by L. B. Dunbar
“I don’t have a fiancé,” I replied softly, held frozen by the gaze of his moss green eyes.
“Yes, you do.”
“Not yet.”
He blinked at me, taking in my full face for a moment before glancing at my lips.
“Irish,” he breathed. “Let me kiss you to apologize, then hold you while we sleep,” his voice was raspy, and I felt stripped of my clothes, just from his words. I wanted nothing more than to be kissed by him like he kissed me the other day. But if I was honest with myself, I wanted everything from him.
“Please,” I breathed.
I stood at the kitchen counter the next morning, cool tile under my feet. I stared at the coffee machine as if willing it to work faster. My mind recalled the night before, and my fingers tapped against my lips, as I remembered the feel of Tristan’s mouth on mine in way of an apology.
He kissed me slowly, gently, taking his time in a torturous caress against my lips. When I thought I might combust from the building ache of need for something firmer, harder, more aggressive, he attacked. I was so relieved when his mouth claimed mine finally, that I pulled my body flush with his as I slipped my arms around his neck. I used my arms as leverage to line up our bodies, but he might have been doing the same as his hands moved from my cheeks to my hips. My body had a mind of its own, as I ground into him in response to his kiss. I moaned with satisfaction at the pressure of him against me. He forced his tongue inside my mouth. Smiling in welcome against his lips, a purr rumbled from my throat. He had a flavor, too. I was overwhelmed with sensation as my tongue tangled with his, my lips fighting for control, and my center throbbing as it pressed against him.
He was gentle at first, as the intensity built while I pressed against him, rubbing my center over the length of him. I could feel how hard he was, bulging against the zipper of his shorts. My dress had ridden up to my hips, and my thin underwear wasn’t preventing me from feeling everything. I was wet again. I felt it without him telling me. My hips took control and I wrapped a leg over his thighs. His hand slid down to that thigh, and he gently pulled it up and back, up and back, establishing a rhythm against him.
“You okay with this?” he said against my lips.
“Yes,” I sighed and he attacked my mouth again.
His hand tightened on my leg. He tugged me harder against him. He was pressing back against me as much as I was pressing into him.
“I need you to know, this isn’t what I intended to happen,” he said between kisses.
“And if you keep this up I can’t be held responsible for the mess I will make in my pants,” he kissed me more.
“But if we stop right now, I might lose my mind,” he groaned, as he kissed me again, sucking my lip as he pressed into me hard.
The throbbing between my legs had become an obsession, as I rubbed against him and squeezed my thigh around his hip. My heel dug into his back and he grabbed my ass, holding me in place along the length of him.
“My Irish Isle,” he groaned, as he kissed a trail down my neck. I tilted my head back to allow him better access.
“Ireland,” he moaned, as he sank his teeth against the juncture of my shoulder and neck. The pressure matched the heaviness between my legs. I exploded against him. I actually felt a liquid release as my sensitive center pulsed with indescribable pleasure. I squeaked with satisfaction. Squeezing my thigh, he bit my neck again then stilled, after a final thrust.
When I felt my body relax, he excused himself to change and promised to return. He did as he said and held me the rest of the night as we slept.
Strong arms surrounded my waist as I stood against the counter. A kiss caressed my neck, and I tilted my head as I did the night before. I shivered with excitement as small pecks travelled up my neck to my ear.
“Where did you go this morning?”
“Just making coffee. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“You definitely would not have disturbed me if you stayed in bed.”
I had to smile, even though he couldn’t see my face. I could feel his bare chest against my back through my thin tank top. He gently nudged my behind with his morning wood. He moaned against my neck when I gently returned the pressure.
“That’s it. Today, you’re all mine.”
“What do you mean?” I laughed.
“You keep escaping me in the mornings, but I have some place in mind you can’t escape today. And there won’t be any other people to distract you.”
“Distract me?” I laughed and twisted in his arms. “You’re the one with distractions.”
He kissed me hard, letting his hand glide up my body to gently clutch the back of my neck, holding me against him with his other hand on the small of my back.
“I told you yesterday. You’re my favorite flavor.”
Before I could respond, he was kissing me again.
Chapter 18
[Ireland]
Til pleasure washed away the sting
Two cars were in front of the house when Tristan escorted me outside. The driver from the one car entered the other after giving Tristan the keys to a bright blue Mustang convertible. He helped me into the car, after he cursed the steering wheel on the wrong side of the vehicle and driving on the wrong side of the road. We wound out of the heavily populated resort area and into more remote greenery. He was searching something with the GPS on his phone and we continued to swerve into the wrong lane. I offered to help, but he refused. He promised me it was an adventure. Eventually, I relaxed, leaving him in charge.
When we pulled off the road onto a small strip of sand, I worried that we were lost. I didn’t see anything except foliage all around. I’d lost sense of where the ocean was in relation to us as we drove.
“Trust me?” he said to me over the gearshift. I realized I did.
“Definitely,” I said, as I took his hand. He came around to open my door and then led me through the tropical foliage. He warned me to duck and helped me weave my way through the thick green brush. We emerged on the white sands of what appeared to be a secluded beach. A white cabana was open on all four sides, and a cooler stood just inside, next to a low platform that was covered in a flat outdoor cushion, large enough for two. When we approached the cabana, Tristan asked: “Sun? Swim? Snorkel?”
“Yes,” I said and laughed at his enthusiasm.
We spent some time snorkeling first then came to shore to lay in the sun. Too much sun would be frowned upon from Isa, but I didn’t care in the moment. I suggested we swim again to cool off, and then we returned to the cabana, pushing the retractable platform back under the canopy.
Tristan used his phone to order lunch, which was delivered on a silver tray by a waiter who walked through the foliage. I had to laugh. I had no idea where he came from or where he went. Tristan assured me that we had complete privacy. However, the strip of beach was worked and catered by a service for those who wanted private use. We would not be disturbed unless he called the service again. We could even order a massage if I liked. I passed.
We finished our lunch of fish tacos and white wine, before Tristan poured each of us a rum punch from the pre-made pitcher within the cooler. I lay on my back, feeling the ocean breeze caress my sun-kissed skin. Good lunch, soothing alcohol, warm air, and a gorgeous man made for one relaxed female body. Tristan lay next to me on his stomach. He startled me when he popped up to prop himself on his elbows.
“So tell me, my Irish Isle, why don’t you touch yourself?”
His question shocked me, and his crooked smile proved he was being playful, but serious.
“Do we need to resume some lessons in seduction?” he continued.
I laughed, but it wasn’t strong and he looked at me questioningly.
“Tell me. What happened?” he asked, his face showing his concern that he had brought up a sensitive subject. I took a deep breath and let it out.
“That bad?” he said, his eyes filled with alarm.
“Bad…and embarrassing.”
“
Do tell,” he gasped in mock horror like an old lady. He was trying to be flirtatious to break the tension, but his eyes still showed he was very curious.
“I’ve never told this story to anyone. Ever.”
He raised an eyebrow as I began.
“My uncle is a powerful, despicable man. As I told you before, he’s into illegal dealings, and he uses his own products from time to time. One night, my parents were having a party for their friends. My uncle was present and stoned. I was fourteen years old at the time, and I was allowed to stay home for the evening. Being treated like a big girl and all. I eventually went to my room out of boredom, and my uncle followed me. He’s fifteen years older.”
Tristan sucked in a breath as he said, “Shit.”
“I didn’t think too much of it, at first. Thought he was trying to be an ass, like he can be, but I wasn’t afraid of him. He was calling me ‘precious’ and ‘pure gold,’ names that he mocked me with all my life. He started accusing me of being a prude and my mother protecting me against everything.
‘You’ve got solid gold down there,’ he asked me, eyeing me.”
I made an air-circle over my lower section.
“I knew then that I should be frightened. It just wasn’t something an uncle said to a niece. I attempted to get past him by rushing for the door. He caught my arm. I tugged and tugged to get away from him. He finally let me go and I fell back on the floor, hitting my head on the frame of my bed.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you, princess,’ he sneered at me. He said he wouldn’t even touch me. I was going to touch myself, and he was going to watch.”
“Holy fuck,” Tristan breathed.
“I did it,” I cut him off. “I was so scared he would touch me. I told him he had to move to the wall, and I would do it. He almost drooled, I swear. His eyes were so glassy; I figured even if I did it horribly, he wouldn’t know the difference. He couldn’t focus anyway.
I began awkwardly, touching myself. I wasn’t an actress and I didn’t know what to do to fake anything. He started getting excited, and he slipped his hands into his own pants, loosening them to allow himself freedom. I couldn’t look. He began to work himself and he growled orders at me. ‘Touch this, do that.’”
I took another deep breath.
“This is the embarrassing part. I did start to like it. I closed my eyes and began to pretend it was Joey Harris, a…friend.” I hesitated; almost admitting he was a model. “I let my fingers wander, and eventually, I got a little excited. I was breathing harder, and I might have moaned out loud, when he groaned for me to come. I had to drown him out, but the words broke me. I’m not sure I really came, but I did gasp, and I heard him swear. I felt so dirty for possibly enjoying myself in such a creepy situation.”
I was breathing heavier.
“Good God,” Tristan replied, hanging his head and placing his hands in his hair. “That sounds horrible, and I shouldn’t have asked, but thank you for trusting me.”
I shrugged my shoulders as if it was no big deal.
“It was a long time ago. I’m sort of over it.”
“You never told anyone? Not even Isa?”
“She wouldn’t have believed me, and I was afraid Marshall would say I enjoyed it. I left my room afterward, hoping to escape to my parents’ room instead. I almost ran into my mother outside my bedroom door. She looked questioningly, from me to my uncle, as he walked out of my room moments later. He was still adjusting his pants a little, and my mother gasped, grabbing for me. Marshall assured her, my golden virginity was still intact and nothing had happened to the princess. After he passed my mother, she held me tight. I think it might have been the last time she hugged me. She asked me a million times if I was all right and positive nothing happened. When she seemed convinced, she assured me I never had to be alone with him again, and she did closely monitor him, for a while.”
My voice was full of sadness, as I briefly recalled that it was because of this very uncle that I was to marry his friend, so much for complete protection from him.
“As a matter of fact, Isa is almost relieved that I’m to be with one of Marshall’s friends, because she believes Marshall would never cross him. He won’t come after me again.”
We were silent for several moments.
“Ireland, you trust me, right?”
“Yes,” I smiled slowly.
“Let me wash away that memory for you.”
“What?” I swallowed. He picked up my hand and began to kiss each fingertip. He sucked each finger individually into his mouth then moved onto my palm, to run his tongue over the lines. He worked his way to my wrist, nibbling, licking, and sucking his way up my arm before he crossed to the other arm and began the process in reverse. He moved his body in a way that he straddled me. I rolled my head from side to side, self-conscious of being watched, until he spoke.
“No one is going to see us. Close your eyes. Relax,” he said in a sultry voice. His own eyes closed as he moved to my neck with his mouth and made a necklace of kisses over my collarbone. Making his way down my bony chest, he slipped a breast out of my bikini. Kisses circled around my tight skin, then his tongue traced an additional circle before licking up to my nipple. His tongue teased the pink tip to hardness then he latched onto me and sucked. He lavished attention on one and kissed a trail to the other to pay equal the homage.
A path was licked down my flat stomach to my waist, and he nibbled the skin above my waistline. I panted with anticipation. My center pulsed with a rhythm faster than my heartbeat. His legs still spread over me. I couldn’t move to let him know I wanted him to go between my legs next, but I didn’t think he needed directions. I’d never had someone go below before, with his mouth. Nerves and excitement mixed together.
He stopped short of the waist of my bikini and moved to my toes. When he kissed my big toe, I flinched as it tickled.
“You don’t have to do this,” I grunted softly.
“Shhh,” he said, as he repeated with my toes what he had done with my fingers. He was, quite literally, washing me clean of my filthy emotions by licking and sucking each part of me. He worked his way up each leg, torturing me as he drew near my apex. Bites grew more deliberate on my inner thighs. My legs spread involuntarily. I shuttered when Tristan’s warm breath graced against my moist bikini bottoms. He used his teeth to untie each string holding the bikini in place at my hips. His teeth dragged down the front of my suit to leave me exposed to him in broad daylight.
My eyes almost rolled back with excitement. The pulse between my thighs spread down my legs and across my lower belly. It was a full feeling. I needed the release. When his tongue hit the nub of pleasure outside me, I gasped and jolted with the sensation. When his lips opened and he took me in, sliding his tongue around and around, I broke almost instantly. I gripped his hair; gently holding his head between my legs as I rocked forward then fell back, calling out his name.
He kissed me down there a final time, before he pulled my suit back into place, tying it lazily at the sides and righting my top. He crawled over me and worked my mouth next, with another toe curling kiss. When he released me, I was so breathless and exhausted by being satiated to the hilt.
He stared at me for a few minutes. The intensity of it made me tremble. I swallowed hard.
“Tell me how to do that for you,” I asked shyly.
“I’m good,” he smiled and kissed my nose.
“Please. Teach me.”
“Another lesson?” he said with a raised eyebrow.
I couldn’t admit I didn’t want a lesson. I wanted to taste him, only him.
I shook my head and gently pushed him off me, using my body to roll him on his back.
I began by kissing him in a manner similar to what he had done to me. I concentrated on his neck at first, using small pecks and licks over his growing stubble. I sucked on his chiseled jawbone and licked his lips quickly, before pulling back to work his chest. My hands led the way as I traced his firm chest with open palms t
hen retraced the path with my mouth. I sucked each of his nipples in turn, biting them gently by scraping my teeth over them.
He hissed his approval. Moving to the dragon tattoo, my mouth kissed and my tongue licked the outline of the beast across his chest and side. I didn’t continue to his back, like I initially intended, but carried on over the landscape of his abdomen. His muscles rose and dipped like the waves behind me in the ocean as my tongue explored the ridges of his skin. The trail of soft brown hair that disappeared into his swimming shorts, I nuzzled with my nose. He squirmed.
“Ticklish,” I giggled.
“Torturous,” he coughed.
I smiled against the hair as my hand shook to cover him. Squeezing the length of him, I worked my palm over his hardness before he finally spoke in a raspy, breathless voice.
“Let me out, Irish.”
I released the Velcro and string at the top of his shorts, pulling them down to expose his hips and his fullness. For a moment, I took him in, observing the length and tightness of his skin before wrapping my hand fully around him. He groaned and his head fell to the side, for a moment, before he returned his eyes to look at me. I had the feeling he had been watching me, but I hadn’t looked at him. I was afraid I might disappoint him. His usually moss green eyes were a forest green, gleaming with those flecks of gold, assuring me of his excitement.
A spurt of liquid seeped from him. I used my tongue to lap it up before taking him into my mouth.
“Irish Isle,” he groaned, his hand coming lightly to my head. My mouth latched around him, and I sucked, using muscles in my mouth I didn’t know I had. He groaned again, holding me down on him. I didn’t plan to give up, until he was satisfied, although I wasn’t sure I was doing it correctly. It didn’t take long before his hips moved slightly in a rhythm with my mouth.
“Ireland, you might want to pull back. You might not like what happens next.”
My lips clamped tighter and a shock of salty liquid released to the back of my throat. I swallowed hard, as he pulsed his excitement into me a final time, then gently I pulled back to release him.
