Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“Be mine, darlin’. Only mine.”
He nodded jerkily and kissed me harder, and I couldn’t put words to the relief. He had to mean it. A single nod—and I’d take it. Consider that written in stone.
I reached around him and grabbed his cock, only to find he was already stroking himself off. But I took over, and I fucked him closer to our orgasms.
Every part of my body protested, and I had to change our positions again. I pushed him forward onto all fours, and I fucked him as hard as I could, with the water rolling in with more force.
He let out a loud moan that got me right to that edge, and I felt the familiar tingles at the back of my neck, slowly spreading and moving south.
“Fill me,” he breathed. “I’m so fucking close.”
So was I. I let my head fall back, and I breathed deeply as the pleasure crashed down on me. Eyes closed, forceful thrusts, tight grips—I let go. The instant every ounce of bliss centered in my lower stomach, I held my breath and started coming.
Over and over, I fucked my come deep into his ass, and he fueled my climax when he surrendered too. His sounds were so goddamn hot. He had a gritty groan I’d always found intoxicatingly sexy.
Something less sexy was the sound my knees made. They just reminded me I was on the wrong side of forty-five.
CHAPTER 7
Max Jensen
There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I was going back to the campsite. First of all, I needed Reid alone. Second, I was done with sand.
I winced as I zipped up my shorts. Then I kicked off my shoes, ready to say goodbye to them forever.
“Where do you think you’re goin’?”
“To the boat,” I said, wading out into the water. “So are you. Let’s go.”
Motherfucker, I hurt everywhere. I had sand in places…
My entire back felt like it was on fire, my jaw ached for some reason, my ass was so sore that my breathing hitched every time I accidentally clenched down, and I had bruises forming along my rib cage and thighs.
When the water was deep enough, I dove under and found relief in the chill. The water was fucking perfect, except it stung. My bottom lip and some spots along my shoulder blades had been bleeding.
I resurfaced and scrubbed at my face, and I made sure he was following. If he hadn’t been, I would’ve punched him in the face and dragged him with me.
He couldn’t fucking do this to me if he wasn’t gonna follow through. All the things he’d said, the way he’d taken me—if he regretted something tomorrow or, hell, next month, I’d break. He was the one person on this planet who had that ability.
It was terrifying and elating at once.
“Be mine, darlin’.”
I swam toward the boat, toward the lone lantern Sam had lit under the canopy by the steering wheel.
Sam was the only one who’d brought his phone to the island too, because it could handle the water. Maybe Rome too. With their military backgrounds, they didn’t do anything half-assed. Heavy-duty gear all the way.
Then again, we probably didn’t have any service out here. We’d have to find another way to let them know Reid and I were staying on the boat. No matter what, I wasn’t going back.
Reid and I reached the boat at the same time, and we aimed for the back, where we could climb up on the little platform meant to dock Jet-Skis to.
“Your silence bothers me,” he said, out of breath.
I grunted as I hauled myself up. “I was busy swimming faster than sharks could catch me.”
“I was busy laying my heart on the line earlier,” he replied.
My mouth twitched, and I glanced back at him. Was he serious about all this?
Part of me refused to accept it, and I knew why. We’d never been an option before because I was too chickenshit to go after the one person who could wreck me. If he felt remotely similar about me, he could probably relate—and our fears were valid. We didn’t make sense, regardless of how much tonight had fucked me up in the best ways.
I was going to need a month or two to process my newfound obsession with being taken.
He’d been right on the money. I’d felt so fucking vulnerable, and it’d bordered on humiliation—and I wanted more of it.
“Come on.” He nudged me forward, and I hitched a leg over to the seating area. “If we’re sleeping here, I wanna get rid of the salt.”
Count me in.
He walked over to one of the compartments where the driver sat—fuck if I knew what it was called; I didn’t know anything about boats—and he dug out half a dozen bottles of water and two towels.
I got with the program and followed him to the side of the boat where water could drain out.