I snort at the mention of wild sex. “Well, the wild sex in the sea was a bit of a letdown,” I grumble, still feeling a bit disgruntled about the lack of sea sex.
She sexily smiles as she sidles closer to me, a flirtatious glint in her eyes. Her lips graze my ear as she suggestively whispers in a seductive voice, “We can always come back later tonight after the concert for a bit of skinny-dipping. You know, when no one else is around.”
With that, she stands to her feet and makes her way back over to the sun loungers, and I sink further into the cool temperature of the sea when my cock decides he likes the idea of skinny-dipping. I spend another five minutes cooling him down.
God, it’s like he has a mind of his own.
Sex on the beach?
Hell fucking yes.
I don’t like concerts.
It’s not the crowds or even the screaming that bothers me; it’s just that I’m more of a sports person, and I prefer to attend a football game. However, seeing how happy Mia is, dancing and singing along with Maroon 5 right here, on the beach, as the sun sets all around us—and, yes, the occasional scream in shirtless Adam Levine’s direction—I know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep that smile on her face even if it meant choosing a Maroon 5 concert over watching the Cowboys win the Super Bowl.
Let’s face it; Mia trumps everything one hundred percent. It’s not even a contest. If it came down to it, I’d willingly watch all foreseeable games on a flat screen for the rest of my life. That’s how much I love my wife, and that’s really saying something because I love sports, too.
It just isn’t Mia though. And, yes, I’m pretty fucking intoxicated—hence why I’m talking like a pussy-whipped idiot. I’ve spent pretty much all day with a hurricane in my hand, and honestly, I’ve lost count of how many I’ve had. I blame it on this being an all-inclusive hotel and the fact that the hurricanes are delicious as hell. I haven’t had a beer since we landed in the Dominican Republic.
We’re halfway through the concert, and I couldn’t give a shit what’s happening on the stage. I’m too busy watching Mia to even register the band. Hell, they could be singing in Spanish for all I knew.
She’s so fucking beautiful.
After spending all day on the beach, she’s glowing from the sunrays, her cheeks rosy with a new scattering of freckles on her nose.
It took her all of ten minutes to get ready earlier, and I swear, she’s prettier now than she was on our wedding day. The only inch of makeup that covers her face is a coat of mascara and a pretty-shimmering orange-red color on her lips. She let her long hair dry naturally into loose beach waves, and she’s rocking a long skirt that slits up along each thigh and a black tank crop top with a pair of red flip-flops on her feet.
So incredibly sexy.
The music rocks through us, each song melting into the next, and I marvel at the way she seems to know the words to every single song. Seeing her so carefree is so sexy that it’s taking everything in me not to fuck her from behind literally ten feet from where Adam Levine is singing. I mean, if I were to fuck her now, a rock concert would definitely be an awesome place to do it, but since I’m not a sex-crazed lunatic, I refrain. However, the second we get back to the hotel room tonight, I’m going to take her on every single surface I can find. Or stay on the beach and have the dirty skinny-dipping sex she promised earlier.
The concert quickly comes to a close, but then they return for an encore, and the band begins the intro to a rockier version of “She Will Be Loved.” For the first time since the concert began, Mia’s eyes lock on mine, and immediately, I see emotional tears glistening in her eyes. I’m concerned for a split second, but the smile that quickly accompanies her tears eases my worry, and I realize these are the tears I love seeing on her face. The happy kind. She keeps her gaze on me, and I become overwhelmed by the magnitude of her stare. She’s looking at me as if I’m her everything. Her forever. The love radiating from her is palpable, and I can feel it humming through her existence and into mine. Her lips move, and I easily decipher the words through the thumping music as, I love you.
Then, she does the most incredible thing. Her fingers move to the chain around her neck that holds both her engagement and wedding ring. She unclasps it before it falls free. Both rings slide easily down the chain until they fall into her hand. Everything in the world is set to rights as she slips both rings on her left ring finger.
That one single gesture makes me feel like a bigger fucking rock star than the one onstage. Words are not needed, not when actions speak louder than words.
We fought, and we won.
There’s no maybe between us anymore.
There is only her and me and us.
And, knowing she’s opened her heart all the way for the second time, there’s no way I’m going to fuck that up again.
She’s not going anywhere this time.
Smiling like I’m the luckiest bastard on this earth, I clasp her hand in mine and pull it up to my mouth where I press my lips against both rings. I then pull her to me, leaning my head down to her petite height, and crush my lips on hers. We stay locked together for the remainder of the encore, the music fueling our mouths into a kiss of all epic kisses.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re walking hand in hand from the beach toward the main complex, heading to the main terrace bar.
“That was amazing,” she gushes, excitement coming off her in steam. “I never thought they could top the last concert I saw, but they did, and it was incredible!”
While she rambles on about “the best” band in the world, I spot a darkened area, and unable to control myself, I push her back against a wall of one of the hotel blocks. Her breath hitches, and I inhale her deeply, tracing my nose along the dip in her neck, my hands on either side of her head, caging her in.
“No, you’re amazing,” I growl before slamming my lips onto hers.
She groans as I invade her mouth with my tongue. We hungrily kiss for a few seconds before I snatch my lips away, breathing heavily, nostrils flaring with an almost painful desire coursing through my veins like uncontrollable wildfire. I take hold of her hand and gaze down at the diamond ring and band glistening against the moonlit sky.
Fuck, they look so right, sitting so perfectly against her finger.
“This means everything. Fucking everything,” I heatedly declare, my entire body shaking with the pure love I have for this woman.
She owns me—heart, body, and soul—and I gladly handed them over to her the second she uttered the word tatas.
“Now that I have my rings back on your finger, where they belong, when we land back in Dallas, the first spot is to your apartment where we’re going to pack all your stuff up, and you’re coming back home with me. We might be far from the married couple we once were, and we’ve still got shit to work through, but I’m not living through another day without waking up beside you every morning. I’m done with that bullshit. I’m done with it all. We work through our shit together because that’s exactly what it is—our shit. We might not have perfect days, and there might be times when we want to strangle each other senseless, but there isn’t a single part of you that isn’t mine and vice fucking versa. You are mine—in every sense of the word. Mine,” I end on a growl, my chest heaving with unsteady breaths as I stare down at her.
She rakes her hands through my hair and grips the strands in her fists, bringing my face closer to hers. “Yes, I want to come home,” she breathlessly exhales.
Everything that’s happened between us in the past doesn’t matter. Every argument, every disagreement, every tear that we’d shed was worth it, especially if it led to this moment. I wish we hadn’t lost so much time, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters now is that she’s here, in my arms, looking at me like I’m her world, universe, and galaxy combined.
I’m one lucky motherfucker.
Those six words of, “Yes, I want to come home,” send me over the edge, and I’m unable to control myself as I grip Mia’s s
kirt at the slits along each thigh and roughly rip the material open all the way up to her hips. Mia’s breath hitches, and a low, raspy groan slips from her throat as I lift her up, grinding my hips against her.
“Tyler,” she whimpers, throwing her head back with pure pleasure, as she clenches her legs around my ass, her fingers piercing against my shoulders, rocking against me. “God, I love you so much,” she cries out as I pound my hips against hers, plowing my hard cock against the thin lace of her panties.
“I fucking love you more,” I return on a feral growl as I slam my lips to hers.
While balancing Mia with one arm, I make quick work of opening the fly of my jeans and pulling my dick out. Impatiently, I hurriedly shove Mia’s panties to the side and slam into her with one thrust of the hips. We both grunt at the impact, and I fuck her like a savage with fierce hits of my cock, ruthlessly taking what’s mine while she wildly takes what’s hers.
Tyler
The rest of our vacation goes by in a blur, and tonight is our last night in Punta Cana. The last few days have been spent at the beach, relaxing in the sun, losing money in the hotel’s casino, and having sex in every spot possible without getting caught. Last night, after dinner and dancing in the hotel’s nightclub, we found ourselves on the beach at four in the morning where we were finally able to tick skinny-dipping off our bucket list. Yes, we finally had incredible beach sex, both in the sea and on the sand, before sitting back and enjoying the sunrise. How we were allowed on the beach at that time in the morning was beyond me, but regardless, it wouldn’t have stopped me from fucking my wife there.
We spent this morning and part of the afternoon out on sea on a catamaran where we cruised along the coastline and snorkeled around the coral reefs. I love snorkeling, but Mia had never tried it. It was fun, showing her the ropes, and once she got the hang of breathing through the mouthpiece after the initial panic new beginners experienced when learning how to breathe using the snorkel underwater, she was reluctant to leave. The sun got us good today, and after a full hour of swimming with our backs to it, it wasn’t until we took a shower back at the hotel that we could both feel the sting of the burn.
I am lying on the bed and watching Mia in only her panties as she gets ready for tonight.
“I don’t think I can even wear a bra tonight.” She winces as she looks at her red back through the mirror.
“No complaints here,” I say with a grin.
She just throws me a dirty look.
“Did you bring any after-sun gel with you?” I ask with a serious tone.
She shakes her head, her facial features turning sad, almost as if she wants to burst out into tears with the pain of the sunburn. Hating the possibility of her not being able to enjoy the last night because of the sunburn has me shooting off the bed, and I pick the phone up that’s on the side table beside the bed.
“I’ll call down to the lobby and see if anyone can bring us a bottle,” I say, dialing number one on the keypad.
Ten minutes later, a bellboy arrives at the door with a bottle of after-sun gel. I tip the guy more than I should, and I don’t miss the way the Spanish guy scurries away just in case I’ve made a mistake with my fifty-dollar tip.
“Lie on your front, baby. I’ll rub the after-sun lotion on your back,” I instruct softly.
She does exactly that. I kneel behind her and climb on top of her, comfortably resting on my haunches against her ass. I shake the bottle before pouring a generous amount in my hand. She hisses when my hands touch her flaming skin, but as I gently begin rubbing it into her back, she sighs with relief.
“That feels good,” she says against the mattress.
As I continue soothing the burns, I feel her relax a little. She turns her head to the side and leans on her crossed arms.
“I’m really sad this is our last night,” she says with an almost dejected tone.
I have to admit, I’m a little sad myself that it’s our last night here.
“I know. Me, too, baby.”
“I love it here so much that I already want to plan another trip.”
I squeeze some more lotion in my hand and lean over her to get higher up her back and over her shoulders. “Maybe we can come back next summer and stay here for a full two weeks. What do you say?” I suggest, definitely wanting to return here again. It’s incredible, and it’s brought Mia and me back together, helping us connect on a deeper level and binding us together as one.
She sighs again, but this time, it’s with joy.
“That would be amazing. There’s so much more to do here, like swim with the dolphins, horseback riding on the beach, buggy riding. But, next time, I’m bringing water-resistant sun lotion,” she grumbles, giving out another whimpering hiss as I continue to massage the lotion into her back.
“How’s that feel?” I ask once her entire back is covered with the lotion.
“A little better, but we definitely can’t have normal sex tonight. It’ll have to be of the doggy-style variety.”
I chuckle as I lean over her and press my mouth to her ear. “When have we ever had normal sex?” I don’t let her answer. Instead, I press my lips to her mouth and swallow any answer she might have had. I lean back and give her ass a gentle tap. “Turn around, so I can get your chest.”
She slowly pivots her body, gently lying on her back, wincing a little as she does. I straddle her hips. I pour lotion into my hand and start just above her breasts. I use my hands to massage upward and over her shoulders, soothing the red skin, although it’s not nearly as raw as her back. I feel her eyes on me as I squirt a little more lotion into my hand, and this time, I stray away from the sun-kissed skin and massage my hands way past her tan lines and over her plump tits. I glance to her face, and I notice how her pupils dilate and how her nipples pebble harder under my touch.
“Um, I don’t recall ever catching the sun in that particular area of my anatomy,” she muses, a smirk pulling at her lips.
I continue caressing my hands over her tits, cupping them a little. “I’m just being thorough. I wouldn’t want your tatas,” I say with a wink, “to suffer because I didn’t give them the care and attention they deserve.” I give them a firm squeeze.
I don’t miss the way her chest begins to rise and fall, her breathing a little choppy. She shifts a little beneath me, and the evident bulge in my shorts lies perfectly against her lower stomach. She moans my name when I pinch both nipples between my fingers.
“We have a reservation in less than half an hour,” she breathes out in an almost protest.
But the way she’s squirming under my touch tells me she won’t mind being a couple of minutes late. I ignore her comment and drag my moistened hands down her stomach until I reach the edge of her panties, slipping my hands underneath the waistband.
“Tyler,” she says as she lets out a breathless laugh, shaking her head a little.
“I need to check and make sure you didn’t get any sun damage anywhere else.”
I slip my fingers deeper into her panties and spread her lips apart. I brush against her wet opening. She shudders under me, and I keep my eyes trained on her, enjoying the flush I see along her cheeks.
“Oh, I think you’re safe here,” I say, sliding my thumb over her clit, adding a little pressure as I rub it in a circular motion.
Her hips rise off the bed, and she gives out a loud moan.
“But I think I should check to make sure, as it feels a little hot,” I drag the words out, my voice growing husky as I feel the lust swirl around us.
I then sink two fingers inside her and make good work of her pussy until she’s screaming and coming around my fingers.
That isn’t what makes us late for our reservation though. It’s when she gets down on her knees and proceeds to give me a blow job.
When we eventually make it out of the hotel room, we head to dinner—albeit having to wait forty-five minutes for another table, as we lost our reservation—before heading to one of the outside bars that plays l
ive music. Mia’s dressed in a loose-fitted white lace dress that’s backless, bar the two spaghetti straps that zigzag across her back. It’s the only dress she had with her that wouldn’t irritate her sunburn. The white really accentuates her sun-kissed skin, and even though it’s flowy, it makes her tits look phenomenal.
With her hand in mine, I lead her to one of the tables on the terrace, so we can enjoy the beautiful starlit night with the hint of sea salt in the air. A small makeshift stage is set up with a young woman who sits on a stool with a guitar in her arms, playing rock hits but in a slow acoustic way.
Mia takes a seat beside me as a waiter takes our drink orders, and of course, I order a hurricane while Mia orders a strawberry daiquiri. She hasn’t drunk a whole lot since we’ve been here, her limit being around two drinks each night, and as much as I wish she’d get stupid drunk with me, I know the reason she’s cut back on alcohol, so I’ve never bugged her about it. Just seeing her this relaxed is good enough for me. She hasn’t needed the intoxication of alcohol to help her reach it, and I love that. Of course, I haven’t either, but the hurricanes in this place are kind of addictive, and I’ve been unable to resist. I haven’t been drinking them to fill a void—albeit I might have done the first day here—because being with Mia is all the calm I need. The hurricanes are just a sweet, delicious bonus.
The waiter drops off our drinks, and I’m unable to take my eyes off Mia as she takes a leisurely sip of her drink.
Under the evening sky, with the incredible way her hair blows through the gentle breeze while the candle in the middle of the table glows against her flushed cheeks, I thank my lucky stars that this woman is mine in every sense of the word. I might have taken her for granted in the past, but now, I truly understand the beauty I have been graced with. Never again will I risk throwing away one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Hell, she’s the best thing to ever happen to me.
Till Forever Page 24
