Page 79 of A Perfect Disaster

Maika picks up the pace. Her tongue finds my neck, while her fingers mercilessly work inside me. The contrast is fucking insane: the hot water, the cool wind on my skin, her fiery mouth… I feel the pressure building in my core until I explode. The orgasm washes over me like a shock wave on the high seas.

But I don’t even have time to catch my breath, because Maika moves quickly and, before I can process it, she sits on the edge, spreading her legs wide open in front of me, offering herself unreservedly.

“What’s up? Still hungry?” she asks with that mischievous, defiant smile.

I kneel in the water between her thighs. Her sex is swollen, glistening, and tempting. The scent of her arousal hits me, and I don’t wait a second longer. I taste her. God, she tastes like heaven, completely addictive. I lick her pussy from bottom to top, savoring every fold slowly before focusing on her clit. Maika lets out a loud moan that fades into the night, and her hands dig into my hair, guiding my movements, before I enter her without a second thought. She’s so incredibly wet that my fingers slide right in.

And when she asks for more, I’m only too happy to oblige.

I feel her hips pressing against my face with desperation. Her moans grow higher-pitched, more broken, and completely out of control. When she reaches orgasm, her inner walls squeeze my fingers with incredible force, and she moans my name into the wind at the bow. It’s the most fucking beautiful sight I’ve ever seen in my life: Maika coming, agitated, burning… and mine. Yes, mine.

We let ourselves fall back into the water, holding each other tightly as we gasp for air, letting the silence of the night envelop us. I feel the wind cool the droplets of water on my shoulders, but the heat radiating from us makes up for everything. I kiss her neck and the line of her jaw. She caresses my back, sliding her hands down to my buttocks to squeeze them tightly, pressing her hip against mine again.

“Who said we’re done?” Maika whispers with a dangerous edge to her voice.

She turns me easily, positioning me with my back to her, pressed against the edge. Her breasts press against my bare back, and one of her hands slides down between my legs from behind, rubbing my still-sensitive sex. I moan loudly, but the sound turns into a scream that I stifle against my arm when she thrusts into me suddenly, fucking me with a wild, steady rhythm, while the water rocks us.

“Tell me if you feel me, Helen… tell me,” she murmurs, biting my earlobe.

“Yes… fuck, yes,” I say, losing all sense of reality. There are no more to-do lists, no more order. There are only her fingers, her body, and her voice commanding me.

A second orgasm, far more intense and devastating than the first, hits me in the gut, making me tremble from head to toe.

From there on, we lose count. We change positions countless times. Maika sits me on her lap, face to face, and we never stop touching each other. We move together in perfect rhythm, kissing with relentless hunger, biting each other’s lips and tangling our tongues. The fingers of my free hand dig into her breasts. The pleasure builds in sync, like two forces of nature finding perfect harmony in the midst of chaos.

When we come together this time, the jolt is brutal. For the first time in many, many years, I feel like I belong somewhere. To her. To her chaos. I’ve found solid ground in the middle of the ocean. No matter how fleeting this journey may be.

Minutes later, we float there, embracing each other, letting the warm water lull us. My mind, exhausted and floating on a cloud of endorphins, begins to process what this means for the evaluation.

“Whatever happens with the job…” I murmur against her neck. “It’s impossible for me to see you as my rival anymore, Maika.”

She plants a tender kiss on my forehead, and I smile against her wet skin. Maika’s chaos has torn down all my structures, and I no longer have the slightest desire to rebuild them.

26

Maika

Dawn seeps in with an almost lazy slowness through the small slit in the curtain of Helen’s cabin, as if the Mediterranean Sea itself were dragging along the same delightful exhaustion that fills our bodies after our night of madness. My wrinkled uniform lies in a corner next to her immaculate shirt, mixed in with a damp towel, a lone shoe, and that professional dignity we both threw overboard without the slightest remorse.

I can still feel the tingle of her skin pressed against mine, the lingering warmth of her hands, and the intensity of her gaze when, at last, she decided to throw the manuals to the wind and devote herself to devouring me. I’m lying on my back, a smile etched on my face and my chest still heaving, while the ship moves steadily toward Cagliari.

Suddenly, I feel the mattress shift. Helen is sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped in the white sheet up to her waist, her perfect back exposed. And suddenly, I see her wearing her black-framed glasses—a devilishly sexy sight. “I’m going to have to ask her to wear them more often.” Seeing that she’s holding the tablet, I let out a hoarse chuckle.

“Please tell me you’re not actually working.”

Helen looks up over the screen, and for a second, that warm, sparkling look from a few hours ago returns to her eyes.

“I’m just going over some safety notes…” she replies in her usual calm tone.

“Let’s see. We’ve committed at least three offenses against maritime decorum tonight, and you’re reading deck reports. Seriously, you need to see a doctor,” I comment, propping myself up a little on my elbows.

“They weren’t offenses,” she retorts immediately.

“I don’t know… I’d say we violated at least Article Fifty of the company regulations,” I joke.

She blushes a little, turning a charming shade of red. I love teasing her.

“Don’t exaggerate, Maika,” she murmurs.