He starts to kiss me again. His mouth is urgent, his body domineering; it moves against mine as if controlled by some overwhelming force; a force that has to be satisfied this very moment, without considering the consequences.
“Casey…” he moans into my lips, as his hands go back to fighting the button of my jeans. I lift my hips, helping him; he grabs the waistband and yanks down, hard. Once they’re past my butt, he starts to slide them down my thighs – I can already feel Nick’s liberated sigh, pushing my body to its limit.
When he manages to get them off, he gruffly tosses them over his shoulder, before throwing himself back on top of me. He moves down between my legs, his hands sliding over my stomach, before reaching up to cup my breasts: he pushes aside the material of my bra, exposing my nipples once again, before leaping back up my body, taking them in his mouth.
I move underneath him, suffocating with desire. The situation is so unlikely, so overwhelming; madness has infiltrated our bodies, clouded our judgment. By this point, I have absolutely no power over what is happening.
“Nick,” I say, trying to grab his arm and lift him away from me; but his strength is overpowering. He can’t hear me. “Nick,” I say again.
He pulls away slightly, looking me in the eyes. His expression tells me that he couldn’t stop now, even if he wanted to.
“Take off those damn jeans,” I order him, confidently.
Nick flashes me a satisfied smile and gets hurriedly to his feet. He battles with the buttons on his jeans and, after finally freeing himself of them, reveals to me that he had nothing on underneath.
Oh, holy shit.
Around us, it’s pitch-black – but even without any light, I recognise the lines of his body. Instinctively, I open my legs, praying that he stops wasting time and does what I’ve been waiting my whole life for him to do. Something that, against all reason and all logic, I want more than anything else in the world.
And that something is Nick O’Connor.
He pulls off his T-shirt and kneels down in the sand, sliding one hand behind my back to undo the clasp of my bra, before whipping it away from my body and throwing it aside. His hands grab the waistband of my panties, desperately pulling them down, and his eyes lock onto mine. They scrutinise me, full of lust, and I feel my skin tingle, before setting alight the second his body presses me down onto the wet sand.
His knee is between my legs, pushing them apart just enough to slip between them. His hand slides along my thighs, checking that I’m ready for him – but I’ve been ready for eight years, and there’s no reason to wait any longer. Nick brings his mouth back up to mine, pushing his tongue inside, taking my breath and my reasoning along with it. Before I can acknowledge what’s happening, I feel myself fill up with him; I fill up with everything I’ve desired more than anything else in the world.
I feel him push deeply, and I nearly cry out from the sensation: from feeling sofull. His thrusts are almost painful, but when he pulls out of me only to slide back in, I throw my head back and lose myself to his touch. With one hand, he lifts my hips, taking me just as he wants; penetrating me as deeply as he can, telling me that he wants this, too. He wants this moment; he needs to free himself inside me.
“Oh, fuck,” he growls, as soon as he realises that he’s done it: I’m completely his.
He slides into me breathlessly, his thrusts deep and forceful; he lets go of my back and traces his hand along my thigh, pushing me upwards with his knee so that he can take everything, leaving nothing behind.
Nick moves, his sandy body writhing against mine, scratching at me, holding me hostage. With his teeth, he torments one of my nipples, which are hard and painful from his touch. I dig my nails into his back, feeling his muscles swell under my fingers, as he places a hand on the sand to steady himself, preparing to thrust even deeper inside me.
I don’t feel the cold, the burning sand, the fear that we could get caught. I only feel my excitement growing; the smell of the sea air mixed with Nick’s scent on top of me, his cock pulsing, leading me to climax.
Nick stops for a second and lifts himself up. He pulls his cock almost completely out of me, but I can still feel the tip, waiting to push back inside.
He looks right at me, his eyes making love to mine. I can feel the longing, first in his gaze, then in his entire body, which trembles the moment he’s inside me again. He thrusts powerfully, almost bending me in half.
His movements grow quicker. He dives into me without coming up for air, as I empty myself and my mind, focusing entirely on his thrusts; his desire slamming against me, pushing me into paradise.
My moaning breaks the silence surrounding us.
“Oh, fuck yes. Now,” Nick cries, before I feel myself fill with his liberating heat.
He slowly lowers himself on top of me, leaning his elbows either side of my head. He looks at me, his eyes brimming with satisfaction. But there’s a glimmer in them that tells me that this won’t be the last time; it’s the same glimmer that he’ll find reflected in my own eyes. Because one thing’s for sure: I will always want more.
38
Nick
Ilie there on top of her, panting, still reeling in the heat of my orgasm; but I can feel the cold start to seep into my body.
We can’t just stay here like this, drenched through on the cold sand – so I begrudgingly lift myself up, bringing her with me.
“You’re frozen,” I say, rubbing her back.
I spin around, trying to find our clothes, but I realise that some of them must’ve been swept out to sea. Between the darkness and the tide, it’ll be impossible to get them back. I dig around in the sand, looking for my T-shirt, and hand it to her.
