In the blink of an eye, he’s on me, picking me up and nearly throwing me on my back into one of the leather chairs. Making quick work of my bottoms, he tears them off so hard I hear fabric rip, but I don’t care. He hovers over me, breathing hard, then flips my legs onto the arms of the chair so I’m spread wide open for him. My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest, but I’m ready for him. Whatever he wants to do.
Gavin’s nostrils flare like a bull’s, but instead of just driving into me, he lowers his face while he grabs my thighs with his strong hands, holding me open. At first he just kisses along the insides of my thighs and up over my mound, touching me with his lips everywhere but exactly where I want him. He flicks his tongue right around the edges, teasing me until I try to follow him with my hips to lure him to my center.
Instead, he tightens his grip on my thighs to keep me in place. “Good things come to those who wait, babe.”
I nearly growl in frustration, my hands gripping the armrests so tightly my knuckles go white. Almost instinctively, I reply, “I’m not your babe.”
He laughs. “Is my mouth about to eat your sweet pussy until you scream my name? Right now, you definitely are, babe. Stop denying it.”
Oh my.
I start to respond, but then he swipes his broad tongue firmly right up between my folds and I forget why I cared.
He doesn’t reply, his mouth is too busy, but the way his eyes crinkle into tight crow’s feet shows how much he’s smiling. Then I forget all about that too, closing my eyes and letting his tongue work its magic. He swirls, nibbles, kisses, blows, and basically pulls out every possible trick in the book until I’m a quivering mess beneath him, my whole body tightening up in anticipation.
I’m so, so close when he sits up that I whine in protest, making him chuckle. Tugging his discarded pants closer, he gets something out of the pocket. There’s a tear of plastic and a moment of fiddling before he’s back between my legs, but this time it’s not his tongue pushing at my entrance. I draw a deep breath, waiting, my insides aching to be filled.
“You know, I think I might just be falling a little bit in love with you.” He looks almost as surprised by his words as I am, but he doesn’t take them back. His eyes bore into mine, like he’s looking right into my soul. He’s reading me like one of my books, and I don’t even have to say anything. I can see that he knows.
Gavin pushes into me and my pent up breath rushes out in a long sigh. I’m so close that when he fills me, I shudder with the need to release, and when he leans in and takes my nipple in his mouth, I lose it. I come around him, clenching his thick cock, my toes curling and my back arching, pressing my breast eagerly towards him for more.
His big hands wrap around my waist, holding me in place as he fucks me, first with long, languid strokes, but then harder and harder until he’s pounding me into the smooth leather chair. I grab onto him, my nails digging into his back and pulling him closer. Shaking with what feels like a storm of tiny orgasms in the wake of the big one, all I can do is cling to him and ride it out while I scream his name.
He fills me again and again, until he groans deeply and pushes all the way in. He swells, pulsing thickly while I hold him close. Long moments pass before we both relax, him gripping the chair for support and me slumping into it with a contented sigh.
We stare at each other, drenched in sweat and breathing like we’ve both run marathons. He’s got a ridiculous grin on his face, and I’m sure mine’s no better. I haven’t felt this happy in a long time, and I want this moment to last forever.
It can’t, of course, and I make sure to voice my protest when he pulls out. His cocky smile says it all. I’d be more disappointed, but I doubt it will be long before he’s right back where I want him. Then he looks around the room. I follow his gaze and laugh. Our clothes are everywhere, like a dresser exploded.
“I suppose we should clean up.” Gavin chuckles while beginning to pick up. “I really like reading with you, though. Is it always that good?”
“Sometimes better.” I curl up in the chair and watch him. “Some of the stories are really steamy.”
He stops to arch an eyebrow at me. “We should definitely do some more reading, then. Now I’m curious. Up in your room?”
“Our room. Or are you planning on going back to yours?” I hope not. It’s a big bed, and I’ve missed sleeping with him almost as much as I’ve missed the parts that didn’t involve any sleep at all.
I admire the rippling of his back while he’s pulling on his pants. The tattoos dance across his skin with his movements. It’s hard to believe that all that is mine. I’m feeling possessive, and something tells me I’m going to be exploring and claiming every inch of that skin before the end of the cruise.