My temperature rose.
“Whose fault is that?”
“Mine. I wanted to prove I could stop touching you. I wanted you to notice that I wasn’t touching you anymore.” His voice was low, half hidden by the rustle of the breeze and the lapping of the water nearby. “I wanted to know if you noticed and you missed it.”
His hands rested against my stomach. I was wearing harem pants; comfy, lose cotton that felt smooth and soft against my skin. I had a feeling I’d be living in them for the next year or so and I was quite happy to. On my top, I wore a broderie Anglaise shirt, lose fitted and worn. Gully slid his hands underneath it.
The camera continued to take photos of those moments.
“I noticed.”
He kissed the side of my neck. When I would see the photos later, I’d notice him looking at the camera as he did so, his eyes dark, his expression serious.
I’d remember how warm I was everywhere, his touch burning in the prettiest of ways.
“Take off your top.”
I turned around as he pulled at the hem.
“What?”
“Trust me. Take off your top.” He pulled it up more.
I held up my arms and let him strip it from me. The air was warm still and I was too heated by the fire he’d planted inside me to feel any coolness anyway.
“Nice bra.” He threw my top to the ground, then placed his hands just underneath my breasts, almost cupping them.
I leaned back against him, moving my arms up around his neck, my back still against his bare chest. My bra was lacy and pretty, cream in colour, although most of it was lace.
“No one’s going to be seeing these photos.” I knew very little of my breasts were concealed.
“Good. Just us then.”
I burned hotter between my legs, molten heat pooling there. Gully’s hands moved higher, cupping my breasts, his fingers running over my nipples, which were hard already. Needy.
There was no point hiding that I was aroused. No point denying this. We’d never made any pact to keep our hands off each other or said any form of relationship was out of bounds.
“Is this too much?” His words were interspersed with kisses, light, feathery kisses designed to torment and tease.
“It’s not enough.”
“I saw you looking at me while I was making the fence like you wanted to eat me.”
I swallowed. I wasn’t going to deny it. “I did. Want to eat you.”
“Didn’t you notice that I look at you in the same way?” His fingers found the front fastener of my bra, pinching it open and pulling it away.
The sound that came from my throat was animalistic. “No. I didn’t think you did.”
“You need to be more observant then.” He cupped my breasts, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples, the camera capturing some of these moments.
He kissed my neck again, his hands moving freely over my skin, his touch keeping me burning, making the world shine brighter, the skies glimmer.
The outside, the air, the sound of the sea, his hands on my skin, my stomach, my breasts. Tender and gentle, then firmer and possessive as if he owned it all, even the jewels at the depths of the ocean.
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.” He nuzzled the sensitive spot between my shoulder and neck, pressing a kiss, a nip. I remembered how he’d touched me that one and only night, how his hands had worshipped my flesh, his lips claiming ownership, taking every moan I made as belonging to him.
They did.
