Like Lovers Do

by Tracey Livesay

  He broke their kiss and stroked his thumb across the wetness he’d left behind.

  “Have you fucked on a hammock before?” he asked, his parted lips so close to hers that she tasted his words more than heard them.

  Her nipples hardened. “No.”

  “Then I get to be your first.”

  He sat on the hammock and shifted his body, swinging his legs up and over until he straddled the netted fabric. Then he grabbed her by the waist, and lifted her until she was settled on his lap, facing him. He’d handled the entire maneuver with an ease and an aplomb she found incredibly sexy and led her to wonder . . .

  “Will I be your first?” she asked slyly.

  He stared at her with a fevered longing that made her shiver. “The first to make me go out of my mind with wanting her? Absolutely.”

  His hands settled on her waist, their size underscoring her petiteness. Beneath her, his thighs were hard, his cock an impressive bulge pushing against her core. Her mouth watered.

  “You made a lot of statements the last time we talked about this,” he said, the tip of his tongue peeking between parted lips.

  Sliding a finger beneath the strap of her dress, he eased it down her shoulder. Goose bumps arose from her skin at his touch.

  She lifted her arm free and bit back a moan as he repeated the gesture on the other side. “The last time?”

  He slid the fabric down her chest. “When you texted me.”

  Oh. Right. She tried to respond, only to gasp and throw her head back as the material abraded her sensitive nipples and pooled around her waist.

  “That picture you sent has been engraved on my brain for a week. I’ve dreamed about these beauties, stroked myself to completion thinking about them. Now, let’s see how often we can make you come.”

  Who was this man? Where was her easygoing roommate and friend?

  His words were more potent than any drug or spirit, lulling her into a hazy reality where he—and the sensations he aroused in her—was her sole focus.

  He had morphed into the sexual partner of her deepest fantasies.

  And she was here for it.

  He pressed a hand into her midback, arcing her forward until her nipple hovered in front of his mouth. She inhaled when his lips puckered and he blew a stream of cool air against the nub. Her gasp morphed into a moan when he devoured it with his tongue. She clutched his shoulders in desperation as electricity shot through her and molten heat oozed to her core.

  “Oh God, Ben. Please. Don’t stop.”

  Sex was something she controlled. Something she enjoyed when the urge moved her. But she’d never been this wanton, this consumed by the feelings tearing through her. She was a leaf, swept up and blown along by a tornado of desire that was uncontrollable. Out of her hands.

  Ben transferred his attentions to her other nipple, but continued to pluck the wet one he’d left behind. Nic’s fingers clasped his skull and she gripped his head close to her. All sensations were centered on her breasts and it started to overwhelm her. As if they couldn’t be contained in one place. The feelings had to spill out, move somewhere else before she exploded. She began undulating her hips against his stiff cock and when that wasn’t enough, she tilted her hips until her clit was rubbing against his fabric-covered hardness.

  “Damn, Nic. You’re so fucking hot. You’re driving me crazy.”

  The friction was unbelievable. Indescribable. Between that and what his magical tongue was doing to her nipples, she was one throbbing mass of unthinking, pure feeling pleasure.

  His breath was the perfect backdrop to her feelings. Hearing how it increased, seemed heavier, hotter, thicker . . . He breathed with exertion, like a man possessed. Crazed. By her.

  She expected it to take a while. It usually did. Her clit wasn’t “easy.” So she was surprised when, minutes in, she began to feel the stirring low in her belly followed by the familiar whole-body shivers. She wanted it to last, but trying to prolong the feeling was like walking across a gossamer thin tightrope. In stilettos.

  Impossible . . .

  She screamed as the orgasm bloomed from her core and ripped through her.

  “Fuck yeah, baby,” Ben moaned. “Come for me.”

  He reached a hand between them, pushed her panties aside, and slid two fingers into her drenched heat.

  “Ben!”

  The intrusion prolonged her climax. She clenched around the digits and bucked against him, trying to draw out every last drop.

  “That’s it, baby. That’s it,” he said, his other hand plucking her stiff, so sensitive it ached, nipple. “You’re so goddamned beautiful and wet . . .”

  When the last wave receded, leaving her spent, she rested her forehead against his and tried to breathe in as much air as possible.

  Wow.

  Just . . . wow.

  Thank God she was a doctor and understood the medical logistics behind what had just happened. Because it could’ve been misinterpreted as something holy. Divine. Had that just happened? Had Ben given her one of the best orgasms of her life? She also needed to thank her mother for that talk. Because if Nic ever believed that what she’d just experienced was tied only to this man, she’d never want to leave him.

  Ben brushed the curls off her forehead and they kissed, their tongues tangling in a sensual dance. He lifted her off him—the ease with which he continued to do so was sexy as hell!—and laid her back in the hammock. Rising over her and straddling her limp, pleasured body, he took her hands and wrapped them around the wooden post anchoring one end of the fabric swing.

  He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Don’t let go.”

  “You’re bossy,” she said, playfully pouting.

  “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No. But don’t think you’re going to get your way in the bedroom all of the time.”

  “We’re not in the bedroom,” he said, with a wicked grin.

  Good point.

  “Then carry on,” she said, with as much aplomb as she could manage considering her pussy still quivered from the orgasm he’d given her only a minute before.

  He chuckled and reached for the waistband of her panties, sliding them off and dropping them on the grass. Lifting her leg, he nuzzled her ankle and skimmed his tongue along her calf.

  She moaned. Since when had her ankle become a fucking erogenous zone? She bit her lip and watched him from beneath lowered lashes.

  He let her leg fall then positioned the other so her bent knees braced his hips. Lowering himself, he pressed kisses along her spread inner thighs, the heat from his breath teasing her sensitive flesh. When he reached her pussy, he palmed her, an air of something close to reverence emanating from him. Then he sealed his hot mouth over her and all spiritual thoughts drifted away on the salt-scented breeze.

  She hummed and shifted closer as his tongue slid between the creases and folds of her sex, dipping and delving between her nub. The man was skilled and caring, taking his time to taste every inch of her vulva. She gripped the wooden rod and held on tight as he tugged on her flared lips and flicked her sensitized clit with the tip of his tongue.

  “So fucking sweet,” he murmured.

  Her nipples were aching turgid peaks, her breasts felt full and swollen. She played with them, the sparks of pleasure building on—

  What the fuck?

  She opened her eyes. God, he was a beautiful sight between her thighs! His cheekbones were flushed and his lips glistened.

  “What are you doing? Don’t stop,” she protested.

  “You let go.”

  “Dammit, Ben—”

  “You stop. I stop.”

  She’d make him pay for this. And she’d enjoy the hell out of it.

  Later.

  She gave him the evil eye but she reached for the post and the sensual onslaught began again. He ran his tongue around the entrance to her pussy, sneaking quick flicks inside that drove her crazy. Her legs quivered and since she couldn’t touch him, she squeezed his face with
her thighs and rubbed herself against him as the pressure began to build until, once again, she was carried away on the crashing waves of pleasure.

  She struggled to catch her breath and when she opened her eyes it was to find Ben watching her, with a heated intensity she wanted to remember for the rest of her life. His mouth was moist with her juices and she scrambled up and straddled him, licking his lips, his chin, anywhere she’d marked him. He squeezed her bare ass beneath her dress as they kissed, their combined tastes turning her on.

  She wanted him. So much she thought she would pass out from the need.

  “Next time I get to sample you,” she said, her fingers trembling as she unbuttoned his pants.

  “I can’t wait.” His voice was barely more than a growl.

  And then his cock was in her hand and she was stroking its veiny thick length, reveling in the smoothness of the skin over the steely hardness beneath.

  “Beautiful,” she whispered.

  Cum pearled on the meaty cap and she spread it with her fingers.

  Fuck.

  “Now I can’t wait. Just one taste.”

  She leaned forward and swirled her tongue around the head. Ben hissed out a breath and threw his head back, his fingers clenching her curls. She chuckled and glided her tongue along the seam on the underside of his cock, inhaling his musky masculine scent. When she reached his sac she pressed her tongue into the space between his balls, drawing one into her mouth. He groaned, tilting his pelvis toward her and she alternated between the sensitive glands encased in the soft, delicate skin.

  She wanted to do more—how would he feel about a little ass play?—but her own impatience prevented her from savoring him as she would in the future.

  Next time.

  She moved up his body and braced herself above him, staring down into eyes as fevered as her own.

  “Condom?”

  Realization pierced the lustful fog. “Shit! No. I didn’t think to bring them. Davis or Palmer probably have some.”

  They both looked back at the house.

  So far away . . .

  “Dammit!” Ben wrapped his arms around her waist and she rested her chin on his hair. Both were breathing heavily.

  “Go get one.”

  He pulled away and stared up at her. “Now?”

  “Now.” She leaned back against the hammock and stuck two fingers in her mouth. Keeping her eyes glued to his, her tongue laved the digits, getting them wet. She spread her legs. “I can occupy myself while you’re gone.”

  His Adam’s apple worked as he swallowed. “Don’t come until I get back,” he ordered.

  “You’d better hurry, then.”

  Hopping off the hammock, and getting briefly tangled in the ropes, which made her laugh, he buttoned his pants and took off for the house.

  She bent an arm behind her, rested her head on her elbow, and slid her fingers down between her wet folds. She couldn’t believe she was about to have sex with Ben. Images of him flowed through her mind.

  Making sure she ate on her rare days off when she was chained to her desk working on research or studying for rotations.

  Taking care of her when she was super exhausted or not feeling well.

  Laughing next to her on the couch while they watched a show or a movie.

  The things he said echoed in her head like a playlist on repeat.

  “What if I start with my hands? Gently cover those breasts, then press them hard against you, as your nipples pebble against my palms?”

  “You know where else I want to put my mouth? On your pussy. I’ve dreamed of spreading your thighs and tasting your sweetness on my tongue.”

  “I’ve dreamed about these beauties, stroked myself to completion thinking about them. Now, let’s see how often we can make you come.”

  She arched her back and cried out silently as the sensations poured through her. Again.

  “Damn, Nic,” he breathed.

  She looked up to find him standing over her, his hands at his sides, a condom packet clenched in his fist. His cock was at eye level and close to ripping through his shorts.

  She turned her head and licked her lips. “I need one more taste.”

  He pulled it out and, gripping the dick at the base, slid it into her open mouth.

  He sighed. She moaned.

  She swirled her tongue around his shaft as she played with her pussy. Out in the open with the air against her heated flesh and the sounds of the waves and nature, she could’ve spent another hour in that exact position. But Ben’s tortured “Fuck!” and withdrawal and the tear of the condom packet prevented that.

  He slid the condom on his engorged length and gingerly settled onto the hammock. He crooked his finger. “Come here.”

  She straddled him and then with one lingering kiss, lowered herself onto his shaft.

  They both groaned at the melding.

  She enjoyed that brief moment of connection until urgency had her moving up and down on his steely length. He reached up and took a nipple in his mouth and she grabbed the edges of the hammock and braced herself, enjoying all of the sensations crashing within her.

  “Do you like that?”

  She nodded, unable to verbalize her approval. Bracing her hand on his calf behind her, she leaned back and began playing with her clit.

  “I’ll never get enough of watching you touch yourself,” he said, seeming to push the words between clenched teeth.

  His admiration warmed her. She loved how her pleasure seemed to bring him pleasure. She rotated her hips and clenched her pussy against his shaft.

  “Fuck me,” he moaned.

  “I am.”

  Her breathing hitched and tension coiled low in her belly.

  “Ben!” She screamed as she came, unable to believe her body had another one in it, overwhelmed by the sensation that ripped through her. Her pussy pulsed against his cock, its hardness a brace that prolonged the rapture as it ricocheted from pleasure point to pleasure point. She sobbed when the last swell departed, leaving her an awed, satiated husk.

  His fingers gripped her hips and he took control, pistoning his hips upward and driving into her welcoming flesh. Over and over.

  “Fuck. Oh fuck. I’m coming, Nic! I’m coming, baby!” he bellowed, his face tight, the tendons in his neck on display, when his own release burst through him.

  “Well, damn,” he said later, when they’d regained their breath and the ability to speak. “I thought we were friends.”

  “What?” She planted a hand on his chest and lifted herself on wobbly arms to stare at him. “Of course we’re friends.”

  “I don’t know,” he said with a grimace and a shake of his head. “Real friends can’t wait to share their good experiences and you’ve been keeping this to yourself for three years.”

  She laughed. He was incorrigible!

  She rubbed her nose against his. “If you can maintain that stamina, I promise to make up for lost time.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Watching Nic’s ass sway as she climbed the short but steep stairway inside the Edgartown Lighthouse, Ben resisted the urge to grab her hips, pull those peachy cheeks back toward him and take a bite out of the firm flesh.

  But just barely.

  His willpower was given a hefty boost by the fact that they weren’t alone. Though the tourist attraction wasn’t busy, there were several other people, including a family with three small children, taking advantage of the mild morning weather. He was pretty sure Nic wouldn’t appreciate a picture of them, with his face smashed into her rear, going viral on Instagram.

  He wouldn’t mind. Being with her last night had rocked his world. It was more than an itch he’d needed to scratch. He’d realized he’d barely grazed the tip of the iceberg. There was so much more he wanted to do to her. Wanted to experience with her. Wanted to have her do to him. This trip wouldn’t provide enough time. In fact, he didn’t know how much time he’d need.

  “My quads are cursing up a storm. After the workout
they had on the hammock last night, and again this morning, they are not enjoying these steps.”

  Nic winked at him over her shoulder and his knees buckled. He’d told Davis he knew the sex between him and Nic would be good. He’d highly underestimated that. It had been superb. Unreal. Out of this world.

  After their ride in the hammock, they’d sneaked up to their room like mischievous teenagers and he’d attempted the gargantuan task of trying to slake his desire for her. Between her slim thighs, staring down into her flushed face, he honestly didn’t know if it would ever be possible.

  Being with her had also brought out his selfish side. He’d wanted to memorialize the occasion alone, just the two of them. Not dealing with Davis’s comments or Tinsley’s wounded quietness. So he’d awakened her in the wee hours and lifted her leg onto his hip. He’d slid into her from behind, pulling on her taut nipples, capturing her moans and sighs with his tongue until her pussy gripped his cock with her orgasm and he’d buried his face in her shoulder and given in to his own release. After sharing a shower, punctuated with laughter and kisses, he’d driven her into town to have breakfast at a little cafe, followed by a walk, and a visit to the lighthouse.

  He’d just had undeniably great sex with his friend. What was better than that?

  Could anything ever be better than that?

  But a tiny part of him wished it had been bad. It would’ve made the eventual ending of their arrangement easier.

  When they reached the top of the stairs, Nic pointed to the large red light that sat on a metal platform in the middle of the glassed-in space.

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s the beacon that would aid boats and ships by directing them to their destinations. Back in the early 1800s, the original Edgartown Lighthouse was built to safely guide in large whaling vessels. It’s no longer needed to help with navigation, but it’s a part of the town’s history and was restored in the ’80s.”