by Juniper Bell
"Like you wouldn't believe."
"How do you want me? You want my mouth? My pussy? You want me on my back? Face down?"
God, she was fucking killing me.
"Are you serious?" I could think of a thousand ways. But only one way mattered right now. When she nodded, I said, "I want whatever you choose."
"Hmm." She narrowed her eyes as if sifting through all the tempting options. "I want to feel how hard you are in my mouth. But I don't want you to come yet."
"That might be a challenge."
"Just try. I also want you exploding deep inside me. It makes me come, did you know that? I feel you getting even harder right before you come, then the spasms when you get off. It really does something to me."
Was this my quiet, reserved Lauren? I'd never heard her talk like this before. "You've really come out of your shell here in Thailand."
"Yes. I'm trying." She gripped her fist around my shaft and flicked her tongue across the tip. "This is literally the first time in my life that I've felt like I'm in charge of what happens to me. I've never felt free before, not once. But here—no one's telling me what to do. No one cares what I do. I've never ever felt like this before. It's … intoxicating. Better than any drug."
She drew me deep into her mouth, surrounding me with infinite wet warmth.
I couldn't help it anymore. I brought my hands down to grip the back of her head. Not to put myself deeper inside, but to keep her from making me come too fast. I had to control the pace of her deep suckles. I didn't want this experience to be over too soon.
I sifted my fingers through her hair, which felt just as fine and silky as ever, even bleached blond. The delicate structure of her skull struck me as both vulnerable yet strong. She could have been crushed—some people would have been crushed by what she'd gone through—and yet she hadn't been. Not only had she survived, but she'd found something amazing. Her own spontaneous, sensational, free self.
She touched something so deep inside me, I hadn't known it was there. Some primal protective instinct. I'd never felt anything remotely like this for a woman. This wasn't sex. It wasn't even infatuation. It was … fusion.
I closed my eyes against the unbearably hot image of her naked body kneeling before me. It was too much. Her full lips wrapped around me, the slight hollowing of her cheeks as she sucked me in. The sultry enjoyment radiating from her half-closed eyes.
And then her deliciously warm mouth slid all the way down to my tip. There was a slight wet pop as my member slipped from her lips.
"Keep your eyes open, Rye," she scolded. "You won't want to miss this."
My eyes flew open. She went onto her elbows and knees, her spine arching in a perfect, graceful curve. The furrow of her beautiful sex glistened with arousal.
"Touch me," she ordered. "I might die if you don't."
Hands shaking, I yanked her right up close to me. My shaft rested along her lower back. I wanted inside her, of course, but first I had to give her what she requested. Or demanded, really.
I crouched over her and reached around for her clit. She was so drenched and swollen that I couldn't find it at first. I fought to keep the slick sensation of her flesh from tipping me over the edge. I delved through the slippery secret heat until I found the hard kernel that pulsed against my finger. I rubbed, giving her friction, throwing in some pressure, letting her feel the hardness of my erection at her back.
She began flexing her hips in a rhythmic movement that had me grinding my teeth from strain. She ground against my hand with everything in her, emitting a stream of carnal whimpers and groans. I pushed a finger inside, using my wrist to maintain contact with her clit. Like some kind of sexual Jedi master, I used the force of her movements to increase the pressure on her hot little clit.
When I knew she was close, I tightened my grip—this pussy is mine—and rubbed until she bucked into a crazy convulsion of an orgasm. It felt like an earthquake, as if the planet's core had just melted down and all the tectonic plates were colliding. It went on and on, spasm after spasm. Whenever I thought she was done, another shudder would pass through her.
Finally she collapsed beneath me, flat on her stomach, limbs splayed apart.
Oh my God.
I'd reached a plateau of arousal by then that felt surreal. As if I was high on something. My knees were shaking, so I knelt on the bed and sat on my heels. My cock jutted nearly straight up toward the ceiling. In a hazy sort of way, I wondered what I should do about it. Jerk myself off while soaking in the sight of her nudity? Hope it went down in a day or so? Use it to fly a kite with?
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine it deflating like one of those long balloons that zoom around the room, squealing as the air leaks out. That didn't work, so I pictured pouring a bag of ice cubes over it. That led to an image of Lauren circling her nipples with an ice cube. So that was totally useless.
Yeah. I was screwed. I was going to be hard for Lauren for the rest of my life.
Then … relief. Wet warmth closed around me. I opened my eyes to see Lauren bent over my shaft, moving her head up and down.
"Is it my turn to call the shots yet?" I asked through gritted teeth.
"Absolutely." She had to mumble the word because my cock was overflowing her mouth. "Whatever you want."
With that permission, I pulled her head away from my erection. As not-roughly as I could manage, I pushed her onto her back. I spread her thighs apart and bent her legs at the knees. "Put your hands on the backs of your thighs," I told her in a passion-thickened voice. "Pull back as far as you can."
With her splayed before me, every bit of her sumptuous pussy exposed, I finally let my fierce need for her take hold. First I bent down and drew the flat of my tongue along the crease of her soaking-wet sex. Her hips jumped in response, and a new flood of arousal seeped onto my tongue.
I met her eyes, wide and deepest golden-green. A dark flush burned in her cheeks. Her lips were swollen from being wrapped around my cock. "You okay?" I had to ask.
"Yes." Her voice was strained. "I'm a little nervous about how that telephone pole between your legs is going to fit inside me."
"If you're that worried, maybe you shouldn't get me so damn hard. Not that you can help it. It only takes one look at you and I'm hard." As I spoke, I fingered her, testing her readiness. The juices from her earlier monster orgasm were still lubricating her inner channel. Every time I touched her, more liquid appeared. She moaned as her head fall back against the blue sheet.
"Ready?"
I took her pleading whimper as a yes.
I eased my swollen member through her lips. Her channel grasped me, little twitches greeting my cock as I pushed farther inside. The sensation of being eagerly clasped by her body lit me up like a rocket. I was at the limits of my control, but I held on to it with everything I had until I was fully seated inside her.
My cock throbbed hard. We were joined together in one trembling entity. Balanced on the edge of something tremendous. I drew out, her slippery tissues easily allowing my passage. I mentally congratulated myself on my incredible self-control.
Until Lauren sighed, and said the three words I couldn't resist. "Fuck me, Rye."
Done. I drove into her, all the way in then out, flexing my hips with the speed and rhythm of a jackhammer. Or at least that's how it felt.
She arched her hips, giving as good as she got, urging me on with words like "more, harder, do it."
Whatever she wanted, I'd give her. I fucked her with everything I had. In the sultry tropical heat, sweat poured off me. I kept going, holding back until I felt the first tremors breaking inside her. And then it rushed over me, blinding me. The mind-blowing intensity of my climax obliterated every thought in my brain.
It poured out of me. All the longing for Lauren, the stress of trying to find her, every ache, every moment of fear that I'd experienced over the past six months. It all went in one sustained eruption of orgasmic pleasure.
That's when I knew the real reason I
was searching for Lauren. I wanted to win her back. I wanted to win her … forever.
5
Lauren
I stroked Rye's back, my fingers traveling the ridges alongside his spine. His body was so powerfully made. Power contained, power released. The power to bring me unimaginable pleasure. He lay splayed on top of me, and as good as it felt, I knew I might black out if we kept that position for too long.
"Rye," I whispered. "Wake up."
He grunted and raised his head. He must have fallen asleep, because a look of horror crossed his face when he realized where he was. He rolled off me with a suction-pop of slick skin.
"I'm sorry," he said hoarsely. "I didn't crush you, did I?"
"No, I'm fine. I might not notice even if you did. I think I'm in another world right now."
"I know what you mean." He moved onto his back and let his arms fall open to the side. "What the fuck was that?" Lifting a hand, he gave me a stop gesture. "No, don't answer that. I know what it was. It was the best experience of my life."
A smile tugged at my lips. There's nothing like a little flattery after you climax. It's like the cherry on top of a delicious ice cream sundae. "I guess we missed each other."
"Did you miss me, Lauren?"
Was that a harmless question? I didn't think so, but I answered anyway. "Of course I did. But I tried not to dwell on it too much. I've learned that lesson the hard way."
He rolled over onto one elbow. The movement made his muscles flex under his tanned skin. "See, that's the kind of thing I want to know about you." The intensity in his silver eyes made me light-headed. "What taught you a lesson like that? What is Lauren Blakewell really all about? I only know bits and pieces. The twelve-year-old with braces. The fiancée in the headlines. I want to know it all."
I swallowed past the lump gathering in my throat. No one had ever wanted to know me. I'd spent my entire life making sure people saw only what I wanted them to see. After all, it was my job. "Why?"
He stared at me for a moment. "Look, Lauren. I know your life has been … unusual. I know Bliss is a con woman and that you were paid to pose as Clayton's fiancée."
My face flamed with heat. I'd never told him that. Bliss must have told him. What other secrets had she spilled?
"I couldn't tell you the truth about that. I'd signed a confidentiality agreement, and besides, I cared about Brian. I didn't want to risk anyone finding out."
"Doesn't matter. That's all behind us. But what's between us … you never answered my question before. I need to know how much of that TV interview was true …"
"We agreed not to talk about any of that."
"Give me something, Lauren. I've been searching for you for six months. I haven't stopped thinking about you once. Please."
I held his gaze as tension vibrated between us. Outside the little bungalow, the constant murmur of tree frogs rose and fell. Inside, the filmy gauze of the mosquito netting separated the two of us from the rest of the entire world. But were we truly together? Or would secrets press us apart forever?
"How did you find me?" I finally asked him. "You tell me that, and I'll tell you about the interview."
"Bliss," he said, without even a pause. "She came to me in Morocco."
The speed with which he answered threw me off course. "Why did she do that?"
"I can't read Bliss's mind and I don't believe what she says. But she gave me some information to deliver to you."
Panic raced through me like a rabid dog at my heels. I dragged a pillow over my head. "No." I didn't want any messages from my manipulative, lying not-mother. How dare she sneak into my tropical paradise like this, like a snake hiding behind Rye? "No no no. You should leave. You should get out. I don't want her here."
"Hey, hey. Sweetie. It's okay." I felt strong arms around me, his heart beating next to mine. His whispers soothed me, drained the crazy fear that had taken over. When I was calm, he lifted the corner of the pillow until we made eye contact. "I told you that you're calling the shots. I mean it. You come first. If you want the information, I'll give it to you. If not, I'll die before I deliver it. And I gave her my word as a McAllister, so you know what that means."
I shifted the pillow so I could breathe, and so I could look my fill at his stern, beautiful face. My forehead was damp with sweat, my pulse still jumping. "McAllisters always keep their word."
"Yes. But you're more important to me than that. You come first. I promise you."
I let his words settle in. I believed him. Rye was a truthful man—impetuous, fierce, loyal—but truthful. And damn it, I wanted to be the same way—if possible.
I could start right now. I met his eyes and took a long breath.
"I told the truth in that interview," I said softly. "I had—have—real feelings for you. I loved you when I was thirteen. You're the only man I've ever loved." His eyes flared, but I kept going. "But, Rye, things are different now. For the first time in my life, I have an opportunity to live the way I want to."
One corner of his mouth quirked up. "In a tiny concrete bungalow on a beach in Thailand?"
"It could be anywhere. The location doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm free. No one is telling me what to wear or what to pretend. No one is scheduling my day or lecturing me about mascara. I don't have to look in a mirror unless I want to. And I hardly ever do. You know what I feel like?"
"What, my sweet girl?" He cupped his hand around my cheek, and I leaned into its rough warmth.
"Like a tiny sprout of a flower that's been trampled under a boot. A nice boot, kind of an expensive stiletto type, but a boot is a boot. Now it's been lifted off me and I can finally breathe."
"Okay, but what's this have to do with me? I want you to breathe. You breathing is very important to me." He flashed me that devastating stubble-jawed grin.
"It's not that. I don't know yet how things will be with us. You don't either. Think about it, Rye. When you first found me, you hated me. You were so angry. Then we got involved in … something. It was intense and intimate, but it was built on anger. After all that time doing whatever Bliss needed, I can actually allow myself to have my own opinions and feelings. I can take the time to make sure they're real."
He stilled. "You think they might not be real?"
Could someone like him, so forceful and confident, ever understand what my life had been like? I'd lived in a world of shadows and games and deception. I barely understood how deep it went, because it had been my reality for so long. "Think of it this way. If you rescued someone from a cult, you wouldn't expect them to be normal right away, would you? They might need some time to adjust to the real world."
"You're saying life with Bliss was like being in a cult."
"Yes, exactly. A cult of two, with one leader and one follower."
"Ah." He lay back in the tangled sheets. In the quiet that followed, the humid air pressed against my skin. I felt hot and sad and anxious. I didn't want Rye to leave. But I had to be honest with him.
Then I felt a touch on my hair. Those gloriously big fingers massaged my scalp, releasing all my tension. Instant rag doll. The bliss spread from his fingertips all the way to my toes. I curled against him, feeling all worry melt from my body.
"You need time," he murmured. "Take it. Take your time. I'll be here."
"How … long?" I managed before sleep tugged at my eyelids.
"As long as you want me, I'm here. If you kick me out, there's this awesome resort down the beach. Maybe I'll do a juice cleanse."
I giggled. Rye made me laugh, he made me come, he made me happy. And now I was going to get time with him. Unlimited, open-ended, private and public time. Time in which I called the shots. Sounded like heaven.
"Don't you have to work?" I realized I knew next to nothing about the details of Rye's existence. "Do you have a job back in Texas?"
"I'm taking some time off."
I wondered what sort of work he did that allowed so much freedom. And that was the last thought I had before I drifted
off into the most delicious sleep I'd had since Washington, DC.
6
Lauren
The next morning I woke to the scrape of masculine legs against mine and the weight of a heavy arm across my middle. When I tried to slide from under it, Rye tightened his grip. The next thing I knew, my rear was snug against his front and his penis was making its presence known. I melted like butter over hot pancakes. He could do anything to me, this man, and I'd love every second.
He slid into me, lush and lazy, and we made love at a slow-building, steamy pace, as if we had infinite time to wring every second of enjoyment from each other. Not that it took long. It didn't. I was already at a slow simmer. It took only a few swirls of his thumb on my clit and the feel of his thickness inside me for the simmer to become a rolling boil of an orgasm.
He came too, after first sliding on a condom. Had he used one last night? I didn't remember. It was such an amazing night that I didn't want to worry about details like that.
I lay back, letting the happiness wash through me. The sunshine pouring in the casement window seemed to get caught in the mosquito net, draping us in a filmy, ethereal ambiance. If you looked up the word "happiness" in the dictionary, you might see this. A bed fit for a princess, shared with a lover a goddess would envy.
After I'd recovered my breath, I felt strangely energized. Apparently orgasms were a great way to start the day. I sat bolt upright and started chattering away—completely unlike me.
"I can't wait to show you everything. We can start with breakfast, even though it's nothing like what you'd find in Texas or anywhere in the States. They seem to really like eating rice for breakfast, but we can probably get muesli or yogurt or something. Come on!" I tugged his protesting body out of bed. "This is Thailand! Show some excitement!"
"Coffee?" He rubbed his eyes as he stood swaying next to the bed.
"Of course they have coffee. Or we can always get you a Sunshine Smoothie at the Oasis. Carrot juice and kale with a splash of orange."
