by S. C. Daiko
He jerked, biting his lip.
Our eyes locked and said everything we couldn’t or wouldn’t say.
I positioned him at my entrance.
He stared deep into my eyes.
Achingly, I slid myself little by little onto him.
My legs quivered and my vision blurred.
It hurt.
It hurt like a bitch.
But I could take it.
“You okay?” he asked. “Go as slow as you need. We can stop if it gets too much for you.”
Within seconds, though, the pain had lessened, and a throbbing kind of pleasure had replaced it. When I’d absorbed as much of his length as I could, I paused and sucked in a breath.
His hands caressed my waist and he pushed into me the final inch, like he was inserting more than just his body but his heart inside me too. We stilled a couple of seconds, quaking, our breaths rasping. Then we groaned together, and he thrust up.
My soul opened to him, welcoming him like a long-lost part of itself.
He makes me feel complete.
Spinning me over, he laid me down.
His hands clutched my splayed-out hair.
He thrust again.
I dissolved.
My legs opened.
My fingers grasped.
And my body summoned him deeper.
“Christ, Aly.” His mouth found mine and together we rocked to the same desperate rhythm, our tongues as frantic as our bodies, our mutual need driving us toward the same goal.
Thrust after thrust, I spooled tighter into a rocketing surge of heat.
Thrust after thrust, my desire and love for him intensified.
I orgasmed, crying out his name as the ripples of release washed over me.
“Gonna come on your tits, babe,” he grunted without warning, withdrawing his cock and shunting his body up mine.
I laughed at his dirtiness.
My damaged, dirty alphahole.
He spasmed and jerked, and his milky white seed splattered all over my breasts.
After kissing me deeply, he lifted me in his arms and carried me down to the lagoon, lowering me gently into the water and washing me clean with the gritty sand.
He lay back on his elbows with me leaning against him between his splayed-out legs and he nuzzled the skin behind my ear. “I love you, Aly. I love everything about you. You belong to me now, and I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”
“I love you too, Brash. I love you so much.”
“Call me Ben, babe. That’s my name. I don’t wanna be Brash anymore.”
I turned in his arms and kissed him. “Ben,” I whispered. “I love that name.” And I did, almost as much as I loved the man himself.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Anaan
Lying in the hospital bed, I blink my eyes open and gaze at a young nurse wearing a head scarf. My memory started coming back a few days ago and now I remember almost everything that happened. I’ve been a patient in Thinadhoo for the past six weeks, they tell me. Suffering from exposure and shock— which is why I blanked out the plane crash.
At first it was as if I was grasping at leaves blowing in the wind as I tried to piece together the circumstances of the accident. Even my name, Anaan Hussain, eluded me. A doctor said I’d been brought in by some fishermen who’d found me floating on a life raft in the middle of the atoll. Tomorrow my brother, Mushan, will take me home to Addu, but today I will need to give information to the authorities and meet with the father of the blonde woman who’d been taking photographs. He’s in the capital organizing the search, apparently. Frantic about his daughter’s welfare; he has offered a reward for her safe return. He will be distraught to find out she has almost certainly died.
I stare at the ceiling of the hospital ward, clutching the soft white sheets and listening to the sounds— patients groaning, nurses chatting, trolleys rattling. The smell of antiseptic fills my nostrils. With a heavy sigh, I close my eyes. There’s still something I haven’t remembered, something important, but, for the life of me, I can’t work out what that is.
Later, the doctor confirms that my brother will be here in the morning. I give an account to a senior officer from the local police and, after lunch, the policeman returns accompanied by a tall man with gray hair and a moustache. He introduces himself as Mr. Abramovich, draws up a chair and sits by my bed. “You came down in Huvadhoo Atoll?” he gets straight to the point.
“Yes, sir,” I confirm.
He swipes a hand over the sheen of sweat on his broad forehead. “That’s an area of over one thousand two hundred square miles. About the size of Rhode Island,” he mutters. “We’ve flown over a few times but, not knowing where you crashed, we’ve had to spread our resources, search the other atolls and open sea between them as well.”
“We were heading north.” I go on to tell him as much as I can remember, my belly knotted with regret. “I’m sorry for your loss, sir.”
“Loss?!” He points a shaking finger at me. “I. Am. Not. Giving. Up. On. My. Daughter. We’ll go from island to island until we find her.”
“Sir, there are over 255 islets in the center of the lagoon, more than any other atoll of the Maldives.” The officer’s voice is low-pitched and steady. “Only about twenty are inhabited…”
“I’ll increase the reward to a million dollars now we’ve narrowed down the search area,” Mr. Abramovich says firmly. “And I’ll direct my own operation to checking out the uninhabited islands. I promised my wife and son I’d find her, and, so help me God, I will do so.”
Mr. Abramovich goes on to complain that Mr. Collins has proven himself to be irresponsible by not getting me to file a flight plan and not installing a tracking device on the plane. I tell him it’s not a requirement as we fly too low to be tracked by radar. The life raft had been fitted with a personal locator beacon, but obviously it hadn’t worked. “I’m sorry, sir,” I repeat.
“What a fucking train wreck,” he growls. “When I find that motherfucker Ben Collins, partner or no partner, I will sue the hell out of him for risking my daughter’s life.”
I swallow hard. I can’t speak. All I can do is nod.
Mr. Abramovich rises to his feet, and he fixes me with a steely glare. “You’d better start looking for a new job, Mr. Hussain. You’re fired from the All Seasons Hotel. Forget about asking for a reference,” he adds. “You’re a lousy pilot.” And with that he spins on his heel and leaves the hospital ward.
I collapse back on the pillows and pinch the skin at my throat. My mouth turns dry with worry. The accident wasn’t my fault. I hold my arms tight to my body, searching my memory for what I’ve forgotten. Like a bolt from the blue, an image comes into my mind of a scrawny man rowing away from the seaplane where it had been docked at the resort shortly before we took off. We ran out of fuel, but that was impossible as I’d refueled before we left. Could the person I’d seen have sabotaged the fuel tank? And, if so, why?
I rub my hand through my hair. If Mr. Collins had enemies, they’ve achieved their aim and have killed him. He and Miss Abramovich stood no chance of surviving the crash without a life raft.
No chance whatsoever.
Chapter Seventy-Five
Brash
I tied the prototype securely to an outcrop of coral and dove down to where I’d left the trap yesterday. During the past three weeks since the contraption had pitched up in the storm, we’d eaten a lobster for lunch almost every other day they were so plentiful around the reef. No luck today, however; the trap was empty. Movement caught my eye; I jabbed with my spear and narrowly missed a grouper. After pushing myself upward for air, I dove down again and, this time, managed to catch a red snapper. The lean, firm texture of the pink flesh would taste sweet and fresh with a mango salsa.
I took the fish to Aly. My heart drummed at the sight of her working so diligently on her self-imposed tasks. She’d finished weaving a mat for us to sit on and was focusing on making a cover for the raft I was building.
<
br /> Raking my eyes over her, I drank some water from our always filled-up bottle. When we fucked, I so wanted to come inside of her, but that would be foolhardy. If she got pregnant and gave birth on this island, she and the baby might die. Just the thought of it pained in my gut.
“Gonna go do some work on the raft now, babe,” I said, shifting the hard-on in my shorts.
“Cool,” she dimpled.
God, she was beautiful. Beautiful and mine. I’d do everything I could to keep her safe; I loved her so fucking much.
I bent and kissed her soft lips. “I’ll help you with lunch later.”
We got to work. I was obsessed with getting us off the island and had been building the raft almost non-stop since the storm. I was constructing it to be much bigger than the prototype, able to stay afloat for a long period of time. Aly’s plastic covering would protect us from the elements, but I still hadn’t resolved the problem of storage space for food.
I thought about how much I’d changed in recent weeks, how Aly had changed me. How she’d made me realize I could love again.
I was an only child until I was five, and then I had a sister. Except, Becca never felt like a sister to me. At first, we were besties. Olivia had been her best friend, before Dad and I moved in next door to Becca and her mom. Becca always said she had a boy bestie and a girl bestie, and I didn’t mind. Olivia lived in a manor house in the middle of the English countryside, only saw us on playdates, whereas Becca’s and my front yards were accessible to each other through a hole in the hedge.
Catrin, Becca’s mom, and my dad fell in love. Both were hurting from losing their partners in tragic circumstances. I guessed they’d found consolation with each other, much like Aly and I had done. Afterwards, something happened which almost tore our two families apart. Dad and I moved to the States and I went off the rails. It was only after Catrin and Becca came to live with us that I settled down. Becca grounded me, made me less volatile. Although we dated others in high school, we never stopped being protective of each other. I always thought it was a done deal that we’d end up together.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Olivia would visit with us every summer. She and Becca shared a room and I pretended to be crushing on Olivia when it was really my stepsis I was in love with. I decided I’d make my move when we were adults— unless she started dating someone seriously beforehand, which never happened.
Olivia subsequently went through a period of appearing to have fallen for me, but I was building up my business empire and too busy to respond. My heart only wanted Becca— cute pint-sized redhead with freckles, sapphire-blue eyes and an infectious giggle. Little Miss Sunshine, her mom used to call her. And she was.
I made my move when we both started living in New York. That’s when she told me she loved me like a brother, could never love me in a sexual way like a woman should love a man. I didn’t realize she wasn’t that into men. I knew she and Olivia were roommates, renting an apartment in Queens, but it never occurred to me they were more than that.
So, I became a playboy, resolved never to risk my heart again. When Becca and Olivia came out and subsequently got married, I deliberately arranged to be away on a business trip. I couldn’t bear the sight of the two of them together; it hurt too much.
Tipping my head back now, I stared up at the endless blue sky. I no longer experienced that pain. The wounds had been healed. When we returned to the States, I’d be able to look them both in the eye and wish them well.
All thanks to Aly.
“Lunch is ready,” she called out.
Shit, I was supposed to have helped her.
“Coming,” I called out sheepishly.
Pussywhipped, much?
All I knew was I’d do anything for her, like I was one hundred percent certain she’d do the same for me.
We have each other’s back.
After finishing the meal she’d prepared, I told her we should start eating raw fish to get used to consuming what I’d catch for us when we escaped on the raft.
“You mean like sushi?” She took my palm leaf plate from me and threw it onto the fire. “I can live with that…”
“Good,” I caught her around the waist and positioned her in my lap. “We’ll have more chance of being found out in the middle of the atoll,” I said, nuzzling her behind the ear. “Easier for a plane to spot us.”
She scratched a mosquito bite on her arm. “My only worry is there’ll be a storm like the one we had before. We’d stand no chance of surviving.”
“Don’t think I haven’t thought of that, babe.” I trailed my hand down to her panties, slipped it inside to stroke her pussy. “It’s a risk. But a risk worth taking if we’re gonna to be rescued.”
“I hope so,” she sighed.
I kissed her. God, how I kissed her. My arms gripped tighter. My erection throbbed harder. And my groan echoed in my ears like thunder. I rubbed my body against hers, the heat between us sparking.
Our heads tilted, our breath mingled, our souls danced.
She is my alpha, my omega, my everything.
Her fingers latched around my cock, stroking me through my shorts. My eyes snapped closed, and a heavy groan fell from my lips. “Christ, that feels good.”
I pulled down my shorts and rocked my cock into her palm, and she shivered as she pressed her thumb against my tip.
“That’s perfect, baby.”
I lowered us onto the mat, tucking her into my side. She carried on stroking. “I love having this sort of power over you,” she dimpled.
My eyes closed again as she squeezed a little tighter. “You’re a minx, Aly. Time to get my own back.”
I laughed and slid down her body to settle between her legs. I pulled off her panties, and my face hovered over her pussy. I breathed in her sweet musky scent and slicked my tongue over her clit.
Her back arched and she moaned as I licked her again.
I cupped her with my mouth, drawing circles around her nub.
“Oh, God,” she mewled, her hands in my hair.
She petted me without stopping as my tongue worked faster, harder, stronger.
Her shoulders lifted off the mat and she came, her hands yanking my hair, her body quaking while my fingers rubbed inside her. I soothed her with my lips. Her tremors became spasms and the spasms turned into aftershocks.
“I love how wet you are for me.” I raised myself over her, my arms holding my weight. “I love YOU, Aly.” I swept my tongue into her mouth, so she could taste herself on me, know that I owned her.
I kissed her with ferocity and sweet compassion. Brutality and calm tenderness. “You’ve made me complete,” I said softly. “And I’ll never stop loving you, now that you’re mine.”
“I’m holding you to that.” A smile gleamed in her eyes as I kissed her again before rolling her onto her stomach.
“You’re so beautiful, babe.” I touched my mouth to her nape, shoulder, shoulder blades, and I kissed and kissed my way down her spine. I rolled her over to face me again, capturing her in my gaze. My hands drifted from her collarbone to her breasts. Cupping both, I breathed heavily as she moaned beneath my touch. My fingers twisted her nipples, eliciting a whimper of pleasure from her.
“God, I want you,” I rasped.
She placed her hands behind her head, offering herself to me. “Make love to me, Ben,” she said, opening her legs and readjusting our bodies so my hips slotted between us.
“How do you want me?” I fisted the base of my erection and guided my cock to her entrance.
She panted while I smeared my tip with her wetness.
“Do you want me like this?” I slid in slowly, sheathing myself and claiming her. “Or do you want me like this?” I pulled out, then thrust back into her. Hard.
“Both. I want both…”
I rolled my hips, brushed her swollen clit with my pelvis, and sunk my entire length into her hot wet cunt. “Whatever you want…I’ll give you.”
“Oh…please�
��” Her eyes flickered as I thrust slowly, then quickly, deep and then shallow.
She’s mine to take and control.
She clenched around my cock. “Give me everything,” she pleaded.
I grasped her wrists and kept them pinned behind her head, gripping her with white-knuckled force. “I’ll give you everything. I’ll never stop giving you everything.”
I thrust fast and firm, relinquishing the slowness for a rapid pace. Biting pleasure rippled with every thrust.
She was lost to me, unable to control her whimpers. I kept my fingers clutching her wrists and devoured her mouth with mine, then nipped and bit at her neck the faster I drove into her.
I grew rougher the more my lust consumed me. Her legs spread out and my cock swelled inside her. We were stripped to a level of the basest needs as we rutted like beasts.
“Christ, Aly.” My groans sounded guttural in my ear. “Come. I need you to come.” I let her wrists go and slotted my hand between us, my fingers pinching her clit. I pushed down hard on her, thrusting my cock and swirling my hips in circles.
She lifted herself to meet me.
“That’s it.” I stretched her, filled her. “I want to feel you come, babe.”
She fits me so fucking perfectly.
“Oh, yes. There, there, there. Ben,” she gasped. “Don’t stop…don’t stop.”
“I’ll never stop.” I squeezed her throat gently with one hand and clamped the other on her waist. “You’re so damn hot. I want to come. And you need to, so I can.”
She came for me within seconds, crying my name— and not a moment too soon.
I pulled out, sat on my knees and fisted my cock, grunting as my balls drew up tight into my body. I tossed my head back and, with a bellow, squirted white cum onto her lower belly.
Collapsing onto my side, I tugged her close. Our sweat-sticky bodies melded, and I pressed my lips to her forehead.
