I do as she says. Using my thighs to steady her, Paisley leans in, pressing her lips to my lower stomach. Her lips move over the muscle slowly, and she murmurs, “I like your body, Klein. The way your hips have this ‘v’ shape,” she shifts left, running her tongue along the diagonal, until she’s stopped by the rolled top of the towel. “It was very distracting on the beach earlier.”
“My apologies.”
She fists the top of the towel and tugs, and the end of the towel that was tucked in gives way. She looks up at me, gaze wickedly playful.
“Poor Klein,” she pouts, batting her eyelashes.
“Poor me,” I say, trying not to smile. “So sad.”
Paisley sits back enough to grab both ends of the towel. Slowly, she pulls them apart, like opening the blinds on a window.
As if driven by a spring, I surge forward.
Paisley licks her lips, saying impishly, “Would you look at that? It doesn’t light up.”
I’ve never been in this position and laughed before, but here I am. Chuckling at Paisley’s wit, even on the precipice of something so intimate.
Paisley grips the part of me that’s throbbing. Her fisted hand climbs, gathering dew, and says, “I hope this takes your mind off things.”
My mind is already taken offthings. What pain? Where?
And then Paisley leans forward. Wraps her mouth around me, warm, wet, and perfect.
Stars. That’s what I see. My head tips back and I look up at the ceiling as my brain adjusts to the simple fact this is Paisley—Paisley!—with her mouth on me.
My gaze snaps back down. I can’t miss a moment of this. Paisley’s sunshine hair, the sun illuminating her right side, the diamond stud in her ear casting prisms of light on the wall.
My thumb rubs over her cheek. Her ocean-eyed gaze meets mine. She looks sexy as hell, a vixen, but somehow sweet.
What have I done right in this life to deserve Paisley on her knees, mouth filled with me, gazing up at me with an intoxicating mix of sweetness and desire?
Paisley’s eyes flicker closed, her gaze drops, and she gets to work.
My entire world fades into the background, and there is only this moment, beautiful Paisley’s head bobbing in my lap, letting down her guard and offering this piece of herself.
My focus narrows, becoming a pinpoint, and the pleasure ascends. I look around for a tissue, a T-shirt, but there’s nothing in supply. Only the towel trapped under my body.
“Paisley,” I groan, stroking her cheek with my knuckles. “Soon. I’m going to?—”
She hums, not letting up. The peak nears, my muscles tightening, and I attempt to move away from her, but she locks my hips into place with her hands and pushes herself further down on me.
My eyes close as white flashes across my vision. “Paisley,” I croak, my hand wrapped around the side of her neck.
My body jerks, and under my palm Paisley’s throat undulates.
Oh.
Fuck.
Paisley releases me tenderly, and my eyes blink open. She returns to sitting on her heels, and if it weren’t for the leftover shock of my orgasm, I’d consider everything that just happened one of my many fantasies about this woman.
Paisley’s eyebrows lift, gaze watery. “Feeling any pain?”
Struggling to find my way out of my post-fellatio haze, it takes me a moment to decipher what she means. “I’m feeling everything but pain.” I’m not only feeling the afterglow of pleasure, I’m feeling all kinds of things I’m not supposed to. Feelings that weren’t a part of our deal. Feelings that make me want to tell her to forget our deal and just let me be here, on the island, in some capacity that isn’t fake.
What would she do if I said that? Should I say that?
“Klein, can I be honest with you?”
