Fantasy Island

by Mickey Miller

  His lips skimmed my calf as he crawled higher. “And.” He dropped a kiss to my knee. “You.” Another kiss to my inner thigh. “Are.” His mouth hovered over my pussy. “All. Mine.”

  His tongue lashed out and licked my pouty nether lips, and I squeezed my thighs around his face at the overwhelming urge to rub myself against his face.

  Connor slapped my thigh. “Open,” he growled.”

  I moaned and spread for him again.

  He rose between my thighs, as hard as marble veined with black ink. I drank in the sight of him, sketching his broad shoulders, and lean torso lightly sprinkled with red hair, before I stared down the massive pole rearing between his thighs.

  I needed him inside me in the worst way.

  He lewdly smirked at me, and circled his hand casually around himself. He gave a slow stroke which brought forth a glossy bead of pre-cum to the head. “Do you want this, Princess?”

  I hated how he made me beg, but loved it too. I rolled my hips upwards as if I could tempt him. “Yes!”

  “You were so feisty at the meeting.”

  I couldn’t believe he was bringing that up while he jerked his cock in front of me. How was I supposed to focus on what he was saying when he was waving that thing around in front of me?

  “They deserved it.”

  “Do you think they are here to sign me, or are they just jerking my string.” His tongue ran over his teeth as he accented “jerk” with a hard tug of his shaft.

  “Oh, my Lord, Connor stop talking!”

  He laughed and leaned over me. One hand braced near my shoulder, while he angled his cock right against my sex. I gasped. The only part of his body touching mine was the bulbous head of his dick rubbing over my slit.

  “You want this, Princess?”

  I moaned and wrapped my thighs around him. “Yes. Talk later!”

  He loved getting me like this, desperate and insatiable. I saw the truth of his enjoyment gleam in his hazel eyes. He pushed subtly, and that huge knob spread my lips slowly. I groaned at how good it felt, and he answered me. “I feckin’ love taking you bare like this.”

  It was so dangerous for us too. I knew it. Yes, I was on the pill, but it wasn’t 100% full proof. Yet, we both gambled each time he pumped inside me and filled me with his cum.

  “I love feeling you bare too,” I panted. I was a dirty girl underneath my trappings of respectability. It took Connor and his filthy mouth to bring it out of me, but now that it was? I never wanted to pretend to be anyone else.

  I never wanted anyone but Connor.

  “Feck, I can’t control myself with you.” He cupped my nape and pulled me into a desperate, tongue-seeking kiss right as he pumped forward. He slammed every veined inch of his dick inside me, filling me with that hot friction which drove me absolutely insane.

  My heels drove into his ass as I caged him between my thighs, and pulled him onto me. I knew why he was fucking me with my dress on. He wanted me to smell like him, like raw, filthy sex, for the rest of the day.

  For Connor, I was a good girl and gave him everything he wanted.

  “Fuck me, Connor, please.”

  He withdrew his hips and pounded into me deep and hard, hitting all my sweet spots, and making me scream so loud I was kind of glad it was in the middle of the day so the people in the rooms next to us wouldn’t hear my wails.

  “As you wish,” he taunted.

  Then, he gave me everything I wanted in return.

  There was no fixing my hair as we rode the elevator back down to the restaurant. I’d swiped a small brush I kept stowed in my purse through it, but I had sex hair. Connor grinned at me every time I fiddled with it, until I gave up and twisted it into a bun.

  “They are going to know what we just did,” I muttered as I smoothed my hand over my dress.

  Connor looked fresh as a daisy in his suit. I was on the edge of rumpled, and though I’d cleaned up the mess he’d made of me, the subtle aroma of sex still lingered in my nose.

  Connor wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. “They won’t. That requires them to get their heads out of their asses, and to see me as anything other than an Irish gutter rat. You heard them earlier when you gave me credit for this fight.”

  Though he was trying to pretend like their words hadn’t wounded him, I heard the hidden pain. I spun in place and ran my hand down Connor’s arm. “Don’t let them get to you.”

  Connor frowned and glanced away. “What if this doesn’t work?”

  I bit my lip. This wasn’t the first time I’d heard the doubt in his voice, but this was the first time he’d expressed it so bluntly. “What? The contract?”

  Connor shook his head. “Everything. What if I lose to El Toro? What if I don’t get the contract? Feck, Crystal, I’m not even sure if I believe they are here to offer one.”

  I winced. I was worrying about that too. The suits looked as if this was an all-expenses paid vacation, and not them about to shell out millions. “You can’t think of it like that.”

  “I can’t help it. I don’t want to be a fighter my whole life. Yeah, when I was younger I thought this was the shit. But I feel the stress it takes on my body. Feck, my damn knees hurt, and the thought of doing this until I can’t walk like all those famous wrestlers, or getting that brain disease which affects the football players, scares me. I want to retire on top, not stay in the game because I can’t afford to quit.”

  “Oh, Connor,” I said. I cupped his face and forced him to look at me. “Whatever happens, I’ll be at your side. You know that, right? If those jerks think they can string us along, they have another thing coming.”

  His mouth twitched in a smile. “Oh yeah? That sounds kind of serious. You committing yourself to my career? It could be a long one.”

  I bit my lip. I wasn’t committing myself to his career. But him.

  I swallowed, trying to force back the words that longed to spill free.

  I love you.

  I wasn’t saying it first. My smile felt brittle as I nodded my head. “Yeah, committing myself to your career. I’ll be your style coach as long as Jeff keeps paying me,” I joked.

  My joke sounded flat to me, and Connor must have heard the soft hitch in my words, because his eyes narrowed.

  “Well, if Jeff quits paying you, I’ll just put you on my payroll. You can thank me with a blow job later.”

  I punched him in the shoulder, and then immediately regretted it because it was like punching a wall. “You’re a pig.”

  “And you love it,” he said as he wound his arms around me and pulled me tightly into his chest.

  Tears suddenly stung the back of my eyes. I was setting myself up for heartbreak. I just knew it, but I couldn’t help myself.

  Connor had me caught on a line, and whether he knew it or not, he was playing with me.

  The elevator let loose a soft ding as we reached the lobby, and he let me go. Though the echo of his touch remained behind. Marshalling every bit of my tattered control, I walked out ahead of Connor and together we returned to the restaurant.

  The Zoreto representatives were still there with fresh cocktails, and curious eyes. A quick glance at my watch told me we’d been gone closer to forty minutes than twenty.

  Connor pulled out my seat with nonchalant chivalry, and I settled in. He sat beside me.

  “Have you had a chance to look over those e-mails and reports,” I said coolly.

  The first suit, also the one who had been egging on El Toro and Connor at the first meeting, met my eyes. I didn’t like him. He was everything that was wrong with the business, pandering to people, playing with their livelihood, and offering them gold that turned out to be fool’s gold.

  “We have,” he said.

  He flashed Connor a shark-like smile, and I just knew I wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

  15 - Connor

  Back at our hut, I was going bonkers. I hadn’t been this mad since I lost my only fight, years ago.

  �
��Those fucking Zoreto gobshites,” I huffed, running my hand through my hair as I paced back and forth outside of our place. I’d about leapt across the table and grabbed that Zoreto piece of shit by the throat when they’d told me the news, no exaggeration. Maybe the only thing that stopped me was the fact that Crystal was sitting across from me and I didn’t want her to see a man torn to shreds in broad daylight. As it was, the villagers who were walking by us were gawking at me, and I couldn’t blame them. I was yelling so loudly; my voice could probably be heard on the other side of the island.

  “It’ll be okay,” Crystal spoke softly, trying to pace back and forth with me. “We’ll figure something out.”

  “Figure something out? What are we going to figure out? That was the whole point of this bloody tournament! I put all my goddamn eggs in this basket, and it was going smooth as a baby’s bum until those feckin’ areshole cunts spoofed us so they could have a tax-free business expense of a vacation! They banjaxed the shit out of us, and I can’t feckin’ calm down.”

  “Are you speaking English right now?” Crystal snapped back, and it dawned on me that in my tizzy, I’d just spat out a whole bunch of Irish slang. It tended to happen when my temper kicked in.

  My chest heaved with anger and tension. I was so worked up I was sweating. Crystal, though, just stood there in the sun, her eyes wide, jaw open as she stared at me. Part of me felt like running to the edge of the island and maybe jumping the hell off the cliff, but then I wouldn’t get to see her sexy smile again. Or those legs. Feck. Worked up as I was, my dirty mind still raced with thoughts of her.

  She crossed her arms and took several steps toward me, focusing her blue eyes at me and squinting through the bright daylight.

  “I get it, Connor.” Her voice took on an authoritative tone. “You think I’m happy that I just spent a full fucking month working toward a golden egg that turned out to be hollow? Yeah, it sucks. I wouldn’t have come here if I would have known those guys were going to turn out to be a bunch of spoofing gobshites.”

  Through my haze of rage, I couldn’t help but quirk up one of the corners of my mouth when I heard my debutante say those words. I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm myself, but shit, I was still bleeding mad.

  “Let’s just get inside so I can change out of this feckin’ monkey suit.” I tugged at my collar. Who was I kidding anyway? I wasn’t some corporate businessman fit to wear an expensive suit. I was just some poor thug from Ireland who’d tricked the whole world. If I belonged anywhere, it was the ring.

  Inside our cabana, I quickly undid the buttons, huffing with each one. I’d never known it was possible to even undo buttons with rage, but that’s what I did. Once they were off, I flipped my shirt off, too, shucked my shoes and socks and unbuttoned my pants. I threw on a pair of basketball shorts, thinking I might go for a run to shed some of this heat bubbling up inside me again. One hundred million, out the window. Though it wasn’t even the money as much, as what it symbolized. It would have been the biggest deal of any MMA athlete, ever. Plus, the things I could do with that kind of money. I still had a dirt poor family back home. And then there was the dream house I needed to get for my ma.

  I spun back around, expecting to see Crystal’s half-dressed pretty ass, but she wasn’t inside. I’d been ruminating so much, I hadn’t noticed if she’d left or where she went.

  I looked for my running shoes and practically bounded outside when I had them on. I just needed to see her, get another look at her before I left to remind myself that no matter what happened, I had a smoking hot southern princess at my side. Maybe she was too proper and fancy, and needed ten different pairs of shoes on a weekly basis--so what. I wanted her. Hell, maybe I even loved her. Shit, love. It had been a while since I’d thought about that word.

  I was greeted outside by a fresh breeze, and glanced around the outside greenery, wondering where she was. I walked around to the back of the house, and what I saw sent all the blood in my body to my rapidly engorging cock.

  Crystal kneeled in the dirt, in a pair of denim short shorts, gym shoes, and a tank top, no bra. I could tell from the way her tits dangled straight down. I’d been so focused on training these last months, it hadn’t even fully registered with me that she’d started a garden behind her house--I honestly had just thought it was the neighbors tending to it.

  Feck, she even had on one of those visors, and even that looked sexy on her. Where the hell did she get that thing?

  I grinned, and looked to either side of the house. Even though we were outside, we were completely alone. Crystal was on her hands and knees, literally getting dirty.

  I couldn’t help myself. I reached my hand into my shorts and stroked myself. I loved the way her body moved and shifted when she was practically naked in those short denim things. And she wore flip flops, not a pair of those damn designer shoes that did nothing for me, other than the fact that they were fun to rip off.

  This was the Crystal I wanted. Sure, she could play up a show in public, dress to the nines in fancy outfits and stay in touch with the latest fashions, but the truth for me was I didn’t care about any of that. I wanted her just like this.

  With all the fury coursing through my blood right now, I didn’t just want her right now. I needed her like I needed my heart to pump.

  “Princess,” I croaked. Her eyes went wide when she spun around and saw me staring at her like a creep, with my hand down my shorts.

  “I didn’t know you were out here,” she responded, standing up.

  “I didn’t even realize you were a feckin’ farmer extraordinaire,” I quipped back, gesturing toward the nice little crop of two-week-old saplings she’d planted. “Tomatoes, eh?”

  “I needed something to do to let out the stress when I hated you,” she shrugged.

  I stepped toward her and we met on a grassy patch, nearly touching. I still had my hand down my shorts. “And what about when you stopped hating me?”

  She took her gloves off one at a time, all the while not losing my eye contact. I’d trained her well.

  She shrugged. “Then I needed something to do when I wasn’t fucking you.”

  I grinned, and for a moment my worries about my career melted away. Christ, I was the luckiest man on earth. She splayed her hand on my chest, and her touch lingered for a moment on the phoenix tattoo which was sketched across my skin. The tips of her fingers traveled slowly down my abs until they landed on the base of my cock. She gripped over my own hand and started stroking.

  “Ah feck, Princess,” I grunted.

  She kneeled before me, continuing to stroke me with her hand. “I’ll take things from here.”

  Crystal pulled my shorts down and licked around the v where my abs met my hips, teasing me with her tongue. There were so many things I wanted to tell her right now. Things that had been going through my mind that I needed her to know, but all my conscious thought dissolved when she slipped her wet mouth over my cock, taking the first couple of inches, then pulling up. She teased me by gracing just the head of my cock with her hot mouth. I closed my eyes and put my hands on my hips, loving the wet pop her lips made when she lost contact with my hard shaft.

  “Come on now, Princess,” I grinned. “Is that all you got?”

  I’d meant the words as a joke, but apparently to Crystal, me challenging her blowjob skills was no laughing matter, because with her next bop forward she took me deep in her throat and hummed, sending vibrations that started in my dick and reverberated through my entire body.

  All I could do was grunt and grip her shoulders as she impaled herself on my girth. She’d never taken me this deep. I wondered why she’d waited until now to show me the full scope of her talent. In any case, I couldn’t think of a fucking thing other than how fucking sexy she looked--and felt--with her damn nose pressed into my abdomen.

  When she pulled her head off my cock, she looked sexy as fuck with a little bit of my precum dribbling down her chin, gasping for air.

  “No idea how
I just took that much of you,” she breathed.

  I gripped her neck and guided her stare toward me so I could see those starry blues. Maybe she was still fighting her feelings for her true nature, so I would break it down for her.

  “Because you are secretly the dirtiest southern debutante who has ever graced Easter Island with your presence. Except now, you’re secret’s out. But don’t worry, it’s safe with me. Now come on.”

  I tugged her up gently to her feet, and kissed the feck out of her and slipped my hand down her short shorts and between her legs. “Wet as a pacific hurricane already,” I observed, then brought my fingers out with her juices on them. “Take off the shorts,” I added.

  As she removed them, I sucked the juices off my fingers that I’d just stole from her. “Your pussy has that sweet southern flavor, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you that.”

  She looked up from wiggling out of her shorts just in time to see me lick the last of her from my forefingers.

  She fluttered her eyelashes. “You have no shame, do you.”

  “Shame? I love the taste of my girl. Why would I be ashamed of that?”

  “I don’t know,” she shrugged, a little sheepishly.

  I stood there, fucking naked except for my damn running shoes. Crystal had no bottoms on, only wearing the earthy brown tank top with no bra. Her nipples revealed just how turned on she was in this moment, and my hard cock did the same to showcase my own horniness. I didn’t know if this was the right time, or place, but I needed to say the words.

  “Princess, I feckin’ love you,” I growled. I put my hand on the flesh of her hip and grabbed hold of it.

  “You...what?” Her eyes were wide with surprise.

  “You heard me. I love you. You’ve been mine since I laid eyes on you. And I’m not letting you go.”

  “Oh, my God, Connor,” she drawled in an accent that was notably more southern than she normally used. I wondered if she’d reciprocate my statement, but right now, I didn’t have time to worry about it. I’d sprung it on her in the middle of a fuck, and maybe she needed time to process.