by Whitley Cox
“You’re incredible,” he grunted above me. His hands came up and under my arms, and he pulled me from my spot in the water and plunked me back up on the ledge. Then, with the grace of a pole vaulter, he placed on hand on the ledge and swung his big, sexy frame up and out of the pool until he was standing next to me. I blinked up at him, the water from the falls still spraying around us and catching periodically on my lashes.
He slid onto his butt, then lay down, his head resting on his bunched up shorts. “Come on over here, gorgeous, and bring that sweet pink pussy of yours. Sit on my face.”
I blushed at his filthy candor but did as he said. Shuffling over the few feet to where his head was, I lowered myself down over his face. My knees brushed his ears. His breath was warm on my center, and when his tongue darted out, a shiver soared through my body.
Yes. All of this. I wanted all of this.
“Lower,” he said as his hands came around my hips and his fingers dug into my ass, urging me to sink deeper over his mouth. He kneaded my cheeks and rocked me forward. Lips—decadent, sensual, plump and talented lips—sucked on my clit and pulled. Then his tongue started to lash back and forth across my tender bud. He feasted on my sensitive core until I was gasping and forced to hinge forward over his head and plant my hands on the cool slate rock. I bucked and thrust against him, loving that delightful brush of his beard on my labia as they glided across his lips. He made his tongue go rigid, and with the swiftness and speed of a jackhammer, he started to jut it in and out of me, fucking me hard and fast, until I was a quivering mess and but a breath, but a blink, but a thought away from an orgasm.
I pressed my forehead against the rock, spreading my legs wider so his tongue could fuck me deeper. He brought his hand up from where he’d been gripping my ass and started to flick my slick and engorged clit, twiddling it against the back of his finger quickly. Then just when he knew I needed that extra push over the edge, Tate brought my nub between his thumb and forefinger, pinched, pulled, flicked again, and I detonated.
No. Detonated is the wrong word. I fucking exploded. I went off like a missile shot directly into a warehouse full of fireworks located in a city doused with lighter fluid.
Pleasure, ecstasy, rapture. You name it, I had it. God? Yeah, I think I met him. Angels with harps? Heard them loud and clear; those ladies were in my head and singing their sweet, sweet song as the orgasm speared through my core and blossomed out in white starbursts through my body. I shook on top of Tate’s face as he continued to fuck me with that glorious tongue. In and out, he never ceased; even through my panting and screaming, he just kept going. His thumb and finger twiddled and flicked my clit, pulling on it as it swelled and hardened with my release.
I filled his mouth with my climax, and he just lapped it up and hummed, moaning in satisfaction as I came down from the mountaintop. I went to move off of him, but he held me in place with his hand on my ass and just continued to feast, to lick and fuck and plunder.
I mewled and tried to pull away. “No . . . no more. I can’t.”
“Yes, more. Always more, Parker. Come again for me, baby.”
He ran his chin over my clit, and I let go one more time.
Moments later, once I found my head again, Tate lifted my hips up and slid out from beneath me. He was wearing a grin as wide as his cock was long, and his whole face glistened with my releases. He was about to lick his fingers but then thought better of it.
“Open your mouth and taste yourself, baby. You taste incredible.”
I twirled my tongue around his fingers and sucked off my flavor. I’d never been so wanton, so brazen, so . . . alive. Closing my eyes, I let a whimper drift up from my throat as I sucked hard on his fingers, delivering a little bite before letting him go.
He groaned. “You’re so fucking perfect, Parker. You know that, right? You’re incredible.” Low and guttural, his tone dug down deep inside me and took hold.
No, I didn’t know that. No one had ever paid me such compliments before. But from Tate, I wanted to believe it.
“What was it you wanted to do next?” he asked. His hands came up to cup my breasts. It felt good when he lifted them up, relieved the weight of their heavy need, ran the pads of his thumbs over my tender nipples. I bowed my back slightly and pushed into his grasp.
“I want to fuck your cock with my tits and let you come all over my face,” I said through ragged breaths. Despite my two soul-shattering orgasms from moments ago, my body was still raring to go and wanted more.
“Is that what you want?”
“Mhmm.”
“You’re sure you don’t want me to take you under the waterfall, slip my cock inside you and coax out one more sweet little orgasm?”
I bit my lip and closed my eyes. His thumbs and fingers were pulling and pinching my nipples, and fuck if I wasn’t getting close again.
“Yes.” I sighed. “That. I want that.”
Removing one hand from my breast, he cupped the back of my head hard and pulled me toward him. His lips crushed mine, and his tongue swept inside, heated and insistent. Tasting me, exploring me, cherishing me. Slowly, carefully, without coming apart, we started to move. He was backing me up. The gentle splatter and roar of the water thundering down into the basin along with the spray ricocheting off the pool filled my senses. My heart beat just as fast as the falls pounded, perhaps faster.
Water fell all around us, and when I opened my eyes, I was blinded by the rushing stream. We were directly under the falls. Standing in the spray. My back was against the wall, and with a quick flick of his wrist, Tate hoisted me up on to his hips and pushed his cock inside me.
Hammering, plundering, pounding. The man was a torrential and tireless driving force inside of me as the water poured down relentlessly around us, filling my eyes, my nose, my mouth. Until all I could do was shut my eyes, let Tate’s mouth claim mine and give in to the moment. Harder and harder he drilled me against the wall, his pelvic bone grazing my clit in that oh-so-perfect way, until my climax was demanding to be freed once more. This one wasn’t going to be nearly as mind-boggling as the last one, but it was still going to be a doozy.
“Come for me, Parker. One more time, then I’ll give you what you want.” He dipped his head low and latched on to a nipple, and when his tongue did that little flick thing back and forth, I was a goner.
When my climax finally subsided, Tate moved us out from under the falls and back over to the flat slate ledge. He helped me step down into the water, and he sat on the edge.
Both of our chests heaved, while my face was warm and my heart full. I couldn’t stop myself, and I looked down at his magnificent package. It was so engorged, so hard, so big. Upon further inspection, as I let my hand dart out and cup him, I found his sac to be even tighter than earlier, so full, and when I dipped my head to check, running my tongue along the velvety seam of his scrotum, it was indeed a very beautiful if not light shade of blue.
“You’re sure about this?” Tate asked, making a fist around himself and giving his cock a couple of sexy-as-fuck tugs.
“So sure,” I panted. I spread his legs wide and stepped between them. Cupping each of my heavy breasts, I brought them together, sliding his cock between them. I moved them over his length, up and down, squeezing tight only to then lick and blow cool air on the tip when it emerged from between my pillowy breasts.
“Oh fuck, baby. The sight of your luscious tits fucking my cock, this is so hot.”
His crown broke free of my tight grasp again, and I sucked on it hard, releasing it with an audible pop and then blowing cool air on the shiny head.
“So fucking sexy,” he groaned. His hand came up, and he fisted my hair again. “Suck it again, Parker. Just for a sec. You give the best fucking head I’ve ever had. Your mouth is so hot, so soft. Let me fuck your mouth.”
No one had ever talked so dirty, so bold, so direct to me before. My entire life I hated it when a man ordered me around or told me what to do, but not Tate. When Tate ordered m
y meals for me, demanded I tell him my fantasies, asked me to suck his cock, he wasn’t coming from a demeaning place. In fact, it was the complete opposite. He was giving me all the power. The power to let him into my mind, to know my dark desires and give my body to him. And when he ordered dinner for me, well, that was just sweet, and he was taking a leap of faith that I’d like what he chose. I could just as easily hate it and ask for something else. No, Tate wasn’t bossing me around, he was possessing me, cherishing me, and in the most intimate and intriguing way possible.
Licking my lips, I released him from my breasts and immediately deep-throated him. I suppressed my gag reflex as best I could and let him bottom out and knock my tonsils. Tears pricked and burned at the corners of my eyes, but I didn’t care. I wanted to take every single inch of him. Every single millimeter. I sucked hard when he reached the back of my throat, then I pulled him out to my lips and sucked on the crown.
“Baby, I’m going to come,” Tate said with a grunt. “You’re sure you . . .” But he didn’t have time to finish. I felt his balls contract beneath my palm, and then I freed him from my lips. He fisted himself and started to stroke as warm, salty jets of semen spurted from his rigid cock and out onto my face. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue, feeling the heat of his seed land on my lips; I greedily lapped up his release.
I watched him as he came. Watched as he bared his teeth and shut his eyes. An animal in its purest form. Harsh and masculine, but also so incredibly beautiful. When I knew he was finished, I used my fingers to wipe my face clean. Then I sucked his cum off of my digits. He opened his eyes, they were full of awe and helpless fascination.
“That was . . .” he trailed off and he shook his head “That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen in my life. No woman has ever let me do that. No woman has ever . . .” he ran his hand through his hair and let out a sigh. “Fuck, Parker. You’re incredible.”
I couldn’t hide the grin that erupted on my face. I felt incredible. This whole night, this whole experience had been incredible. My body hummed alive and happy from all my orgasms, from having my fantasies come to life. I quickly splashed some water on my face, then took Tate’s hand when he offered it to me, helping me climb back out onto the ledge.
I let out a sigh of both contentment and exhaustion. “I guess we need to put our suits back on and rejoin the real world. Head to bed. Accept the reality that sleep is necessary if we intend to be present and abled bodies tomorrow.” I was about to bend down to pick up my suit, but Tate stopped me.
“We don’t need to put them back on.” He bent down and scooped up our wet suits then reclaimed my hand and led me over to the rock wall. Standing on practically his tiptoes, he fanned his fingers up and over a small outcropping of rocks and began to touch and prod them as if searching for something. “Ah, there we go.”
A soft click, and a hidden door popped open. He led me through a pitch-black walkway, and then another soft click and a door right in front of us opened.
“Here.” He handed me a towel. “Wrap this around yourself.”
I watched as he haphazardly fixed a white towel around his waist. I did the same. Once he made sure all my bits were covered, he took my hand again, and out we walked into the warm night.
“So there is a way in besides through the pool,” I said, keeping a firm hold on my towel to make sure it didn’t slip off and show my breasts and freshly chafed thighs to the palm trees.
“Ah, well . . . I’m sorry I lied. But that’s just the emergency door. I try not to use it. There’s no sense making you put a wet bathing suit back on when I’m just going to tear that towel off you and fuck you one more time back in your bed the moment we get to your suite.”
We came around the corner, and there sat our clothes and flip-flops. Tate snatched them up, took my hand again and pulled me along the path.
“You can go again?” I asked, more stunned with his prowess and insatiable appetite than anything else. If he wanted me again, I wouldn’t say “no.”
A dark and wicked laugh rumbled low in his chest as my villa came into view. “Baby, I am pretty much constantly fucking hard when you’re around. You are a walking, talking Playboy magazine. And unlike those sticky-paged two-dimensional tug books, you are the real deal, and I am going to soak up every bit of your sweetness for the short time I have you. I may die the moment you step back onto your plane, because you’ll have drained me of all my electrolytes, but what a way to go.”
I gaped at him.
He fished inside the pocket of my shorts that he clutched in his hand and finally retrieved my key card. He flashed it in front of the panel, and a second later, it shone bright green in the darkness and my door clicked open.
“Now, any more filthy as fuck fantasies rattling around in that gorgeous brain of yours? And any of them involve a bed? My back is killing me from that slate floor.”
Chapter Six
The next morning found both Tate and I back at the pool. We swam our laps, did the nasty in the shower this time, rather than the sauna, then dispersed to our rooms to change. He said he wanted to take me on a hike up to The Belvedere lookout, but seeing as the day was unusually cloudy, we decided to hold off on the hike until tomorrow and instead head out fishing.
I’d never been fishing before. Not even on the river, and I’d grown up right down the street from a Mississippi River offshoot . Not sure what to wear or what to pack, I tossed on a pair of khaki shorts and a black tank top over my bikini, slipped into flip-flops and wrestled my long red mane into a French braid down my back. And just to be safe, slathered on the SPF like there was no tomorrow.
A soft rap at my door had me jumping out of my skin as I dabbed on lip gloss in the mirror.
“Ready to go?” he asked, his eyes raking my body from head to toe and not hiding his appreciation for how I looked.
I nodded. “You bet.” I glanced back into my room. “Do I need to pack anything?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Swimsuit, hat, sunscreen, sunglasses. If you’ve got all that in your bag, we’re good to go.” I opened up my bohemian shoulder bag to do a quick double check, gave him another nod, then followed him out the door.
“Where are the fishing boats?” I asked, struggling to keep up with his long strides as he made his way down the path toward the water. Just then, I noticed a couple of short blond strands of hair again. This time they were more on his back, closer to his left hip. My gut clenched at the same time as my jaw. Should I ask him?
Despite the fate of the cat, I couldn’t control my curiosity, and I leaned forward and pulled the hairs off his back. “Care to explain?” I asked, feigning laissez-faire and plastering on a sassy grin.
He spun around. “What?”
“Whose hair is this?” I held up the blond strands and eyed him warily, removing my sunglasses for good measure.
He didn’t bother to remove his sunglasses as he gave a sloppy shrug. “Huh? Oh, I dunno. No woman, if that’s what you’re wondering. Cat maybe?” His chuckle was awkward and a tad forced. But then he finally removed his shades and looked down into my eyes with the same sincerity as when he’d told me about his uncle’s passing and how hard it was when his dad had left. “You’re the only woman I’m having sex with right now, Parker. I promise.”
Nibbling on my bottom lip, because I wasn’t sure what else to do, I glanced down at my feet.
“Look at me.”
My head snapped up.
“I swear.”
I just nodded. The way he demanded my trust, my belief in him when we hardly knew each other, normally it would have sent alarm bells blaring, but it didn’t. It was comforting. Trust wasn’t something I was willing to give freely anymore, not after Xavier’s betrayal, but Tate demanded it from me. I had to trust him. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
His hand came up under my chin. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
His face softened. “Now, to answer your earlier question about the boats, we keep the
boats at the marina in the next bay because we’re an eco-resort and there is a delicate reef right out front. I don’t allow boats to moor too close to the beach. Also, it helps for privacy and security. If people want to come here off their yacht, they have to call in, make arrangements, then either bring their dinghy in via electric motor or row. Or, depending on the guest, we’ll go out in our own electric-powered boat and get them.”
And just like that, we were back to normal. The tension from a moment ago gone. Was it always this easy with Tate? He wouldn’t accept anything but order, trust and efficiency in his life, and when there was any threat of the peace being disrupted, he acted with lightning speed to calm the waters again as fast as he could.
I blinked a couple of times, the sun was trying desperately to burn my retinas. Then I remembered my sunglasses were still up in my hair. I pulled them back over my eyes. “Wow. So, then where are the boats?”
He grinned back at me and reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Not too far. Just around the bend is a marina where I keep five fishing boats moored. It’s a ten-minute walk.”
And sure enough, roughly ten minutes later, we emerged through the palm trees and foliage to find a small but very healthily populated marina. Boats of every imaginable size and worth sat gently bobbing next to the dock, while various people milled around on top or inside. Quiet, inoffensive music played from one big ship that wore a South Korean flag, and when the man on top saw Tate approach, his face split into a wide grin.
“Hello!”
Tate offered the man a small head bow. “Hello.”
The two took off on a lengthy, animated and laughter-filled chat—all in Korean!
“You speak Korean?” I asked, after we said our goodbyes and carried along the dock in the direction of more boats.
He nodded. “Yeah. I lived there for a while. Did a year of my undergrad in Seoul, then went back and got my MBA there, as well. I also worked in Busan for a bit. I have a lot of connections in Korea, and we get quite a few Korean businessmen at the resort.”