Linda Gayle

by Surrender to Paradise

  “Do not worry.” Moana kissed her knuckles then gave her hand a pat. “There are plenty of palm fronds. We will make our own coverings.”

  “We will?” Rahiti shook his head, but Moana was already tugging Lyric toward the hut. He had no choice but to follow.

  Walking behind the pair, he had to admit they were suited. Lyric’s creamy, pale skin and curvy form complemented Moana’s lean, dark body, and he had her laughing already over something Rahiti couldn’t hear, trailing behind as he was. Moana and his charm. He scraped his nails across his scalp as an almost physical pain thrummed through him. The fear that he’d lose her to him as he’d lost Mohea pierced him like a dagger.

  He struggled against the darkening of his thoughts.

  Chapter Six

  The palm-frond loincloths were a bust, so Moana and Rahiti ended up improvising with the beach towels and a couple of belts and pins Lyric had brought with her. Moana’s attempts at fashion had her laughing to the point of tears as he sashayed in front of the hut. “Oh my God, Moana. You should totally be a model.”

  “I don’t know what that is,” he said, thrusting out a hip and striking a pose, “but one time Rahiti and I saw some sort of bathing-suit competition on a dock, and this is how they stood.” He pushed out his chest, dropped his chin, and pouted dramatically, and even Rahiti, who had been pretty stone-faced, had to smile.

  “Is a model like a village crazy person?” he asked.

  “Yeah, sometimes.” Lyric shook her head, snickering. “What about your feet? Can you make shoes?”

  “Our feet are tough.” Rahiti showed her the callused bottom of one of his.

  Hitching up his makeshift loincloth, Moana joined them. “It does seem that we have returned with exactly the bodies we left behind.”

  “Well, that’s lucky,” Lyric said. “It would suck if you came back hundreds of years old, all wrinkly and whatnot.”

  “Suck?” Moana asked, an unabashedly hopeful note in his voice.

  She quirked a smile. “Nowadays that means it would stink—be a bad thing.”

  “Sucking is not a bad thing where we come from.” He none-too-subtly nudged Rahiti, who shrugged, although she could see a muscle in his jaw tighten, and beneath his bronzed skin, a flush rose. Hmm, interesting. They seemed awfully tight. Maybe they did more than take a nap while she was away? She wished she could have seen that. Lyric squirmed a little as erotic images floated through her mind. What got her the wettest was thinking of somber, in-control Rahiti losing it while Moana swallowed his cock down his throat.

  Jesus! Where were these thoughts coming from? She’d never so much as watched gay porn. Not that the idea of these hotties wrapped around each other didn’t do it for her. If her damp bikini bottoms and heavy breasts were anything to go by, she’d discovered a new fantasy for herself.

  Fanning her burning cheeks, she turned away. Guess she couldn’t be near these two without her brain diving into the gutter. It sure seemed happy wallowing around down there because it started conjuring images of her on her knees before them, lapping first at one cock, then the other, then taking each one deep. With her back to the guys, she brushed her fingertips across one tight nipple, felt the sensation spiral all the way to her belly, and bit her lip to stop a groan. Fuck, she’d never been so horny.

  “We better get going,” she said, sounding breathless. “Sooner the better.” Before she burst into flame.

  Part of the problem was that, during the couple hours they’d been trying to perfect their loincloth design, besides being largely naked, they’d never missed a chance to touch her. Moana was especially fond of kissing her hand, the tender underside of her wrist, and brushing his fingers up from the small of her back to her nape whenever he passed by her. Rahiti wasn’t quite the flirt, but he stood near her so his body heat and delicious sea-breeze-and-man scent wrapped around her like a protective cocoon, making her want to lean into him and feel all those rippling, hard muscles against her skin.

  On top of that, they made her laugh. Just their amazement at the indoor bathroom and flushing the toilet had her in stitches, and best of all, they laughed right along with her. God, it’d been months since she’d felt anything close to happy. Since she’d even smiled. That was pitiful, but it was what her life had become. Damn it, she didn’t need to remember the mess still waiting for her at home, especially when she had her dolphin-men to cheer her up, and to make her needy and achy. Ugh, her pussy had developed a mind of its own. At least the walk into the hills would take her overactive imagination off their bodies. A good hike would wear her out physically.

  At least that was the plan.

  As they walked together, though, into the verdant-green hills on a path only the two men could discern, Lyric felt as if she was leaving civilization behind and entering some sort of magical paradise. Moana danced around her, picking gardenias and bougainvillea that he wove into a fragrant crown for her. He set it on her hair and swept a bow. The hot-pink and yellow petals hung into her eyes, and she brushed them back just as Rahiti scooped her up in his powerful arms and carried her over a fallen log, then set her gently on her feet.

  They asked her a million questions about the outside world, and she asked about theirs, finding some similarities among the myriad differences. She was impressed by how much they knew about life on land. They really had devoted themselves to listening in on conversations of boaters and fishermen and anyone who swam with them. They were both so bright and curious, she was dying to take them off the island and show them some of the wonders she described—like airplanes. She could just imagine how much that would amaze them. The fact she was starting to think of a future that included them in it should have worried her, but what the hell. She was in paradise with two amazing men who couldn’t seem to get enough of her. Why not let her worries go for one day?

  “Rahiti, remember when we had the footrace here?” Moana and Rahiti walked slightly ahead of her, clearing the way of low-hanging branches for her. Almost the same height, they strode shoulder to shoulder, and she noticed again the funny synchronicity to their movements. It made her smile behind their backs.

  “I remember you cheated,” Rahiti answered loftily.

  Moana snorted. “You cheated. You took the shortcut.”

  “There was no rule about which path to take. We were racing from one side of the hill to the other. I happened to know about the shortcut.”

  “You mean you made the shortcut.” Moana dropped back a step to explain to her. “Days before the race, he secretly notched the branches so they would break out of his way. He made it back to the village a handspan’s time before anyone else. Except for me.” He jabbed a thumb into his chest. “I was hot on his heels because I knew he had something planned.”

  “Always the follower,” the bigger man remarked gruffly.

  “Ha, the smart fisherman knows to follow the gulls to the catch.”

  Rahiti glanced back at her. “I had no idea he was behind me. I thought I’d won the race, and I’d slowed down before the torches that marked the finish. Then out of nowhere, this skinny boy bolts past me.”

  “And I won the spear!” Raising his fists above his head, Moana skipped up and down, laughing.

  Rahiti shook his head. “How I hated you for that.”

  Moana slapped his shoulder. “I did you a favor and taught you a valuable lesson. Always watch behind you.”

  Rahiti grunted and pushed an enormous branch out of his way. Then he ducked and let it swipe back into Moana’s face. “Always watch in front of you, too!” he yelled before bolting down the path.

  Moana yelped when the palm fronds smacked his face then sputtered something ugly and shot off after Rahiti. If she hadn’t heard them laughing and probably swearing at each other in their native tongue, Lyric would have been worried, but instead, she rolled her eyes. “Boys will be boys.” Holding her flower crown to her head, she jogged in the direction of their voices.

  She found them just in time to see Moana jump on
to Rahiti’s back and bear him to the soft, leaf-and moss-covered ground. Rahiti tumbled, taking Moana with him, and they began to wrestle in earnest. It wasn’t just play-wrestling, though. Wow, they really knew what they were doing. This must be some form of island martial arts. Sweat-slickened arms and legs slid together, grappling for a calculated hold. Rahiti, the stronger of the two, bared his teeth and worked one arm around Moana’s heaving chest to haul him back against him while Moana angled his legs to hook them around Rahiti’s. Sunlight dappled their slick bodies. Aggressive sliding and shoving threw towels aside. Tight friction and huffed breaths matched the straining of their muscles. Their stiff cocks swung and bobbed with their tumbles, and Lyric squeezed her thighs together against the incredible heat gathering in her pussy.

  She’d never seen anything so erotic in her life.

  Strength won out, and Rahiti soon had Moana pinned belly down. He straddled the backs of Moana’s thighs, his hips driving his opponent against the earth. One hand curled around the back of Moana’s neck, crushing his cheek against the loam, the other trapping his arm. Rahiti looked more than a little pissed off, and a lot more than a little turned on, and beneath him, eyes scrunched closed, Moana snarled out a ferocious protest and bucked his butt up into Rahiti’s groin. Their chests heaved, and sweat gleamed on their rippling muscles. Moana gave one last, futile effort, and Rahiti growled. “Submit.”

  Lyric sucked in a tiny breath, all she could manage past the thumping of her heart, and when Moana slid one eye open and caught her staring, she knew what he must see. A rumpled woman with her flowers askew, flushed and gasping, teetering on the verge of orgasm.

  “Rahiti,” he muttered, his words partially muffled by having his head shoved into the ground. Then he said something in that language she didn’t understand, but Rahiti looked her way, and the intense animal lust he aimed at her needed no translation. He held out his hand. As if drawn by a leash, she went to them. Rahiti slid off Moana to stand, and Moana heaved to his feet. Leaves and debris stuck to their glistening skin, and Lyric wanted to lick them clean. Rahiti had lost his towel completely. His thick, blunt-headed cock stood at attention, heavily veined and ruddy with arousal. Her nostrils flared as the scent of their masculine sweat washed over her in a hot wave, primitive and arousing.

  “Well,” Moana said, dragging the back of his hand across his cheek, “what prize for the winner?”

  “A kiss,” she said, her mouth dry, her body thrumming.

  Rahiti smirked at Moana and began to step toward her, but she lifted a hand. “A kiss,” she said again, and she tipped her head toward Moana.

  The slighter man grinned savagely, clearly understanding, while Rahiti stepped back, eyes narrowing. “Lyric,” he said, his voice low and strained. “Are you sure?”

  “God, yes. You…please.” If she ever made sense again, she’d bother to explain. It seemed they all spoke the language of lust, though, because Moana and Rahiti looked at each other, turned face-to-face. Moana clasped Rahiti’s arms and drew him in then slanted his mouth across the other man’s. When Rahiti gave a guttural, almost helpless whimper and opened his mouth to his friend’s insistent tongue, Lyric slid her fingers over her swollen clit through her shorts. Oh, that was so hot. How far could she push this?

  As if in answer, Moana drew back to look at her. He ripped his towel away so she could see his equally long and impressive cock, his other hand still possessively tight around Rahiti’s biceps. “Come here, Lyric.” His murmured request might as well have been a shouted command. She could not resist it. He drew her to him and greedily covered her mouth with his, while hands slid over her back and under her shirt—his hands, Rahiti’s? It didn’t matter. She just wanted hands on her, lifting her T-shirt over her head, peeling away her bikini top, finally, finally, freeing her breasts.

  His tongue plundered her mouth, and he clasped the back of her head, pulling her deeper into his demanding kiss. She put her hands on his burning-hot chest, her palms flattening over his nipples.

  Fingers plucked at the snap on her shorts, dragged them down along with her bikini bottoms, and then cool air washed over her thighs. A big hand rubbed firm circles over her butt cheeks, and she cocked her hips back against the teasing pressure even as she suckled Moana’s tongue. Please, please, she chanted mentally, swaying her hips back and forth. Her pulse drummed deep in her cunt. Then the hand coasted to her front, up her belly, under her breasts, and she knew it was Rahiti leaning into her from behind, his intense heat covering her back.

  She gasped when his fingers tightened on her nipples, hard the first time, pinching, pulling, just what she needed, and she ripped her mouth from Moana’s to give a long, low mewl of pleasure.

  Moana brushed the hair away from her face then turned her so she could lean against him, and now his fingers stroked and rolled her nipples. “Look at how Rahiti wants you,” he murmured into her ear. “His cock stretches toward you. Does your honey gather between your thighs? Do you want him to drink from you, sweet Lyric?”

  “G–God, yes.”

  He cupped one breast and lifted it for Rahiti’s hungry mouth. The sight of Rahiti’s dark head at her tit, his bronzed cheek against her pale, sun-sheltered skin, had her pussy clenching, and she let her head roll back against Moana’s shoulder. Rahiti drew at her with strong, rhythmic tugs, and her hips jerked in synchrony with the delicious sensations contracting deep in her womb.

  “Yes, our woman,” Moana breathed into her ear. He licked and nipped at her earlobe and suckled the side of her throat. Oh fuck. Was it possible to come just from someone licking and sucking at your nipples and neck? She dug her fingers into Rahiti’s thick, black hair as he moved from one breast to the other, driving her crazy. Rubbing against her ass, Moana’s hot erection branded her. She couldn’t take much more of this torture, couldn’t stand it if they stopped. She wanted him inside her. Then there was Rahiti… His dick bobbed in the air, a shiny bead of pre-cum weeping from his slit, wanting her as Moana had said.

  Moana’s hand left her breast to smooth over Rahiti’s head. “Rahiti,” he said then continued on briefly in their shared language, the fat, rolling vowels uttered in his smoky voice promising something decadent even though she couldn’t grasp the meaning. Shining eyes gazing up at her, Rahiti sank to his knees, and at her ear, Moana whispered, “We will treasure you, our woman.”

  His face at the level of her cunt, Rahiti leaned in and inhaled her deeply then spread her swollen lips with his fingers. He suckled her pussy lips, his tongue skating over her clit, which felt as big as a marble, tasting her, savoring her, and Lyric groaned. He ate her like a starving man—which maybe he was, considering he hadn’t been with a woman for so long.

  She clutched at Moana’s arm, holding her tight beneath her breasts. He’d begun to rub his cock into her ass cheek, and his breathing was as reckless as hers. She rose up on her toes with a strangled cry when Rahiti used the flat of his tongue to stroke her cunt from her entrance to her clit, spreading her farther open with his blunt fingers.

  “G-God…” She writhed when he teased her oversensitive clit by sliding the hood of skin up and down over it while his mouth suckled at the juices flowing freely from her. Moana dropped his hand to her thigh to coax her to open even more to his friend’s hungry mouth, and she did, shivering, trembling on the brink of climax they masterfully balanced her on.

  Behind her, Moana shifted, and she felt the firm tracking of his fingers as they coasted down her spine, over her butt, and then, oh God, then, finally, they reached her pussy and circled around her sopping hole. Why didn’t he push them inside her? Rahiti managed to lick and suck every part of her but her clit, and his partner only teased her, neither giving her what she wanted.

  “More,” she gasped. Sweat had broken out over her skin, and she dug her fingernails into Rahiti’s scalp, not caring if it hurt.

  With a dry chuckle, Moana slipped his fingers into her, stroking, stretching, and she twisted her hips, already so close. “W
e know what you want, what you need. Trust us, Lyric.”

  As if cued by his words, Rahiti widened the sweep of his tongue, drawing her cream up over her clit, circling, then diving in to thrust against Moana’s fingers, as if he fought Moana for possession of her body. Moana withdrew. Rahiti’s tongue plunged in as she canted her hips forward to give him access. Then Rahiti returned to her clit while Moana finger-fucked her pussy. Never before had she even dreamed, in her wildest fantasies… Her body was not her own. It belonged to them, to the two men racing to bring her to orgasm first, fingers and tongues thrusting, pushing, stroking.

  Her toes tightened, her ass, her cunt, her throat clenched, and then she screamed out her joy as she bucked in Moana’s embrace. Holding her thighs spread wide, Rahiti devoured her, driving her higher. Her vision blanked, her mind wiped clean.

  After a moment, or maybe ten, she slowly opened her eyes. Moana still held her, and Rahiti’s hands were on her waist, stroking and soothing. They were kissing, the two men, over her shoulder, Moana sensually licking Rahiti’s lips, his chin, the inside of his mouth, as if gathering her flavor and essence from him. Upon seeing she’d returned to the land of the living, Rahiti smiled and kissed her. Their tongues slid lazily together, and her own flavor burst into her mouth. Fuck all, she felt wrung out, her body pinging and twitching with salacious aftershocks.

  Then she saw Rahiti’s cock, still engorged, dripping pre-cum, and felt Moana’s erection at her back and knew she had to return the favor.

  Moana thanked Kanaloa and every other god his fevered brain could name when Lyric eased herself from his embrace and dropped gracefully to her knees. Her small hands wrapped around his cock and Rahiti’s, drawing them together so she could stroke her tongue around one swollen cockhead then the other. He pumped his hips forward, brushing the fat tip over her lips, sliding over Rahiti’s dick. Ah yes, so good.