She cocks her head, “Not sure I’ve ever seen you…” twisting her lips side to side as she thinks of her answer before she continues, “Have fun, or even relax.”
“I have fun.”
“Do you?”
“I play poker.”
“Oh,” she rolls her eyes, “So much fun.”
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
“Malakai!” She screams before I haul her into the water. She goes under and comes up spluttering, her glare one for the history books. If looks could kill, she would have killed me time and again.
I chuckle when she splashes me but quickly grip her wrists before she can swim away. I can touch the bottom here, but she can’t, so I bring her close, gripping her beneath her ass to wrap her legs around my hips. I wade further into the deep, deep enough the water now comes to my shoulders, but it would completely cover her if she were to stand.
The sun warms her face, showcasing the lighter flecks of gold hidden in the depths of the brown of her eyes. I run the tip of my nose down the bridge of hers before I capture her lips with my own.
I only have twelve hours left where she is completely mine, it’s about time I start using them wisely. We are here, we are alone, and she is all mine to do with whatever I like. The possibilities are endless but right here is a good start.
She opens for me, sweeping her tongue into my mouth, the taste of that fruity cocktail on her tongue, so sweet and mixed with the taste of her, could be a dangerous drug. I rumble into her mouth, my cock hardening at the feel of her pussy pressed to my lower abdomen, grinding softly.
But again, she won’t be coming for me just yet. I have a few more hours I want to wind her up for.
She trembles in my arms, I can feel the speed of her heart thumping against my chest, her breathy little moans landing on my tongue.
I can only imagine how pent up she is already after the plane, a little caressing, a slide of my fingers where she’s desperate for me most, will likely detonate her. It just makes me harder, my cock aching like I didn’t come down her throat only a few hours ago.
But I am punishing her with this denial as much as I am punishing myself. I won’t bury my cock in her until I am ready for her to come, and I doubt she’ll be willing to get me there if I don’t get her there first, she made that mistake once, Olivia isn’t the type of woman to make it twice.
So even though the tip of my cock leaks, my ballspulsing, I will deny us both because when it happens in just a few hours’ time, when I strip her down and lick every inch of her, she’ll shatter into thousands of pieces for me, over and over again.
But for now, I let her work herself up because the reward will be that much sweeter. I revel in the way she uses my body to find pleasure for herself, how her moans taste in my mouth, how the water feels as it ripples around us both. But when she is right there, right where I want her to be, I still her against me, clamping my arms tight so she’s stuck and can’t move.
“Ah, ah, kitten,” I purr, licking across that kiss swollen bottom lip, “Not yet.”
“Malakai,” She cries softly.
“Not yet,” I whisper, “Wait, baby. A little patience.”
I gently unwrap her legs from my waist, holding her so she doesn’t dip beneath the water, “We’re going to take a walk.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now,” I start to swim for the edge of the pool, feeling and hearing her follow, far rougher than she was swimming earlier, like a little tantrum. I’d expect nothing less from her. I hoist myself from the water, turning so I’m sat at the edge and wait for her to come to me. She does which pulls up my mouth in a satisfied smile, then I grab her, hauling her out with me. I pull her over me, so her breasts are squashed against my chest, the length of her covering me and I capture her mouth one last time before I send her off with a quick slap against her ass.
To save temptation, I grab a shower in the downstairs bathroom while she uses the one in the ensuite and get changed, waiting downstairs for her to arrive.
I almost choke on my own tongue when she does.
I don’t know what it is about us being here, but something feels different. Like there is no static or interference.
She beams at me when she hits the bottom step, dressed in the cobalt blue dress I had packed, the one with the deep plunge neckline and delicate floral pattern. It swishes around her knees, loose from the hips down but tight everywhere else, it sticks to her curves like a second skin, leaving nothing for my imagination. Her breasts have been pushed together, giving them a tempting swell that makes my fingers and mouth itch for a feel, for a taste.
Her hair, left down and flowing, is nothing like it is back home. There are glorious waves to it, volume and shine and her face is clear of makeup, not that that mattered. Either way, she is gorgeous, whether her dark eyes are framed by smokey shadow or left clear and bright. There are freckles that dot her nose from an afternoon in the sun, a slight burn that reddens her cheeks.
“Hi,” she chirps cheerily.
“Hi,” it comes out as a rasp.
