Her eyes flash and she pulls her lower lip between her teeth. Kneeling on the bed, she lifts the dress over her head and throws it across the room. Her breasts spill over the cups of her white demi bra. Cupping them with both hands, I swallow hard as the full mounds perfectly conform to my palms, her nipples peaking hard against my skin.
“Look at these perfect tits.”
Dipping my head, I take one nipple between my lips and suck it through the fabric of her bra until her chest heaves, fingers digging into my hair. Reaching behind her, I unfasten the bra and whisk it away. Then I return to her nipples, sucking and toying and teasing each one in turn until she’s clawing at my shirt in desperation.
“Take me, Sebastian,” she says, her voice a throaty growl. “I’m ready to fuck.”
“God, I love it when you talk like that.”
“You’re a dirty old man,” she teases.
“The dirtiest.”
I step out of my pants and boxer briefs as she takes off my shirt, and then I push her back on the bed and soak up the sight of her lying there in her white lace panties, chest heaving with every lust-filled breath, pupils blown wide with desire. She’s fucking perfect. A fantasy come to life.
It takes me less than two seconds to rip her panties off and shove her legs apart. Burying my face between her thighs, I grip her hips and dig my fingers into her flesh as I lave her clit with my tongue. Her sharp gasps and frantic moans urge me on. I can tell she’s getting close. My cock throbs against the mattress as she thrashes beneath me, riding my tongue faster and faster. Any second now.
“Sebastian,” she pants. “Yes. Fuck, yes.Yes.”
Her taste floods my mouth, her thighs clamping tight around my head as she comes, grinding her pussy against my lips, myteeth, my tongue. I can barely hold myself back from climbing on top of her to fuck her while she’s still orgasming. But I manage to keep myself in check.
When I pull away, I look out the window and see the sun setting into the ocean, streaming gold and orange and hot pink.
“Look,” I tell her, pointing.
She turns onto her side. “It’s beautiful. Like a painting.”
“Don’t look away,” I say as I fish a condom out of the nightstand drawer and roll it on.
I curl up behind her on the bed, spooning her, slipping my cock between her thighs. We both watch the sunset as she reaches down and guides me inside her. I start to pump into her, right hand tucked around her body to stroke her clit, left hand cupping her breast. Fuck, she feels good.
She meets me thrust for thrust, her ass pushing back against me, moans spilling from her lips. Groaning, I pick up the pace until I’m slamming into her. Hard, deep, fast, losing myself in the liquid glide, the sound of our bodies slapping together, the jiggle of her tit in my hand.
“Oooh,” she whispers, her voice pitching higher. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“Yeah,” I answer back. “That’s it. That’s my girl. Watch that sunset. Don’t close your eyes.”
Her moans change, getting wild and harsh.
“I’m coming again,” she gasps. “Sebastian.”
“Fuck.”
Exploding into her, my eyes on the view out the window, I shiver with each jerk of my cock, with the feel of her pussy contracting around me, with each shared moan.
My phone rings from the pocket of my discarded pants on the floor and I vaguely remember I’m supposed to be somewhere right now. It doesn’t matter, though. I needed this. Blair’s naked,satiated body tangled with mine, my cock still spurting into her, my mind blissfully empty. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
18
BLAIR
Good morning! Your father and I are having breakfast with Ted Polansky in an hour. You should join us, sweetheart.
Groaning,I fling an arm over my eyes and shove my phone under the pillow. It’s not even 8 a.m. This is not how I wanted to wake up today.
Last night was so perfect. The yacht, the sunset, the sex (obviously), the amazing steak and scallops that Sebastian’s personal chef had prepared for us on the boat. I couldn’t stop thinking about the date after I got back to my room last night, so I tried to watch TV to distract myself and ended up marathoning way too many episodes ofBridgerton. Honestly, I’m still on cloud nine.
Or at least, I was until I got hit with this Ted breakfast invite before I’d even cracked open both of my eyes. I know I should respond to Mom’s text, but I don’t have a legitimate excuse to say no. And I’m definitely not going. The last thing I want to do on my remaining days of vacation is sit through an uncomfortable meal where my mother will no doubt try to play matchmaker for me and Ted. Not that he’d need muchencouragement from her. Considering the way he acted on the beach the other day when he helped me escape from that British guy, it seems pretty clear that Ted is into me.
