"So gorgeous when you come, Mrs. Baine." As he murmurs the words, he presses soft kisses against my inner thighs before slowly making his way up my body.
His mouth traces heat across my belly, lingering for just a breath over the spot where our baby is, his tenderness making my heart ache with happiness. Then he continues upward, to the curve of my breasts. My collarbone. The hollow of my throat where my pulse beats wild against his lips.
By the time his face hovers over mine, I'm reaching for him, pulling him down into a kiss that tastes of my body, and the deep desire I feel for him even now.
"I need you inside me," I murmur against his mouth.
“Here I am.” He shifts his weight, reaching between us, and then there's that first perfect stretch as he pushes forward. The fullness, the rightness, the way my whole body exhales into the feeling of him wrings a cry from my lips.
His mouth finds the curve of my neck, and I feel his breath shudder against my skin.
"Christ, baby. Your pussy clenches around me so right." The words come out ragged as he pushes all the way inside me. "I can never get deep enough. You feel so fucking perfect every time."
I wrap my legs around him, pulling him deeper, and the sound he makes goes through me like a current. Then he begins to move, every thrust exactly where I need him. His hand grips my hip, holding me down, and the possessiveness of it—the carnal command—makes me whimper brokenly against his mouth.
We kiss between thrusts, messy and breathless. I'm loud again. I can't help it with him. I don't want to hold anything back with him. Some distant part of my mind registers that the crew of five above deck can probably hear everything.
I sink my teeth into my lower lip as a moan curls its way up my throat. "Mm, yes. Don't stop."
"Never." He grins against my mouth, hardly breaking our kiss. "You don’t have to worry about that."
"Oh, God," I groan, losing myself to the rhythm of our bodies crashing against each other. I hear movement on the deck and tense up before I can help it.
"Don't worry about them either," Nick growls, his breaths rapid and hot against my ear. "They're paid not to listen or to care. Besides, I don't care if they know exactly how much my wife loves it when I fuck her."
"I do love it," I admit, panting now, the pleasure building to a crest deep in my core. "Fuck me harder, Nick. Make me scream."
His only response is a coarse, animal snarl. Then he shifts our position, his arm hooking under my knee and bringing my leg up for a deeper angle. He thrusts long and hard, hitting a place inside me that sends me spiraling. The pleasure coils tighter with every thrust, every rough whisper, every place our bodies connect.
I'm close. So close…
"Yeah. That's it." His voice is pure command. His body is a relentless force driving me farther and farther to the edge. "Let go, angel. I've got you."
His cock seems even thicker now, filling me so completely I can hardly bear it. I can feel his orgasm building along with mine. His entire body is tense, muscles straining, breath sawing out of him in ragged bursts through his clenched teeth.
He utters my name, low and savage. And I break.
My body arches, clenches, pleasure tearing through me so hard I can't breathe, can't think, can only hold on to him as it takes me apart. His name spills from my lips. His groan gusts against my throat. And then he's there too, burying himself deep, the hot pulse of his release filling me as we come undone in each other's arms.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. We simply… breathe. His weight is heavy on me, welcome, grounding. The gentle rock of the yacht beneath us a comforting lull. Warm light filters through the portholes, bringing the scent of salt air, while Nick’s pulse still hammers where our chests press together.
He lifts his head, and his smile is lazy, satisfied, soft enough to break my heart. "You okay?"
"Mm." I trace my fingers along his jaw, feeling the scratch of stubble. "Better than okay. Thoroughly ravished. As usual."
His low laugh vibrates through my chest.
He kisses me once more, soft and sweet, before rolling onto his side and pulling me with him. We lie tangled together for longmoments, my head on his chest, his hand tracing idle patterns on my hip. I can feel his heartbeat slowing beneath my cheek.
"It's getting late," I murmur eventually. "We should probably shower."
"Probably." His hand slides down to my ass, squeezes gently. "In a minute."
The minute stretches. Neither of us seems inclined to move, and I let myself sink into it. The drowsy weight of him, the way his fingers keep tracing absent shapes on my skin as though he's not ready to stop touching me yet. But eventually he presses a kiss to my hair and pulls me up with him, and we make our way to the cabin's ridiculously luxurious en suite bathroom still holding on to each other.
The shower is big enough for both of us plus another. White Italian marble, chrome fixtures, and a rainfall showerhead that sends warm water cascading over us both. Nick soaps my back, my shoulders, his strong hands sliding down my spine and onto my backside.
I turn in his arms and reach for him too, my palms gliding over his chest, his shoulders, the ridged muscles of his abdomen. His stomach tightens under my touch, and the flicker of heat in his eyes tells me exactly where this could go if I let it. I almost do. But we have all day, and there's something delicious about letting the want simmer.
