My towel slips open and I’m naked on his knee. Who holds the power now? I’m not sure.
“I’m a strong swimmer.”
“I know. I’m a strong man.”
He doesn’t mean physically. He’s telling me something else.
“Why do you leave my bed so early each morning when there’s no one around but the staff who won’t breathe a word?”
“Because if I stay I’ll give you something I’m not ready for.”
His hands have slowed, his fingers the gentlest they’ve ever been. The kiss that follows doesn’t have a precedent. It sets one.
Our lips touch as if we both might break with any pressure and my hand spreads across his chest, feeling his heart beat.
I know what I knew years ago. I fell in love with Ben Smith the day he went back into a maze to try and find me for fear I was lost and I’ve been in love with him ever since. His hands trace like they did years before, exploring unknown territory. We both need to memorise what is written on our bodies, the scars and the marks and the bruises, the tracks where tears have stained and the kisses other lovers have placed. I’m facing him, straddled on his lap and he sucks on a nipple without nipping or biting.
He leaves me raw.
I’m wet and pulsing. This can only go on for so long before one of us snaps and our lust becomes violent. I bounce up and down to urge his hand to drop further south, needing some release. In the water, I’d felt his erection pressed against me. Now I wished he’d moved away my bikini bottoms and fucked me in the sea while Isaac was there, bobbed me up and down on his dick.
“You need more?”
“I always needed more.”
His hand cups my sex.
“You’re fucking dripping.”
“Why did you never fuck me?”
“Because I’d have never left you.”
The words resonate like heavy drum beats and I understand what he means.
I was too young. To innocent. Too royal.
“You should’ve been my first.”
“I know.”
He pushes a finger inside my cunt, then another, bringing me close to the edge of coming but not to it.
“I can be your first in another way.” He removes his fingers and smears my wetness to my anus, pressing a finger against the hole and making entry.
He’s filled me with his fingers before. He wasn’t the first, but I’ve never gone all the way there. I’m too much of a princess.
“Yes.” Thinking about it isn’t necessary. I owe him this, my last first.
He kisses me again, open mouthed kisses that are almost as intimate as having someone inside you and his fingers carry on exploring.
I’m not a fearful person. I wasn’t a worrier as a child and not as an adult, but whenever Ben was there, is there, I fly freer and higher without fear. Like now.
“Where’s the lube?” He breaks the kiss, pinches a nipple with the hand that hasn’t been around my sex.
“Bedside drawer.”
“You want me to use a condom?” He picks me up off his knee, sits me on the edge of the bed. His eyes are on my cunt. “Spread your legs.”
