Trade (19 page)
Authors: Tabitha A Lane
With a groan, she opened her mouth
and stuck out her tongue to capture his.
His elbows bent, lowering his body
to hers. His mouth teased and tasted, feasted and sucked.
She wriggled under him, loving the
slide of their bodies. Edged her thighs open so his cock dipped between her legs,
close to where she wanted him.
He jerked his mouth away. “Fuck.”
He slid down her body, and roughly grabbed her knees spreading them apart, and
pushed his face to her cunt. Like a man possessed, he thrust his tongue into
her wetness, swirling it around her swollen clit, then sucked her into his
mouth.
She arched her back, looked down,
the sight of his dark head between her white thighs sending a wave of heat
through her entire body. His fingers stroked close to where his mouth was
making its magic, then he put two fingers inside her, moving in a crude
imitation of his cock. The air was filled with the scent of her expensive body
lotion mixed with her arousal, his fingers crooked inside her, finding her G-spot
with perfect accuracy.
“Ooh.” She couldn’t form words,
but there was no mistaking the meaning of the incoherent sounds she made. She
shoved her hands into his hair, forcing his mouth closer, grinding into him. His
wet tongue flicked her stiff clit, then his thumb took its place, rubbing the
sensitive bundle of nerves in a steady rhythm that fired sensation through her
entire body.
Her toes pointed then turned up.
The shiver began there, and travelled upward, swirling into her thighs, and her
most sensitive spot. Her thighs tightened around his head, as he licked her
again, his fingers stroking the cord of muscle at the top of her inner thighs,
then slipping under to cup her bottom. She shuddered at the probing of his
hungry mouth, brought her hands to her tits, rubbing and squeezing them as pleasure
thundered through her, forcing her surrender, delivering a release so
explosive, so entire, her entire body shook.
Her body felt soft, boneless, and
satisfied, as if all her vitality and strength had leached from her with the
intensity of her orgasm.
Sholto scooted up the bed, and
rested his head on the pillow. She twisted to her side, resting her head on his
shoulder as her heart rate slowed. His slipped one arm beneath her head, and
wrapped the other around her, holding her close.
“Did I tell you I love you?”
“You did.” He stroked her back.
“You showed me too.”
She traced a hand over his flat
abs, loving the way they twitched under her fingertips, and curled her hand
around his hard cock. “Your turn.” She slid her hand up and down, all the time
watching his face.
His eyes closed and his jaw
tightened. “I want to be inside you when I come.” He peeled her fingers away,
and rolled on top of her. “I want to feel your inner walls squeeze me.”
She kissed him as his cock slid
into her. Gasped as he thrust hard and fast. Squeezed around him, released, and
squeezed again, matching his powerful thrusts as best she could. He slipped, he
slid, he rammed. Her knees came up, feet flat on the bed and she shifted on the
cool cotton sheets, moving her body so every thrust hit her most sensitive spot
inside. He felt for her clit, rubbing it rapidly as he lunged into her.
Both of them were breathing as
hard as marathon runners on the final sprint. The air filled with the sound of
creaking bedsprings, the heavy thunk of the bedhead being regularly slammed
against the wall, and their incoherent cries.
She breathed in his scent,
burrowed her face into the curve of his neck, bit into his shoulder as his body
pounded. His fingers slipped under her, cupping her bottom, and angling her to
her side.
He pistoned into her aching, needy
cunt, holding nothing back, stiffening and gasping as the force of his orgasm
and hers started to engulf them.
“Deeper, deeper,” she urged,
wrapping one leg over his hip.
He looked at her through half open
eyes. Pulled her on top of him, his hands closing over her tits as she rode him
hard and fast.
She threw back her head and cried
out as her thundering orgasm hit.
He threw her onto her back again,
and continued to drive into her, his movements animalistic and uncontrolled. He
was wild, holding nothing back. Shouting her name as he exploded inside her. Her
heart filled with love, then shocked dismay as they slipped from the corner of
the bed, and tumbled onto the floor.
“Oh crap, what happened?” His eyes
widened.
The smile that spread over her
face was so wide her cheeks ached. She wrapped her arms and legs around him,
and started to laugh. His chest expanded with a deep chuckle, then he was stroking
her back, kissing her neck, and laughing right along with her.
“Melati, Miss Max,” Adam called over the noise of the
outboard engine as the island came into sight.
With a smile, Max whipped her hand
out of the translucent turquoise water, and shook the droplets from her
fingers. It had been six months since the day they promised to be together
forever, a month since she’d seen the man who’d claimed her body and stolen her
heart.
As the speedboat sped to shore,
she made out a solitary figure standing on the shore next to the white rock. A thick
growth of beard covered his face, but his wide, white smile was visible, even
at a distance.
Resisting the urge to throw
herself into the water and swim to him, she gripped the side of the boat as
Adam slowed, then killed the engine. Adam threw Sholto a rope, then jumped out
into the shallow water to pull the speedboat closer to the beach.
Sholto ran into the waves. “Hi,
baby. Come here.” He held his arms open wide, and bundled her into them.
With the warm sand of Melati under
her bare feet, and the man of her dreams in her arms, every fantasy she’d ever
had came true as he lowered his head and claimed her mouth.
Neither noticed Adam trekking from
boat to beach with the supplies they’d need for the next four days. Lost in his
taste, in the salty sea scent of him, Max ached to have him closer, to lose the
layers of clothes between them, and reconnect with him in the most primal way
possible.
“Mr. Sholto.” Adam’s voice was
apologetic. “I got to go.”
They edged a few inches apart, and
Sholto’s hand curled around hers, holding tight.
“Everything is out of the boat.
I’ll see you in four days.”
They said their goodbyes, and
within minutes the little white craft was speeding across the azure water once
more.
“How’s the filming going?” Sholto
was halfway through the
Solo
film shoot on a nearby island. She’d been
busy with work, and setting up their new home in L.A., deliberately busy, to
soothe the ache caused by his absence.
“Good.” He drew his thumb over her
bottom lip. “But I don’t want to talk right now. I want you out of your
clothes.”
Max grinned. “Right here?”
“No.” Still holding her hand, he
walked down the beach. “Here.”
A circular, Balinese hut stood on
the spot where once he’d made his camp. There was a deck around it, with two
wooden rocking chairs facing the ocean.
She looked at the roof. “What is
that, thatch?”
“It’s called alang-alang.” He
kissed her neck. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” She climbed the
couple of steps to the front door. “How did it get here?” She ran a hand down
the rough-hewn wood. “Doesn’t this ruin the whole castaway experience?”
“I did a deal with the island’s
owner. He rarely visits because of the lack of amenities, so I paid for the hut
and had it erected. Our arrangement is that we can use it when we visit a
couple of times a year and he can either rent it out or use it himself the rest
of the time. It’s basic—there’s no plumbing, but…”
He pushed the door open to reveal
a huge wooden four-poster, with filmy white drapes rippling in the breeze from
the open squares on both sides that formed windows.
“Wow.”
“Come see this.” He tugged her
hand out of the room, around the back of the hut. “I even got us a shower.” A
large wooden pole had been erected behind the hut, with a big circular barrel
on top of it, and a rope.
“I’ve seen these before.”
“In those old black and white
Tarzan movies, right?” Sholto’s eyes gleamed. “I designed it.”
“Does it work?”
He nodded. “I’ll show you. Later.”
*****
He sat on the bed and watched her take off her clothes.
Months ago, he confessed that seeing her strip slowly for him was one of his
ultimate turn-ons, and ever since she’d finessed the process to a level of sexy
seduction that would make a burlesque queen proud.
Her chin was dipped down, and she
watched him under a veil of dark lashes, a coy smile on her lips. She slowly unfastened
each button on her plain white shirt, keeping it closed, then unfastened her
pants and let them pool at her feet.
Then kicked them away.
He held his breath.
She shrugged her shoulders up,
letting the shirt slip from one shoulder, shimmied, so it gaped open, then did
some mysterious move that let the shirt drop to the floor.
“Pale pink silk. What are you
doing to me, woman?” His cock hardened at the sight of her half-naked body.
Her hands went to the fastener of her
bra behind her back.
“Do you want me to help with
that?”
She shook her head, and gave him
that smile, the smile she knew damn well made him desperate to be buried in her
wet heat. “I can manage.” The bra strap released, and she wrapped an arm around
her breasts as she slid the straps off her shoulders. Pink silk panties hit the
floor moments later.
“Come here.” He was through with
teasing, through with waiting, unable to keep his hands off her any longer.
She tumbled onto the bed, fingers
reaching for his chest.
“I’m not leaving this bed for the
next few days, and neither are you.” He wanted her with a passion that hadn’t
dimmed in the months they’d been together. But before he divested himself of
his clothes and plunged into her he had one other thing to do. A question to
ask.
His hand slipped under the pillow
and retrieved something.
She kissed his neck.
“Stop a second.”
She raised her eyebrows, and gazed
at him with surprised eyes.
“I have something for you.”
Her palm stroked over his
erection. “I can see that.”
“Something else.” He took his hand
from under the pillow and opened it to reveal his surprise. “I want you to
marry me, Max.”
Melati, where they’d begun, was
the perfect place. And even though he was pretty sure of her answer, his heart
still pounded like the waves hitting shore as she gazed at the pale pink
diamond glittering in the center of his palm.
“Fucking say something.”
“It’s beautiful.” Her gaze flicked
up to him. “I love you.”
“Does that mean yes?” Desperation
twisted in his gut.
Her smile was like the sun coming
out from behind a cloud. Dazzling, full of heat and joy. “Yes. Yes.”
He slipped the ring on her finger,
helped her strip off his clothes, then gazed up at the pale wooden battens that
formed the hut’s ceiling as she swung a leg over him, and pressed her core to his
cock. “Show me how much you love me,” she whispered against his mouth. “Show me
heaven.”
So he did.
The End.
Also by Tabitha A
Lane
Hazzard Blue
“You want to host
a sex party in my house? What do you think this is, Mr. Hunt, Eyes Wide Shut?”
Kathryn Hazzard needs
a miracle if she's going to pay her huge tax bill and urgently repair Hazzard
Hall’s leaking roof - inheriting the family stately home isn't the rose garden
it’s cracked up to be. When salvation turns up on her doorstep in the form of
gorgeous Daniel Hunt, can she risk her reputation by letting him use her
beloved home as the venue for his high class and outrageous sex party?
It's tempting. But
then lots of things are tempting, aren't they? It doesn't mean they're good for
you. Just ask Eve about that apple…
HAZZARD BLUE IS AN
EROTIC ROMANCE WITH NO CLIFFHANGER!
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