I don’t protest. My body begs for more.
I roll my hips to meet his hand, rocking against his fingers and chasing every excruciating tendril of pleasure with an intensity I’ve never felt. Every muscle in my body tightens as my toes curl, my skin heating like fire. He withdraws his fingers and draws tiny circles between my legs.
“Shhh…” he warns as he finds the most sensitive part of me. My breaths start coming faster, sharper.
When it’s clear I can’t follow directions as well as I promised, his hand covers my mouth to stifle my moans.
“¿Te gusta así? Does that feel good?” he asks, knowing I can’t respond.
His words embolden me, intoxicate me, lure me into oblivion. His pace quickens, he knows just where to touch,how to touch.
Have you dated men like me?he asked earlier.
Now I concretely have my answer.
I cry out and his hand tightens on my mouth, enough to send me careening into the hottest, most excruciatinglylongorgasm of my life. I rock against him, unbothered by the audience one deck below us. Nothing exists in those few seconds as he cradles me from behind and his skilled hands continue wringing out every ounce of pleasure I have to give him.
It feels like ages before I regain my shaky breath. Full-body shivers still pulse through me. Eventually, begrudgingly, I open my eyes. The sun blazes overhead and I have to blink a few times to adjust to the searing brightness.
Cristiano doesn’t move except to fix my swimsuit under the water, carefully resetting my bottoms so they cover me once again. He eases his hand off my mouth and then lowers it to tenderly rub over my pulse point on my neck with his thumb like he’s apologizing for being a little rough with me. I’m sure I’ll be red there, redeverywhere, but I don’t mind one bit.
A burst of laughter from the aft deck is like a fire alarm to my senses. I jerk and pull away from Cristiano, only realizing after I’ve spun completely toward him that my bikini top is still askew and my tattoo is underwater.
No!
I yank my arm out, wincing at my soaked Band-Aid. I’m too embarrassed to even look at Cristiano.
“Here, come,” Cristiano tells me. “We can put on a new bandage inside.”
He’s already rising out of the pool, stepping over the ledge and reaching for two neatly rolled towels arranged on a lounger nearby.
I didn’t mean to leap off him so suddenly, but now…
I can’t help myself from looking at the bulge beneath his swim trunks.Oh.My eyes widen, then I look away as I quickly adjust my top. All thatcome hitherenergy has been zapped out of me. Now that Cristiano has temporarily burned off the edges of my desire, insecurity starts to rush in in its wake.
I don’t look at him as I climb out of the pool and try to accept the towel he holds open for me. He doesn’t let go of it, and I realize that he intends to wrap me up inside of it, burrito style.
I laugh.
And it feels so good, chipping away at my nerves.
Finally I meet his eyes with a shy smile. “I feel like I should say thank you.”
He tips his head in question. “For the towel?”
I bite down on my bottom lip as a flush spreads up my neck. “No. Theother thing.”
His dimples frame his panty-melting smile as he nods. “Come on. There’s a first aid kit down in my room.”
Cristiano leads me back down the stairs. Beth passes us in the hall, and there’s no hint of recognition in her expression regarding what Cristiano and I have just done. She asks if we need anything, and Cristiano tells her to bring a few bottles of water to his stateroom.
She gives a reverent nod. “Right away, sir.”
I arch my brow at Cristiano, and he pushes me on. “I forget sometimes how important you are. I should be calling you sir,” I tease.
“It’s a little late for that now…” He prods me forward. “Come on. If we linger much longer, the others will notice.”
I glance at him from the corners of my eyes. “Would you care? If they did?” I hate that my voice comes out a little weak.
