Pleasure Island

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Pleasure Island Page 6

by Michelle M. Pillow


  His laugh resonated through her. “Exactly what a man wants to hear.” His hand found its way to the folds of her pussy. “You know what else a man wants to hear?”

  She wiggled as his fingers speared her wet core. “N-no.”

  Working his finger in more, he began to use his thumb to rub her clit, making her moan.

  “That.” He finger-fucked her more. “A happy woman.”

  She arched into him, riding his hand slowly. She bit lightly at his skin. The action seemed to spur him onward. He increased his pace, setting a rhythm that had her hitting her crescendo in seconds. She cried out, biting down harder on his skin, accidentally breaking it. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth and she drew back from him, horrified at her behavior. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

  He looked out from wild eyes. His canines had lengthened.

  A scream lodged in her throat, caught by both fear and excitement.

  Jurgen had her flipped onto her back before she could blink. He plowed into her, his cock filling her completely. His actions were untamed. Powerful.

  Annette wrapped her legs around his waist as he drilled into her. Animalistic sounds came from the back of his throat, making her nipples harden and her stomach flutter. She’d never been more aroused in her life.

  Jurgen forced his hands into the sand and she could see him straining. The cords of his neck popped and his jaw was tight.

  Glancing to the side, she saw why. His hands were partially shifted. Her mind thought she should at least consider panicking. Her body had other plans. It countered his thrusts as she begged him to fuck her harder.

  His head moved down fast and a pinching in her shoulder alerted her to the fact he’d bitten her. There was no pain. Only pleasure as he lifted her legs higher, thrusting into her. Her legs began to quiver and a tingling sensation shot upward from her toes. Annette cried out, lacing her hands at the back of his neck as her orgasm crashed over her.

  Jurgen knew breaking her skin with his teeth while in the throes of passion meant he was in the process of claiming her. He also knew if he dared to ejaculate during it all, she’d officially be his mate—his wife according to the supernatural community. Completely. Forever. He knew it yet he made no attempt to stop himself when he felt his balls tightening. He thrust into her, releasing fully into her. Her cunt milked his cock. He opened his mouth and licked the bite wound on her shoulder. The healing agents in his saliva left no traces of the wound being there.

  Annette stared up at him with an odd expression on her face. “Are you going to go all kitty on me now?”

  All kitty?

  Jurgen glanced at his hands and instantly shifted them back to normal. He bent his head, capturing her lips with his. The kiss was passionate and his cock stirred to life once more, still buried in Annette.

  He smiled against her lips. “I promise not to go all kitty on you now, gorgeous.”

  The reality of what he’d just done came over him. He stiffened before pulling out of her and sitting back on his haunches.

  Annette pushed onto her elbows. “Jurgen?”

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Anne, we have to talk.”

  “About?”

  Annette stared past Jurgen’s shoulder, at a tree not far from their location. “J-Jurgen?”

  “I couldn’t help myself, Anne. I know we started to talk about the mate thing earlier, but we never really finished the discussion. I don’t think I explained what happens. Then you bit me.” He ran his hand over his head. “The beast had a moment of complete and total agreement with the man and the next thing I know, I’m claiming you.”

  She barely registered what he was saying as she watched the tree that had been partially dipping into the ocean, leap upward and spin. Her eyes widened. “Jurgen! That tree, it’s spinning!”

  “Sweetheart?” Jurgen asked, rubbing her shoulders. “I know you’re upset with me. I understand you wouldn’t want to be tied for eternity to me but I can’t take it back. I wouldn’t even if I could.”

  She pressed on his chest. “The tree is friggin’ spinning! Look!”

  He sighed. “You’re not thinking clearly. You’re in shock over being my wife. You don’t—”

  Cupping his face, she held tight and then twisted, forcing him to look at the tree.

  “The tree is spinning,” he exclaimed.

  “Yeah, I know!” She was about to get hysterical but stopped, his words running over her. “Claimed me? Your wife?” She stilled. “Jurgen, what are you talking about?”

  “How the hell does a tree spin?”

  She snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Focus here, big boy. Explain this whole claiming thing.”

  His gaze remained on the tree which had finally stopped spinning and was now completely erect, no longer sinking into the sand.

  “How?” Annette watched him, trying to see the humor in his gaze when his eyes finally met hers. He had to be teasing her, yet the idea seemed very real. She felt him, like she’d never felt another.

  “I knew for sure the second you stormed away from me to bathe in the ocean that we’d been sent here to mate. My whole body ached at the thought of you walking out of my life.” Jurgen caressed her cheek. “I bit you in the height of passion as I expelled my seed in you. You’d already bitten me. Add it all together and you get a binding, unbreakable marriage according to my kind and the supernatural community.”

  She blinked and shook her head. “I’m stranded and married?”

  Jurgen looked at her. “Yes,” he said, sounding nervous.

  Her hand went to his bare thigh. “You could have asked me first.”

  “You’d have said no and it’s not like I can really control it. You’re my mate, Anne. It wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t. I can’t claim just anybody. Only the one. The person whose fate is entangled with mine.” He brushed the hair back from her face. “The one woman who, from the moment I lay eyes on her, steals my breath and makes me want to protect her at all costs. Who makes me think about all the ways I can make love to her. All the things I want to give her. All the ways I want to take care of her. Always.”

  Any thoughts she had of protesting the claiming vanished. She kissed him and didn’t stop.

  Jurgen stood, lifting her with him, continuing their kiss. His long fingers found her cunt wet and ready. She rocked on his hand and rubbed her body to his a second before he lifted her high. She wrapped her legs around his waist, impaling herself sweetly on his cock.

  * * * * *

  “Keoni Finau,” Christy said, watching the firelight dance along his chest and arms. She found herself staring at his tattoo, tracing the design with her eyes. “Keoni is a beautiful name. Is it a family one?”

  Night had fallen, bringing with it a pretty array of stars. For most of the day, they’d laid in each other’s arms, whispering and talking like old friends. In the late afternoon, Keoni scouted the surrounding area while she stayed by the boat in case a rescue team came. He’d found no signs of civilization beyond the littered beaches. It was possible someone docked for a party and then left. For that reason, he’d built a large fire in case any passing ships happened by. Over the flames, he’d constructed a spit and the smell of cooking fish drifted over them.

  “Some great-uncle I never met had it. My father was Samoan and my mother a blonde-haired, blue-eyed American. She ran a hotel on Maui and he was a local surfer. They met when she found him trespassing on hotel beach property. To hear my father tell it, they fell in love the moment she yelled at him. He says he knew that very second that she was passionate enough to be his wife. They married two days later.”

  “Two days?” Christy asked, stunned. She wore his t-shirt and nothing else. It smelled of him and she had to resist the urge to lift it to her nose and breathe in his masculine scent. “Did it last?”

  “Going on thirty-six years now,” Keoni said. “There is a legend on my father’s side. They say that the men in my family know the second they have me
t their match.”

  “And have you?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. There was something very poetic about the way he spoke of his family. “I mean, have you ever known?”

  He just grinned. “Want to hand me your plate? I think this is done.”

  Christy reached to her side, picking up one of the plates from the boat. A cool breeze drifted in from the ocean. Handing him the dish, she moaned lightly. “I love the sound of the ocean at night.”

  “Yes, it is quite beautiful.” He wasn’t looking at the ocean, but at her.

  Hiding a blush, she nodded at his tattooed arm. “That must have taken quite a bit of time to do. Did you do that for your heritage?”

  “Yes. I traveled to Samoa to have it done in the traditional way. It took several trips, as the older methods take much longer. Instead of a machine, they used bone and wood, which is tapped repeatedly. Samoan culture is the only one whose government has never banned tattooing in its long history.” Keoni glanced at his arm. “To my people, the tattoo is a sign of respect—of our past, the ancient culture.”

  “And your parents?”

  “My father has a full body suit,” he laughed, “and all my mother managed to sit through was a tiny butterfly the size of a dime done with a professional tattoo machine in the States.”

  “I think I’m with your mother,” Christy said. “I think I’d pass out. I’ve watched them done before and have been told it’s not that bad, but…” She shivered. “Now, my cousin Anne, who really is like a sister to me, she’s tough. If anyone in my family could take it, she could—after she hovered over the poor artist for an hour making sure his station was sanitized.”

  “There is something I should tell you.” Keoni sounded serious and she wondered at his quick change of subject.

  “What?” Her heartbeat quickened.

  “I’m a sea person.”

  “Is that like a sailor? Some kind of Samoan pirate gang?” Her brow furrowed in confusion.

  “An ocean walker. I should have told you earlier when we were talking about it, but I’m not used to sharing that part of myself with someone. Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen to you and we don’t grow tails and fins or carry tridents. I can breathe underwater like it was air and…” He looked away briefly, before meeting her eyes. She saw insecurity in him and it made her heart ache. “I’m drawn to the ocean. It calls to me and if I stay away too long I get depressed.”

  “Well, that’s not so bad,” she said, using a fork to take a small bite of her meal. The fresh flavor was delicious and she moaned. So what if he was some ocean walker tribe who liked the water. It wasn’t so primitive of a concept. “So you like to live by the water. I can think of worse fates.”

  “It’s more than that. I need to live by the water. I’m moody. Ocean water touches my skin and I get temperamental, yet I need it to survive.” He didn’t move, except for the rise and fall of his chest. “My kind didn’t maroon us. We don’t have the power.”

  “You’re a supernatural,” she said in understanding. The truth was in the brilliant blue of his eyes. “I should have seen it earlier.”

  Keoni nodded.

  “Are you one of the immortals?” she asked. With his tall height and firm body, he looked like he could be some sort of walking god.

  “No, but my years stretch much longer than most humans, about twice as long. And when I take a mate, a true mate, the gods will bless her with long life as well.”

  Christy’s heart nearly thumped out of control. Why was he telling her all this? Better yet, why was she listening with such hopeful intensity? “Your mother is…?”

  “Human. My father is the ocean walker.” He studied her. “Humans, if the situation is right, can bear the children of my kind, but the children are never human. They’re ocean walkers. In the past, that instance was rare and so our numbers have dwindled. I’ve only met about twenty like me and a lot of them were family members, elders who have no children. They still pray to the gods for help. I am one of the last generations, along with a handful of cousins.”

  “So why not sleep around and see who you get pregnant?” Even as she said it a peculiar curling started in her stomach. “Is that what we’re doing?”

  “No,” he shook his head. “I did lie when I said I had my shots. The truth is, I don’t need them. I have to be mated to get someone pregnant. So, you see the dilemma. After I marry, then I will know whether or not we’ll have sons. There is no way of knowing before then.” He lifted his hand toward the sky. “It truly is up to the gods.”

  “So when you say moody, you mean passionate?” If it got her a repeat performance of earlier, she’d gladly grab him by his dreads and drag him into the water.

  “Normally I’ll want sex or I’ll want to fight. My kind is quick to temper, but mostly we yell and cuss, storm off and drink kava until the temper cools.”

  At that, she dropped her fork. Tears moistened her eyes. “So what you are trying to tell me is that today, that earlier, when we had sex and then lay around talking all afternoon, that was just some reaction to having jumped into the water to save me?”

  “Oh, hey, no.” He came to her side. “I was with you because I wanted to be. And I can attest, ocean water or not, I want you.”

  She wasn’t completely convinced and he must have read it in her expression. Taking her hand, he drew it between his thighs to where his arousal pressed against his shorts. “See.”

  Christy laughed, blinking back the tears. “Good, because I was going to have to beat you up if you said otherwise. I think today was…” She stopped short of saying “preordained”. But that’s what she felt. She felt as if she’d waited her whole life to meet him, to be with him. Maybe that’s why she’d resisted him so hard at the resort—and why she couldn’t stay away. One day in his arms and it was as if she’d found the missing half of her soul. Never, with other men, had she been so whole.

  “Special,” he supplied.

  Christy nodded. She found no reason to lie to herself about what she was feeling. Maybe it was the surreal, dreamlike situation. Perhaps it was the romantic setting, his handsome face, his piercing eyes. As she thought about it, she knew it was something more.

  It just felt right.

  Preordained.

  “Maybe we’re dead,” he suggested. Keoni still held her hand to his cock. “Maybe this is the afterlife. It would explain a lot.”

  She laughed, rubbing her fingers. “I doubt it. My shoulders feel a little sunburned. I don’t think spirits can tan.”

  “Hmm, perhaps you’re right. I don’t think spirits can do this either.” He leaned in and kissed her. Without thought, she set her plate aside and ran her hands along his jaw, returning the embrace.

  When their lips parted, she said, “What’s happening? I feel like I’ve known you years, not days. And I’m not a person to fall easily, or even at all.”

  His answer was another kiss, slow and passionate as his tongue explored her mouth. Christy moaned at the taste of him, pushing forward until Keoni fell onto his back in the sand. Firelight caressed them, forcing his muscles to stand out in a play of shadow and wavering orange light. She straddled him with her thighs, shivering with pleasure at the way his tight stomach stroked her already damp pussy. Sand dug into her knees, the grainy texture at odds with his taut flesh. His eyes took on a glimmering sheen, sparkling like stars.

  Christy broke the kiss and pulled off the shirt, tossing it aside. Keoni grinned, his eyes on her chest. Warm palms cupped her breasts. They’d always been one of her most sensitive areas and his obsession with touching them suited her desires just fine.

  He growled low in the back of his throat and she angled her hips so they pushed down over his shorts. Already, his cock was full. The stiff erection fit tightly against her as he thrust up, rubbing the material between them against her clit. She wiggled on top of him, her blood coursing and her pussy aching as if she’d been without sex for a century.

  Christy joined her hands
with his on her breasts, following his movements as she held his palms against her. Then, running her fingers down the length of his arms, she rocked with wild abandon. His gorgeous body worked beneath hers, the muscles rippling like the ocean’s surface.

  “Keoni,” she panted, feeling the little tremble of an impending climax. The friction of the material stimulated her clit until she couldn’t wait any longer. “I want you inside me.”

  Keoni couldn’t believe how fortunate he was. Like the other ocean walkers, he’d prayed to the gods for a woman, to know her when he saw her like his father had. This woman was the one he’d been waiting for. He hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, but in truth he’d suspected from the first moment he touched her, pulling her from the water. The memory of her straddling his waist, one perfect breast freed from her bra as she looked at him in confusion, light haloing her wet locks, would be forever imprinted on his mind.

  Now, as the firelight caressed her and she smiled, he knew this was another memory he’d always carry. He grabbed her hips, lifting her so he could reach his waistband of his shorts. Squirming, he managed to push them down his hips, freeing his cock. Urgently, she drew him to her, taking his cock into the soft folds of her cunt. She sank onto him, taking him deep. Keoni cried out in pleasure. She rode him hard, as desperate as he to find release. Her muscles clamped him.

  “Ride me harder,” he urged.

  A wave of possessiveness washed over him, fueled by the crashing waves. He dug his heels into the sand, letting the grainy texture caress his backside as he pushed up to meet her wild thrusts. He liked the way she fucked him, hard and eager, as if she needed him like she needed air. Perhaps someday they’d make love, slow and tender, but now the need was too urgent, too demanding. He looked at her and he had to have her. She cried out in release, her body gripping in her climax. Keoni couldn’t hold back, he released himself into her, letting her have every last ounce he had to give.

  And as she fell next to him on the sand, lying with him beneath the star-studded sky, he knew that he’d found his perfection.

 

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