allowing me to carry her back down the rocks without her usual protests.
Hand in hand, we sat in the side, the fire fading behind us, our eyes locked on the still ocean. Abigail sighed from time to time but she never uttered the words racing through my mind. It's all your fault, Killian. If you weren't so desperate to impress and just booked a commercial flight like a normal fucking person, we'd be in a five star hotel in Panama now. Or maybe the men trying to kill me would take a commercial flight down, too. If they were willing to innocent Abigail to get me, who knows how far they're willing to go. I'm not even sure it's about business. It's not a stretch to imagine I fucked the wrong man's wife and now Abigail is paying the price.
My shoulder's curved forward, I rocked in the sand,
"I broke up with my ex a few weeks ago," Abigail said, clenching her jaw, squeezing my hand tight. "He's an ex-con, he was done for carjacking and assault before I met him and served three years. He was calling me the morning of the crash. He would get jealous and...."
"It's not your fault," I interrupted. "You're ex didn't do this. It was a rare mechanical failure."
She heaved a sigh of relief, her shoulders sagged, her head dropped to my shoulder.
"Let's go for a swim," I suggested, keen to break the cloudy mood hovering over us.
"Will you ever stop trying to get me naked, Kilian White?" She smirked.
"Only once you're already naked," I grinned, dropping my pants. She couldn't help letting her eyes roam my tight ass in my white cotton underwear.
"Stop stripping me with your eyes,” I joked, "you're objectifying me. This is sexual harassment."
I raced to the ocean, my toes sinking into the soft, warm sand as I ran. Behind me the tell-tale crinkle of fabric crunching as it dropped to the ground came from Abigail's direction. I waded waist deep into the ocean before turning around. Her hair billowing behind her, Abigail bounded over the sand, dressed only in a white, satin bra and matching panties. Her tits bounced and jiggled as she ran. Her waist is slimmer than I imagined, those impressive tits she has make everything look bigger. There's never been a body more suited to the center fold of Playboy than Abigail Koch's.
"It's cold," she shivered, joining me in the depths. Schools of fishes swam around our toes, exploring the strange intrusion on their usually peaceful blue world.
"Can you catch one, like Tom Hanks on Castaway?"
"You're just trying to get me to make a fool of myself, aren't you?"
She shrugged, a wicked grin on her lips. It's how I got girls in high school and college, before I had the fast cars and designer suits that attract women like magnets, it didn't fail me then, and it might work now. I raised my hands above my head, flexing my abs. Abigail raised her eyebrows, I dove back, landing on my ass with a splash. A loud burst of laughter rumbled from her chest, shaking her tits in her satin bra.
"One fishy for the lady coming up," I joked, holding my nose submerging my head under the water. The fish darted, easily gliding out of my grasp, their slick, scaly bodies slipped and slid through my fingers.
Chapter Seven – Abigail
Killian pressed his smooth, hairless chest against my back. When he suggested sleeping half-naked, buried under a mountain of his expensive suit jackets, I was certain he was up to his usual tricks, but we played in the ocean for hours, both in our underwear, Killian splashing and diving like a school boy. Though just as breath-taking as ever, when he was playing the fool, his God-like looks and body were less intimidating than normal. All day, apart from a few choice comments, making me want to punch him in his stupid face, he's behaved like perfect gent, going above and beyond to care for me, providing me with coffee, carrying me over high, rugged rocks like I weighed nothing, amusing me and comforting me when I admitted my suspicions about Lance. We both knew the plane didn't suffer mechanical failure. It was new, well-kept and loved by Killian like a mother loves her first born infant. Someone sabotaged the plane and now my admission is out in the open, we both knew who it was. Still, I appreciated him pretending it wasn't my fault.
His heart thumped against my back, my skin heated by his body, I rested my head on his forearm, his fingers a hairsbreadth away from my lips. My core burned, a tense heat built between my thighs, Killian reached his left around, stroking his firm finger over my jawline. I closed my eyes, holding my breath.
"The stars are beautiful tonight," he whispered, his hot breath tickling my ear. A shiver ran down my spine. He rolled to his back, pulling me with him so my head landed on his chest, with his heart thudding in my ear. The pile of suit jackets slipped, exposing my saltwater stained bra. Killian's teeth pressed into lower lip, his abs tensed, and heart rate soared, but he kept his eyes fixed on the midnight black above us.
Star glittered and dazzled, twinkling in the light of the full, silver moon, illuminating the cloudless sky. At our feet, the fire Killian lit before the sunset burned down, its flickering flames dwindled. They reflected as specks of gold and amber in Killian's deep green eyes. Matted with sea water, his almost black hair hung over his forehead.
His hand drifted to my stomach. I inhaled, Killian's masculine scent filled my nose. Slowly, as if testing the water, waiting for me to bite his head off, his fingers crawled up my skin, leaving flurries of goose pimples in their wake. The handcuffs and leather flogger he packed lay on the sand below us where I threw them in my temper, lit up by the glow of the crackling fire warming my toes. Despite myself, I wondered how it would feel to be chained to Killian's bed, at the mercy of his surely expert touch. Lance always failed to make me come, rolling off me, snorting and snoring while I finished myself off. I don't imagine Killian is a selfish lover. You don't get women gushing to gossip rags about your prowess in bed if you fail to make them come.
His fingers reached the underwire of my bra. He paused, my heart fluttered under the weight of his hand. He cupped my chin, tilting my head to meet his gaze. Desire and lust darkened his emerald eyes so deeply, they were almost black
"Do you have any idea the effect you have on me?" he growled, grazing his lips against mine.
I shook my head, my body quivering. I knew he wanted me but only to add a notch to his bedpost. He's probably fucked all his female employees. I'm nothing special, not compared to the supermodels and Playmates he usually beds. I licked my lips, willing myself to believe his words, forcing myself to believe he'd rather be with me than the Amazonian twins he was pictured with a few days ago. He rolled to his side, his thick erection pressed into my thigh. Coffee and peanuts, our only source of sustenance flavored his breath.
His fingers nudged their way under the wire in my bra, stroking the underside of my breast.
"You have no fucking clue how hot you are, do you?"
I closed my eyes, shaking my head.
"Abigail, these tits of yours, that perfect round ass you're lying on have driven me to distraction ever since I laid eyes on them."
"You think I have a fat ass?" My eyes flew open, locking on his face. His lips stretched into a grin, his tongue poked between them as he chuckled.
"I think you have a perfect ass. If you ever diet, I'll kidnap you, chain you up in my dungeon and force feed you pizza and cheesecake."
"Yes, please," I said.
He lifted the underwire of my bra enough to slip his hand under the smooth, satin fabric. His skin was soft and warm, his fingertips pinched hard around my nipple. Teeth bared, he dipped his head, gripping my brain his lips, pulling the cup down so breast bounced free. He leaned back admiring me the way a lion admires his kill, his eyes wide, fixed on my breast.
"God, they're even better than I imagined," he purred, "so full and round and your nipples are amazing." His hand slipped under my back, lifting me from his leaf bed, moving my nipple to his mouth. He clamped his lips around it, washing it with a heat that spread through my body.
Waves of bliss washed over me like the ocean rolling over the shore, my legs turned to jelly, I locked my arms around his neck, holding him in place, arching my back to give him better access. I'm will fuck my boss, and no, I'm not sorry, my rules don't count, not when we're so far from civilization and besides, Killian is no loser.
I melted into him, the stars above dancing in eyes. He caught my nipple between his teeth, swirling his tongue over the tip. His teeth grazed my areola, adding a sting to the smooth pleasure of his tongue caressing me. I gasped, struggling for breath against the tension flowing through my body. One hand dipped to the waist band of my soaked white panties, pushing its way under the shiny fabric without hesitation. He quickly found my clit, drawing masterful circles around the bundle of nerves.
"Yes," I moaned, granting him permission go further. He moved his hand down my back resting me on the crisp pile of leaves, his touch stroking down my side, until he came to my panties, he slipped them down my thighs, letting me wriggle them off my legs.
I shouldn't be letting this happen but if I stop him now, I will burst. He had condoms in his luggage, for that alone I could kiss him. Two thick fingers pushed inside of me, their way eased by the slick juices dripping from my pussy. He curled them into a come here position brushing my g-spot, the heel of his hand rocked against my clit.
"You're so tight, I can't wait to be inside you."
"Then get inside me," I demanded. His erection still pressed into my leg. I tried to imagine its size from the space it took up against my skin. It big alright, bigger than any I've ever had. So big, I'm not sure it will fit inside me but damn, do I want to find out.
"Not yet," he smirked, kissing me, "you come first. I'm not sure I'll last long enough to make you come if I fuck you now. I've waited so long..."
"Two days, Killian, you waited two days."
"I not used to waiting two minutes to get what I want and I don't usually want what I want as much as I want you."
He stroked my g-spot, stimulating my clit, his mouth alternating between my nipples and my mouth. I was a mess of sensation, my body tensed in his masterful hands. I threw my head back, yelling his name, the climax shattering through me so strong I almost forgot to breathe. No man ever made me come the way Killian just did. I almost regretted making him wait. If I'd fucked him over his desk during our first meeting who knows how many bone melting orgasms he would've given me by now. No wonder his exes go racing to journalists, sex like this is the kind you want to shout from the rooftops.
"Now, I will fuck you," he said, kneeling between my legs, his eyes locked on my swollen nipples as I panted for breath. He pulled a condom from his loose cotton pants. A thick V of muscle nestled between his hips, like you see on swimwear models. I panted, riding the aftershocks of my climax, my eyes zoomed on the long, hard cock tenting his pants. He shrugged them down his hips, stepping out of them with grace. Stood, back lit by the moon, with the dark, night ocean behind him and his hair messy from swimming earlier, he appeared more than God than man and yes, he does have a full, thick nine and half inches to boast. He slipped the condom down his shaft, kneeling himself between my open legs again. I swallowed eyes closed, lost half in lust, half in panic. I'm no virgin but nor am I a porn star, can I take a cock as big as Killian's? I guess I'm about to find out, He pulled my ass off the sand, lifting my ankles to his powerful, broad shoulders.
He nudged his way in slowly, allow me to adjust to his massive size. My pussy burned as it stretched to its limit to accommodate his girth. His finger reached for my aching, over stimulated clit, I fought to buck him off or close my legs, but he held me fast, drawing slow, sensual circles around the small bundle of nerves. His cock hit my cervix, he pulled out, leaving a strange emptiness in his wake, before slamming, and balls deep back in, tearing a scream from me. The assault in my clit turned from torture to bliss, he eased his finger around the edge, giving just enough stimulation to leave me teetering on the edge of a second climax. I bit down on lip, fighting against the tension coiling in my limbs, my toes curled over his shoulders. Killian's hips rocked rhythmically, ploughing into me with long, hard thrusts, each one smashing his cock into my cervix adding a bite of agony to the bliss emanating from my clit.
"Oh, God," I moaned, arching my back, digging my heels into his shoulders, lifting my ass off the leaf bed. Killian gritted his teeth as my pussy clamped around his cock, pulsing with every wave of climax that rushed through me. He gripped my shoulders, his fingertips sinking into my soft flesh, his lip clamped between his teeth. His dick throbbed inside me. We came together, collapsing in a sweaty heap on the plane blankets, the stars shining down on our naked, glistening bodies.
"That was way way better than it was in my imagination," he grinned curling me into his arms. I slept soundly, my naked body cradled in his tender embrace, his head snuggled into my side. Even in sleep, he wore a wicked, come fuck me grin. The man is sin itself. One I wouldn't mind partaking in again and again.
Chapter Eight – Killian
A low rumble echoing through the clear blue sky woke me. I raised my hand to my forehead, shielding my eyes from the harsh glare of the tropical sun. A tiny speck of white glinted on the horizon, growing as it moved closer and closer. I squinted trying to work out if it was a gull, praying it was a plane. Abi groaned, turning away from the sun, her naked ass brushing my crotch as she moved. My dick sprang to attention.
"Not now," I sighed addressing my member like it was a sentient being, in control of its arousal. The spent, cum filled condom from last night rested on the sand by the charred remains of our fire. Abigail's lips, puffy from hard, passion filled kisses parted, a dry tongue snaked over her lips.
"Make some more water, Jesus," she moaned. I turned back to the sky, narrowing my eyes on the white fleck. The fleck drifted closer, moving with a deliberate precision the gulls lacked. I bolted upright, grabbing my pants, throwing a jacket over Abigail's naked body.
"I'm hot," she whined, tossing it to the floor. I ignored her, watching the sky for the white fleck. It moved closer.
"Abi, it's a plane," I yelled. She jolted, grabbing the jacket.
"No, I'm naked, I can't be rescued naked.”
She scrambled in the sand for her clothes. Grains of sand flew into the air as she scrabbled around. Torn between helping her and attracting attention I frowned, rubbing my hand over three days of stubble.
"Killian, wave to the plane, they might not see us," she snapped, yanking on her panties. I raced to the ocean, waving my arms, yelling so load I shredded my throat.
"Help, we're here, down here."
It flew overhead, vanishing behind the trees and jagged rocks of our tiny little island. A sob flew from Abi's lips.
"They've gone," she cried, "they didn't see us."
"They did, they're looking for a place to land," I said, my heart in my mouth. It's what I would do, circle the island, scope out potential runways, but even though I'm an asshole, I still dip the plane or so something to signal I was returning. I wouldn't leave two people stranded, facing death, their hopes shattered.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," I scanned the sky, my ears pricked for the sound of an engine. Gulls ducked and rolled in the air. The slow, morning waves crept over the sand. Fully dressed, Abigail gripped my hand, chewing on her cracked lips.
"There," she yelled bouncing on the spot, squeezing my hand so hard I was sure my bones would crack. Lower in the sky, landing gear extended, the plane rounded the corner, gliding down to the smooth, golden sand.
Hawaii Search and Rescue was emblazoned in red on the side of the plane. It came to a halt in the tide. Abi dropped my hand racing to the plane. The door opened, a middle-aged Hawaiian man popped his head out.
"Abigail, Abigail Koch?" He asked, checking something on the computer tablet he held.
"Yes, yes, it's me, Abigail Koch and Killian White. Our plane crashed but Killian rowed us here on a life raft."
"Katya Sutton
reported you missing two nights ago. We've searched for you ever since, but Miss Sutton told us you were flying to Panama from New York City."
"Our plane lost power," Abigail told him. He frowned towards me, shaking his head. We both knew I was miles off course. Hawaii is nowhere near where we should have been when my plan stopped pinging air traffic control.
"The compass was messed up," I said, defending myself. "Someone sabotaged my plane; did you find it? Did the distress signal work?"
"No and no, sir. A fishing boat reported flames coming from the atoll yesterday but couldn't get his vessel close enough because of the reef. You're lucky it didn't catch your life raft."
"We were lucky, period," I said, displeased this guy appeared to think I was something less than heroic.
"No," Abigail smiled, reaching her hand out to me, "we're not lucky, I had you and you saved me. That's not luck, Killian, that's you being amazing."
I dropped her hand like a hot stone, stepping back. Hurt flashed in her eyes. The co-pilot thrust a large bottle of water at her. Droplets of condensation drizzled down the side of the ice-cold plastic. Abi tore at the lid, guzzling down a stomach full of water, forgetting my rejection of her immediately. Don't get me wrong, women calling me amazing is never a bad thing and let's face it, it's true but there was something about the way Abigail said it that set my teeth on edge, something intimate. She passed the bottle to me. The co-pilot jumped down, opening the rear door, holding Abigail's hand to hoist her onto the plane.
My ribs squeezed tight around my lungs, my lips tightened. Like that fat, aged nobody with his bald head glinting under the morning sun would ever stand a chance with Abigail Koch. I strode to the plane, sipping on the water, glowering at the pudgy dough ball.