by Haymore, J.
“I’m going to remember what it’s like to take off your clothes.” He started to unbutton my shorts. “How your skin feels beneath my hands.”
My shorts dropped to the floor. I stepped out of them, and he picked them up and laid them over my shirt.
He ran a fingertip over a mosquito bite on my thigh, then over another one on my arm. “I’m going to remember every mosquito bite, how I told you not to scratch, and how you scratched anyway.”
He knelt down to kiss the mosquito bite on my leg, tugging my panties down over my hips. They joined the growing pile on the counter.
Reaching an arm behind me, he flicked open the clasp of my bra and pulled the straps forward over my arms. “I’m going to remember tasting you here, how you respond to being tasted.”
His breath skittered across my skin as he bent forward, cupping one of my breasts. They felt heavy and full. My nipples tightened, and my whole body tensed in anticipation.
“Take off your clothes.” I’d had more than enough of him being fully clothed when I was naked. “I want to see you too.”
He seemed happy to comply. Within seconds, his clothes were scattered across the floor.
His eyes were infused with an intensity that sent shivers crawling up my spine. He moved away from me, and I admired the square shoulders and the indents on the sides of his butt as he turned on the shower, letting the water heat up a few moments before reaching for me and pulling me in with him.
We stood under the strong spray and joined in a delicious, wet kiss. I pressed my body to him, flattened my breasts against his ribs, wrapped my arms around his waist, and splayed my hands over his back.
He turned me around so my head was directly beneath the stream of water, and he moved tendrils of hair away from my face. “I’m going to wash you.”
He started with my hair, massaging shampoo into every strand, every inch of my scalp. Then he stood behind me as I rinsed, his fingers combing through my hair as the shampoo was washed away.
“My turn,” I said.
He grinned, his hand snaking down the side of my body, over my butt. “Okay.”
I pushed him down on the bench and stood between his legs as I poured a dollop of shampoo on his head. As I massaged it into his hair, he palmed my breasts, running his thumbs over my nipples. A spreading flush coursed through my body, and I threaded my fingers into his hair as he took my nipple in his mouth, sucking gently, flicking the tight bud with his tongue while he toyed with the other, squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger.
After taking the soap from the dish beside me, I rubbed it down the back of his neck and over his shoulders, all the way down his arms to his hands, where I disentangled them from my breasts. He looked up, his lips full, glistening wet. He had the sexiest lips.
Kneeling down, I soaped his chest, careful not to miss an inch. Then I ran the soap over his cock. It was slick and smooth but solid in my hands. I slid my fingers up and down it, over and over, moving my thumb over the head and swirling around it until the pressure between my legs built so much, I shifted from one knee to the other, unable to stay still.
I set the soap down beside him. I’d planned to hold him, to stroke him until the soap was rinsed off, then take him into my mouth, but I felt a vibration, a tension beneath his skin, and I looked up at his face. He was watching me closely, his jaw set.
“Take it slow,” he said between clenched teeth.
Neither of us would be able to take anything slow once I had him in my mouth. Hating the thought of leaving his cock unattended, I drew his hand to cover it.
“You take care of it for me, then.” I carefully smoothed the soap over his inner thighs. He held his cock loosely, hardly moving, keeping to his command to take it slow.
I slid my soapy hands down one of his muscled legs, then the other, and then took his feet into my lap, cleaning them thoroughly.
“Stand up,” I commanded. He obeyed, and I felt a smile curling my lips, liking being in control for a change.
Making sure he kept his hand on his still-hard cock, I nudged him so that he faced the back wall of the shower, then I soaped down his back and his ass, reaching around to re-soap his chest, paying special attention to his nipples. As the soap rinsed away, I followed with my mouth, kissing his back, kneeling to nip at the hard cheeks of his butt.
“Now you’re clean,” I murmured against his firm skin, knowing that when we got out of the shower, he’d still smell of salt and sun in spite of all the soap.
“But you’re not,” he said.
“Not yet.”
He swiveled around. “You will be soon.”
Taking the soap from the bench, he turned me and smoothed it over my back, then over my behind and down the backs of my legs. His movements were strong, purposeful, not lingering like mine had been.
He turned me around again and washed my front the same way, swiping over my skin with smooth competence, then directing the showerhead to rinse me off. I thought he might linger at my breasts, play with them, but he passed right over them with businesslike efficiency, leaving them tingling, aching for more.
There was only one place left to wash.
“Sit,” he said. The intensity of his stare unnerved me. I looked away and sat at the edge of the bath seat, focusing on breathing in and out. He positioned the showerhead to direct the stream between my legs. “Open for me.”
Moving the soap in his hands until they were covered with white lather, he spread my knees wide apart and lowered his body between them.
First he washed the outside, lathering my curly hair with the soap. I wiggled and thrust myself into his palm. I wanted him so badly. Forget about all night. I wanted him now, in the shower. Feeling my hands clenching and unclenching, I whimpered. “Kanoe, please…”
“Please what?”
“Make love to me.”
He let out a loud breath. Close to a moan, but not quite there. “I am making love to you.”
“I need you so much, it hurts. Touch me.”
He ran his soapy fingers over me, across my sensitive inner folds, stroking either side of my clit but not touching it. Streams of water touched it, though, sending a buzz through my whole body. I was so slick from the soap—no, not from the soap, it must have all washed away by now. Leaning back against the cold shower wall, I felt all my muscles constricting, starting to contract. He was driving me toward the edge, and he knew it.
“Ku’u nani,” he said. “So beautiful, Celeste. I’m going to remember you like this, all red and swollen, slick and open for me. Begging for me to touch you, to suck you.”
“Then do it,” I groaned. “Please. Take me in your mouth.”
Ten days ago, I would never have imagined begging a man to go down on me. But here I was.
I watched him come closer. His tongue swiped over his lower lip. Using both hands, he spread me open with his fingers, then dove in, moving right to my clit and sucking it hard.
The climax came instantly. I shattered around him like glass, moaning his name. His hands slid under my thighs and cupped my butt cheeks, somehow holding me together. If he hadn’t done that, surely I would have melted right into the black tiles on the bath bench.
In one smooth movement, he turned off the shower and drew me to my feet. Keeping one arm around me to support my weight, he draped me with one of his fluffy navy-blue towels, lifted me, and carried me into his bedroom.
“I’m going to remember how you look after you have an orgasm,” he said as I leaned against his tattoo. “Flushed all pink, sleepy and satisfied.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmured.
“Sorry for what?”
“Being sleepy.”
He laughed and set me gently on the bed. “You think it’s a bad thing? How else would I know I’m doing my job?”
“Mmm.” I stretched across the bed as he toweled off. “I don’t know. I could tell you.”
“Could you?”
“I’ll tell you now. You know you’re doing you
r job because you turn me inside out, you expose me, and then you make me feel like there could be nothing better in the world.”
“Do I?”
I snuggled into the big towel, thinking about all the new things I’d discovered about myself in the last week and a half. “You dig into a part of me I thought nobody would ever uncover, and then you go deeper. You teach me things about myself I never knew before.”
“Ah…ipo.” He tied the towel around his waist and sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at me. “You make me feel the same way.”
Helplessness flooded through me. I curled my body around him, pressing my face into his thigh. He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.
I wanted to ask him what we were going to do, where all this left us. But I knew where it left us. Right where we had started. We only had tonight, and then it would all be a memory. I’d have to survive without him, somehow.
You’re in love with him, Celeste.
If this was love, why was it so painful?
The answer came right away. Because it can’t last. There was no way it could last. I’d be on a plane in ten hours, flying away.
“Hey, hey, stop that,” he said. “We’re only thinking of today, right now, remember?”
“I remember,” I whispered. Suddenly I wanted desperately to please him, to make him remember this night as I would. I tugged at his towel. It fell open, and I climbed out of the bed, moving to kneel between his legs. I couldn’t suppress the smile that quirked my lips upon seeing him hard and ready.
“Let me make you come with my mouth.” I looked up through my lashes at him.
“Do you want to do that?”
My mouth already covered the top of his cock. Feeling his shudder, I licked away a bead of moisture. “Very much.”
I spread tender kisses up and down him. I could taste him and smell him, and as I had suspected, the soap didn’t mask either his flavor or his scent.
With one hand stroking his cock, I slid the other one up to caress his chest, circling one nipple with my fingertips, then the other. Tension hummed in the taut muscles beneath his skin, and he pulsed in my mouth, growing even harder.
I swirled my tongue around his head, and then kissed it once. He groaned softly and bucked into me. It was all the encouragement I needed. Holding the base, I drove my mouth downward, feeling him pushing against the back of my throat, and then more, taking all of him.
He groaned again. “Ipo…”
I loved being in control of his pleasure like this. I redoubled my efforts, feeling my own body tighten as if linked to his by an invisible bond. As I drove my mouth down, down, down yet again, I whimpered into his hot skin.
He made a strangled noise. “God, your mouth feels so good on me.”
Squeezing with my hand, I ran my lips upward, over the ridge of the head, then sucking him up again greedily, roughly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hands clenching the dark bedspread.
I moved faster, sucking, sliding, stiffening my lips, wrapping my free hand around his thigh, pulling him closer, deeper inside my mouth. He throbbed under my hands and lips.
A moan ripped out of his body, and he came, pulsating in my mouth. I sucked him hard, swallowing every drop. I had never done it like this before, but I wanted to give him this special thing, to let him know I’d take all of him gladly, to somehow communicate that I trusted him.
He collapsed back onto the bed, and I crawled up beside him. His eyes were closed and his face slack. I kissed him softly.
“Did it feel good?”
One arm slid around my waist, drawing me close to his body. “Oh yeah.”
“Do you taste yourself on me?”
“Ungh…” He tried to pull away, but it was a weak effort. I reached behind his head to hold him close and slipped my tongue into his mouth. I draped my leg over his body and ran my foot along the back of his calf, feeling his warm, hard flesh from my mouth to my toes. Heavenly.
“Are you sleepy now?” I asked, pressing my lips to his cheek.
“A little,” he admitted.
I fingered the lines of his tattoo, tracing the outline of the ti leaves winding through the tapa design. How had this adventure with me affected his life’s path? Hiwa had said he was falling for me, but what effect could ten days of love have on a whole life?
“Why don’t you take a nap, then? I’ll go work for a while.”
His hold on me tightened. “Oh no. Don’t think you’re getting away from me that easily.”
I squirmed in his grasp, chuckling softly. “And what exactly did you have planned? I’m wide awake now, so I thought I’d give you a rest, then maybe wake you up in a couple of hours.” I grinned wickedly at him. “For more.”
“Who said I needed a rest?”
My heart tripped. “Really?”
A look of astonishment must have crossed my face, because he laughed. “You’re so innocent sometimes.”
Already, I could feel him hardening, pushing against my stomach. Sliding my hand between us, I grazed his cock with my fingertips.
His eyes narrowed, and he moved over me, turning me to my back. Just having him loom over me like this, seeing his chest and shoulder muscles flex, seeing his tousled black hair, still wet from the shower, the determination in his eyes, made my nipples ache, made my throb for his touch between my legs.
“I love being beneath you,” I said.
“I love having you beneath me.”
He kissed me, starting at my jaw, traveling down my neck, marking me with nips and sucks. Wincing, writhing, I pushed his head harder against my skin. I wanted him to mark me, wanted to leave with evidence that I was his. I tangled my hands in his hair, so cool and damp compared to the scorching heat of the rest of him.
His lips brushed over my collarbone, lining it with kisses, then swiping a burning trail down my chest. He nipped playfully up the under slope of one breast and took my nipple in his mouth with a strong, deep suck.
I gasped, and my body bowed off the bed at the excruciating combination of pleasure and pain. A hot spark ran a path from my nipple toward my clit like a fuse to dynamite.
I cupped my pussy and squeezed, trying to stop the orgasm or encourage it, I didn’t know which. He moved down my belly, his teeth grazing my skin.
“I see what you need,” he murmured, nudging my hand away.
His mouth covered me, and I lost all capability for rational thought when, moments later, his fingers thrust into me.
“Kanoe…Kanoe…” When I came, I came with my whole body. Every muscle went rigid, every nerve screamed release. A warm waterfall poured from the center of my core into every fiber of my being, gushing, drenching me in pulsating heat.
Kanoe didn’t take his fingers out of me, but he slowed his movements, rubbing that spot deep within. I quivered and throbbed around his fingers. He kissed his way up my body, but still he kept his fingers inside, stroking me gently.
Lying beside me, he captured my lips with his mouth. He crooked his fingers inside me, and I bucked and gasped.
“You are so wet,” he murmured. “So hot.”
His movements intensified, focused on that one spot.
“Not another one,” I sobbed into his shoulder. “Not so fast.”
“Just hold me, Celeste,” he said, and thrust hard.
I climaxed again, my scream muffled by his flesh, my nails digging into his back.
He made me come over and over, so many times I lost count. Maybe it was two more times, or thirteen. Or maybe it was just one long, never-ending orgasm with steep, ruthless peaks, each one nearly killing me. Each time, I was more helpless, more outside myself. My body dissolved and became nothing—the only thing that existed was harsh, overwhelming, overpowering pleasure.
When he at last pulled his fingers out of me, tears ran down the sides of my face in rivulets, smearing against his shoulder. He held my limp body in his arms, rocked me, made soothing noises into my hair, kissed the tears away.
“I’m sorr
y, ipo nani. So sorry. I got carried away. Did I hurt you?”
His look was earnest, concerned. Almost nervous.
“No.” I sniffed. After moving my lead-weighted arm, I framed his jaw in my hand, struggling to find a way to explain how I felt. How could one experience such happiness and such sorrow at the same time? And how could physical sensation reflect that?
And how could I gather the energy to even try to explain? I would treasure this moment for the rest of my life.
“No,” I repeated.
“Can I…?” He swallowed. “I want to be inside you. Will I hurt you?”
“No.” I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more in my life than to have him inside me. “Make love to me, Kanoe.”
He turned away and sheathed himself with a condom as I stroked his back. When he faced me again, he said, “I want to watch you the whole time, watch as I move inside you.”
Too breathless and weak to speak, I nodded.
He positioned himself over me, rimming my entry with his cock. The tissues were so sensitive, I gasped when he brushed over my clit. Slowly, he pushed into me, invading my body until he was fully seated inside.
It began slowly, like a rolling sea, as he thrust gently. He watched me closely, and I gazed at him, fighting the urge to close my eyes and let my head loll back so I could lose myself in sensation. Every nerve inside me came alive, evaporating my weakness until I started arching up to meet him.
“Celeste,” he murmured. I felt raw, exposed, but I wanted to open myself to him, to share it all. Even the love I knew must be shining in my eyes.
His jaw locked, and beads of sweat broke out across his forehead. I knew he must be holding back.
“Take me,” I whispered. “Only me. Forever.”
The tempo of his thrusts increased, and his breath began to come out in short gasps. Still, he watched me, and there it was in his expression, in his eyes. Love.
Suddenly, I couldn’t bear it. It weighed me down, made me remember that I’d be on a plane tomorrow, leaving him. I closed my eyes, pretending a long blink. He rammed into me, hard, and I gasped, opening my eyes again. The love was still there, but raw need was edging it out. I encouraged it.
