I grin. “Wow, you really thought of everything. Are you sure I’m the first girl you’ve seduced out here?”
“Positive,” he replies. “Or I would have remembered to bring some wine and a bucket of ice, too.”
I snicker, as he lays his shoes down to hold down the other side of the blanket. “Trust me, this is more than good enough. I’ve never had anyone take me on a date like this.” I hesitate, worried I’ve misspoken. “Er. This is a date, right?”
“If you have to ask, I’m not doing it right,” he replies, looking pained.
“It’s not you, it’s me,” I reassure him, and hop up to help with the umbrella. But I turn out to be more a hindrance than help, so I lie back on the blanket and leave him to complete the setup on his own.
Before long, we have our own little paradise arranged. There are tea cakes and sandwiches in the basket, along with some thermoses of chilled iced tea. We prop those in the sand and arrange our feast on the blanket, safely away from the sandy ground. As we eat, we talk about our favorite things. His favorite color is blue; mine is red. His favorite animal is a golden retriever. Mine would be a cat.
When we get to favorite foods, I burst into hysterical laughter. “Your favorite food is lobster?” I ask him between gasps for air.
“What? It’s delicious. Better than pizza.” He nudges me with a bare foot.
My nose wrinkles. “It’s fine, I guess. It’s basically just a giant underwater cockroach.”
He presses a hand to his chest like I’ve personally offended him. “You cannot have eaten good lobster. Prepared correctly, in a butter sauce with just a hint of seasoning, when it’s fresh…”
“Do you realize how bougie you sound right now?” I ask, rolling my eyes and nudging him back. He catches my bare foot in one hand to stop me. “First the BMW, now lobster…” I catch his eye with a smirk. “For a pool boy, you have very fine taste.”
“What does that say about you?” he asks, lifting my ankle until he can lean in and kiss the tender skin on the inside. It makes my breath hitch. He notices, and with a pantherlike grin, he pushes our plates aside and leans down, kissing farther up my leg. His lips roam across my calf, then his tongue laps underneath my knee, tasting the underside like he’s licking an ice cream cone in the sun.
I shiver and find myself lying back along the blanket, unable to resist. “What if someone sees us?” I protest, tilting my head back to glance up over my chin at the road behind us. His car is still the only one shining in the sunlight along that makeshift parking lot. And I haven’t seen anyone else the whole time we’ve been eating. But still…
“If someone interrupts us,” he says, trailing his lips up to my inner thigh, now. Then higher. Higher. “I will personally make them regret ever setting foot on this beach.”
His voice, more of a growl now, sends a shiver of electricity through me. I love when he sounds like this. So possessive, so in-charge. I lie back fully now, stretched along the blanket, as he reaches up to grasp the hem of my dress. He hikes it up around my hips, and I gasp a little at being so exposed, out here in broad daylight.
“So you’re… prepared to… fight someone, to protect my modesty?” I manage, my voice trembling a little as his mouth reaches my upper thighs. He parts my legs, and his tongue darts out to trace the edges of my panties, making my breath hitch in my throat.
“Oh yes. Or worse.” He tilts his head up, his chin propped on my thigh for a moment, eyes burning into mine. “I would do just about anything to protect you, Sinclair.”
My belly tightens. My breath stops. He doesn’t know what he’s offering. He doesn’t know how real that need is.
I push the thought down, force it away. Try to be here. Stay with him, I tell myself. But with those words fresh in my mind, it’s difficult to do.
His mouth, at least, knows how to distract me. He hooks a thumb under my panties and with a swift, practiced tug, he yanks them down around my knees. I gasp, especially at the sensation of the sea breeze across my bare pussy. But he doesn’t leave me cool for long. His tongue drifts over to my mound, then lower. He licks each of my lower lips in turn, slowly, his tongue flattened like a blade as he does. It makes me shiver and groan a little under my breath.
“God, you are already soaked.” He shakes his head with a low, throaty chuckle. “Sinclair, for a virgin, you are a very dirty girl, do you know that?” His grin flashes, hungry.
I reach down, emboldened by his stares, by the way he treats me like something precious, like someone desirable. “I blame you,” I tell him, running my hands through his thick, dark hair. “You have me so damn distracted. All I can think about is earlier, in the pool house. The things you did with your tongue…”
“Do you want me to do them again?” he asks, his breath hot on my skin.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Then you’ll have to say the magic word.” He leans back a little, and at the same time, blows a cool breath of air across my pussy. It makes me gasp and shiver harder this time.
“Yes…. Please,” I add, at a glance from him. “Yes, please.”
“Yes please what?” He arches an eyebrow. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you, Sinclair.”
I swallow hard. But the command in his voice was steady, strong. There’s no disobeying it. “I… I want you to lick my pussy. Please,” I add, remembering.
He leans in and drags his tongue along me. I moan aloud. I forget that we’re on a public beach, that anyone could come down that road and stumble across us. All I can think about is the warm sun, the cool ocean breeze, and Ankor. Ankor’s tongue, Ankor’s hot breath, Ankor’s sculpted shoulders, the bulge of his muscles as he kneels over me.
“Lick my pussy until I come, Ankor,” I tell him. “I… I want to come for you.”
His hand slides between my legs. His fingers stroke along my slit, gathering moisture as he catches my juices on the tip of his finger. He moves in a slow, lazy motion, never taking his gaze from mine. “I plan to. But you’ll only come when I tell you to, understand?”
My eyebrows rise. I’m not sure I can do that—control it. But he’s staring at me, waiting for an answer, and the tone of his voice brooks no room for disagreement. It’s a command. Nothing more, nothing less. I lick my lips a little nervously and bob my head. “Yes. Sir,” I add, because it seems like the thing to say at this point.
To judge by the hot, hungry flash of approval in his gaze, it was the right thing. “Good girl.” He winks at me, and at the same time, curls his finger and presses it between my lower lips, into my pussy.
I moan a little as he inches it deeper, deeper, until he’s knuckle-deep inside me. He curls his finger again and gently strokes it along my inner wall, making my breath hitch and my hips rise up off the blanket automatically, as I press my body closer to his.
His mouth lowers again, and his tongue tracks the line between my navel all the way down to the top of my mound. I shiver, breath hitching again. “God, I love watching you come undone.” He’s grinning up at me again, his eyes focused in that way he does, laser-sharp, like I’m the only person in the world for him right now. Like everything else has vanished and it’s just the two of us.
His lips slide lower again, and his tongue grazes my clit, and I raise my knees on either side of his head, gasping, my hands buried in his hair once again. He licks me until I’m crying out faintly, his finger moving at the same time inside me, and then, without warning, he draws his finger out of me and pauses again, smirking at me. “You’re so sensitive, Sinclair. It takes you almost no time to get right up to the edge, you know that?”
“Don’t… stop,” I protest, trying to arch my hips toward him. All I can think about is the pulse between my legs, the urgent need to finish.
But when he lowers his hand back to my pussy, he just circles my lips slowly, teasing. “Your climax will be stronger if we delay, though.” His fingers press just a little harder, circling the edges of my swollen clit, and I moan aloud this time, u
nable to help it. He grins, enjoying what he’s doing to me. How crazy he’s making me. “A little frustration is a good thing, Sinclair.”
I bite my lower lip and try to will myself to stillness, to order my body to stop reacting so sensitively to him.
He flashes me a wink and leans down to run his tongue along my slit again. I inhale sharply but manage not to moan this time. “We’re going to go slow,” he tells me, his breath hot against my skin. “And you’re not going to come until I tell you to. Understand?”
“Y-yes,” I manage in a wavery voice.
He lifts an eyebrow. “Yes what?”
I press my lips together for a second before I lock eyes with him, steeling myself. “Yes, sir.” The words send a flutter through my stomach, at the power. At how much I enjoy this—him taking control, telling me what to do with my body. I’ve never let anyone do something like this before, and there’s something so freeing about it.
When he bends to press his face between my legs again, I force myself to hold still. But it doesn’t take long before that tongue of his makes me forget about it. I let my head fall back against the blanket. Behind the edge of the umbrella, I can see blue sky, and hear the crash of waves. But the only thing I can concentrate on is the way his tongue feels as he presses it between my lips and deep into my pussy, curling inside me, in and out, until I’m bucking my hips up toward his face again.
With a little growl at me, he pins my hips flat against the blanket, and I have no chance but to surrender any illusion of control. I let his tongue drive into me again and again until I’m right up at the brink of another orgasm, and faint little gasps come from my mouth with each thrust.
This time, when he pulls away, I cry out faintly in frustration.
“Not yet,” he says, and my whole body trembles. I’ve never done this before. Never delayed gratification. After all, it’s only ever been me touching myself, getting myself off. It’s nothing like this. I’ve never had anyone take me right up to the edge only to stop before I come.
I bite my lower lip and try my best to settle again, my pulse still racing, as he slides a hand down between my thighs to stroke me with his fingers this time. In and out. He finds the same rhythm again, his gaze fixed on me the whole time, white hot.
“God, I love making you squirm.” He grins down at me, and even though I don’t want to give in, I can’t help it. Just the words send a shiver through me, and his smile widens as he lets out a low, deep laugh. “You are too easy to bait, Sinclair.”
My eyes flash as they meet his. “Well… you are… damn… frustrating,” I spit out, especially because at that moment, his index finger finds that sensitive spot inside my pussy again and runs across it, the pad of his finger nearly making me lose control.
I’m shaking, close to the brink of an orgasm all over again.
He pulls his fingertip out of me.
“Just please let me come,” I groan.
“Oh I will.” He grins at me again. And then he starts to undo the clasp of his pants.
My breath speeds up, watching him. Frustrated as I am, I’m still hungry as hell—hornier than I think I’ve ever been. I can’t stop myself. I reach out to trace my hands over his body as he pulls off his shirt first, exposing those perfect washboard abs, the pecs I could bounce quarters off of. I trace my hands down his body until I find the little V muscles that point to his groin. And then I trace my way down those too, as he pushes his jeans down, and his boxers after them.
When his cock springs free, my breath catches again. I’d forgotten how big he is. How commanding. It makes my pussy ache, just remembering how completely he filled me earlier.
I want this. I want him. Over and over and over again…
“Fuck me,” I whisper.
He watches me as my hands slide the final inches down and my fingertips wind around the base of his cock. “Not yet.”
“If this is another delayed gratification thing,” I groan, but he’s reaching for his jeans, and I watch as he unrolls a condom along his length. I appreciate that, too. The way he’s the one to do it, without stopping to ask me or beg me not to use one. I might not have that experience personally, but to judge by my friends’ stories, it’s pretty common, even with hookups and one-night stands. Guys say they don’t feel as good.
I worry my lower lip with my teeth. “You don’t…” I hesitate. Meet his gaze. “You don’t have to, if you want. I mean, I’m on the pill.” I take it for a hormone imbalance, but same effect.
He holds my gaze for a long moment. “Are you sure?”
“I trust you,” I say. Then I swallow once, hard. “I mean. If you’re… are you…”
He laughs softly, taking pity on my hesitation, and leans down along my body to kiss the edge of my lips. “I’m clean,” he tells me, looking me right in the eye as he says it. Then he kisses my mouth, and I sink into him, my eyes fluttering shut.
I barely notice as he reaches down to remove the condom. But I do notice when he positions himself at my entrance, the tip of his cock alone already enough to spread my lips, to make me feel wet and tight and hot all over.
“Sinclair…” His eyes are on mine, demanding attention.
“Ankor.” I meet his gaze, our faces just the barest inch apart. His breath is hot on my face, and smells like mint and something else. Something underneath, smoky and salty and all him.
“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He presses into me then, slow, an inch at a time, and I moan aloud, no longer trying to restrain myself.
Without even thinking about it, I reach up to wrap my arms around his back, my hands finding purchase along his sculpted shoulder bones. My legs wrap around his waist, and his thighs are so thick and muscular that I can feel him stretching my hips as he pushes deeper, deeper… My moan gets deeper as he stretches the walls of my pussy, makes me feel totally and completely stuffed.
And fuck it feels incredible.
“God you feel so good,” I gasp.
“Tell me about it,” he says, starting to rock his hips back, out of me. Then he pushes back in, and when I look up to find him watching me, expectant, I realize that was a command, not an idle comment.
I swallow hard. I’ve never really done this whole dirty talk thing either. But with him it’s easy. It just flows out. Because whatever I say, I can see how much he likes it. “I like the feeling when you fill me up. Like I’m so full I could burst.”
He grins and pushes back into me, a little faster this time. “I love feeling your tight, wet pussy wrapped around my cock.”
My stomach does a flip, and my nerves sizzle. Hearing him say it only makes it that much hotter. He draws out of me and drives back in again.
“I love watching your face when you’re close to coming. The flush you get.” He pulls out, in again. He starts to move a little faster, and I raise my hips up to meet him. He grins, then. “It makes me want to give you what you want.” His hand slides between us, finds my clit. It’s so sensitive to the touch that I gasp even from the gentle graze of his forefinger. “Come for me, Sinclair,” he whispers.
“Now?” I pant.
But then he starts to move his finger. And starts fucking me again. The combination of his cock stretching me wide and his finger gently massaging my clit, over and over, makes my pulse start to leap. Before long I’m breathing hard and fast, and I remember how close to the brink I was earlier. How much closer I feel now.
“Not yet,” he says, and I don’t know if I can resist.
“I’m so close,” I gasp. “I’m going to come, I’m going to—”
“Not yet, Sinclair.” His finger stills, and I cry aloud, all frustration this time. But then he reaches down to grip my hips, and in one swift motion, angles me beneath him so my hips are arched up, and when he thrusts into me his cock drags along my front inner wall.
“Now,” he says, thrusting again and again. “Come for me now.”
It’s not hard. I release every muscle I didn’t even know I was clenching. I think I
say something. Nonsense maybe. All I hear is my voice, loud and sharp. All I feel is my nerves exploding with fireworks, stars sparking behind my eyelids as the orgasm hits me, stronger than any I’ve ever felt before.
He doesn’t stop moving. He just keeps fucking me, with abandon now, hard and fast. When I can move again, I wrap my legs tighter around him, brace myself against his shoulders and try to move with him, thrusting my hips in time with his. His hands are tight around my hips, pinning me to the blanket as he fucks me, until I feel myself nearing the edge again.
“That’s it, Sinclair.” He smirks at me, those eyes as hot as ever. “Come again, that’s a good girl.”
He barely has to say the words before I let another orgasm sweep through me. This one makes my toes curl, and leaves my hands trembling against his shoulders. Before long, he lies down along me and with a few last thrusts, wraps his arms tight around me and comes.
I feel it this time, the hot rush of his cum inside me. It makes my belly tense. It feels good. Hot and soothing after the way he’s been filling up my pussy. When he pulls out, our combined juices spill down my leg, and we both laugh a little, as he pulls me against his side, both of us coated in sweat.
He kisses my forehead, and I lay my head on his chest, right on top of those strong pecs, and listen to the steady thump of his heart beneath. “That was…” I start.
“Incredible,” he finishes for me. I feel his lips as he presses them against the top of my head. His hand massages my back in slow, soothing circles.
“Quite a date,” I say, tilting my head up to meet his gaze with a smirk.
He just laughs. “Was?” He arches an eyebrow. “It’s not over yet.”
* * *
We spend the rest of the afternoon circling the island. After we wade in some (very shallow) tide pools to clean off, he takes me to a busier beach. Not quite as touristy looking as the one outside the resort where we were, but there are still a lot of people here. A lot of locals, to judge by the cars they’re all driving, and the families with tons of kids racing around while the adults cook out of their trunks or set up dented surfboards they clearly own.
Married to the Secret Billionaire Page 5