by Daphne Dawn
Daniel sits up with a sigh and pulls the curtains closed to the cabana.
“There, is that better?” he teases.
“Um…not really.” I burst into laughter.
Daniel looks at the curtain and realizes it’s see-through fabric mesh, and we’re still fully exposed to the world.
“Oh, well,” Daniel shrugs and gets that devilish, lust-filled glaze over his handsome features all over again. “Let them see.”
Daniel
She’s nervous.
It’s almost cute, watching those cinnamon roll eyes of hers dart to the beach behind me, looking for some imagined voyeur who’s going to see all the dirty things we’re about to do to each other.
All the dirty things I’m about to make her do.
“Don’t look so anxious,” I tell her soothingly. I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I’ve got a soothing voice: deep and dark and rich.
I stand and take the arms off her dinner chair. I’m able to pick her up, chair and all, and turn her toward me with ease.
“I’ve never been watched before,” she says.
Rose’s smile is saucy, but I can see that flicker of fear in her eyes. It makes me hard, pushing her. I want to take Rose to the edge of her limits and then push her beyond them.
She’s so strong, so beautiful, and so fucking pure that to see her break would be ecstasy…
But to see her resist, rise above her fears, and take what she wants from the man who wants her?
Even better.
I’ve known fear in my life. Christ, some of the shit those cock-crazed women on those fan sites say about me is enough to make any man’s balls recede. Women on the internet write some weird-ass shit.
I’ve read the fuck-me schemes, where those women plan to somehow seduce me, poke a hole in the condom, and get themselves pregnant off my seed.
I’ve read the weird-ass plans to dive through my trash, locate my spent condoms, and make a baby with my discarded loads. If I was dumb enough to fall for that shit, it might have even worked.
I know my body, and I know my cock.
I’m prime breeding material.
It’s no wonder that women are falling over themselves in their obsession with my billion-dollar cum shots.
But I don’t want to live in fear tonight.
Not in fear of where my cum might fall on Rose’s delicious, perfect cunt. Not of who might see us, or what they might see us do.
No, I’m not afraid of being watched.
Rose shouldn’t be, either.
I take her cheek in the palm of my hand, and she leans into it. I watch the way the sunset makes her glow—the golden tinge to her skin, and the reflections in her eyes, all pink and purple in her cinnamon irises.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” I say, because she is.
She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, in fact. I don’t think I’ll ever meet another beauty quite of her caliber ever again.
“You should be used to being watched by now, Rose.”
“I am…to an extent,” she giggles. It’s a nervous giggle. Still too fucking cute to handle. “But men staring at me on the street, fully clothed, are different from…”
“From what?” I ask, trailing my fingertips down her neck.
“From a stranger watching me…with you.”
A blush rises on Rose's breasts like it’s blooming straight from her heart. Seeing her tits like that—all pushed up and heaving beneath the plunging neckline of her dress—it does things to my cock. Things that make me never want to look at another woman ever again.
Things that make me want to look at Rose for eternities.
“It doesn’t get you off at all?” I ask. My fingertips are at her shoulders now, teasing the straps of the tight little dress she came to me in. “The thought that anyone could see you orgasming around my fingers, against my mouth?”
The blush blossoms all the way up her neck now. I can feel her skin grow hot beneath my fingers. I watch it turn as pink as her namesake.
“I’ve…fantasized about it before,” Rose admits to me.
Christ. One little confession from those pretty lips, and she’s got me so hard.
My cock is fucking aching.
“Tell me more,” I say.
I have to know more.
Rose’s eyes dart to and fro again, searching for that imaginary onlooker. They don’t find anyone, and they won’t—but I need her focused now.
I take her chin between my finger and thumb and turn her face up to me.
“Tell me your fantasy, Rose,” I say, running my thumb over her lower lip now. “And I’ll make it come true.”
She inhales, leaning into my touch again. She might play shy, but it’s not who she really is. I know that beneath all these blushing petals, there’s something raw and wild at her core that’s just begging to be plucked.
“I’ve imagined…being fingered,” she admits. “At the movie theater, or on a train. On the subway, maybe—except that would be fucking insane, because the subway is nasty.”
I chuckle. She’s not wrong.
“Fingered by who, Rose?”
“A man,” she gasps.
She gasps again when I take one of the straps of her dress and pull it down off her shoulder, leaving it slumped against the taut bicep of her arm. “A man who wants me…”
“A man who wants you so badly, he can’t wait to take you home,” I growl, pulling down the other strap. Roses’ tits are barely covered by the tight black fabric now. With one more tug, they’ll spill out into the open…free for me to claim and kiss and make mine. “A man who’s bold enough and man enough that he won’t fucking wait.”
“And you want me that bad?” she whispers, staring up at me.
“You have no idea.”
Her eyes close. She gasps again when I grab the front of her top and yank it downward. Just as I predicted, her tits spill forward. She has the prettiest fucking nipples—already hard for me, just begging to be pleased.
My mouth falls to one of them like I’m some kind of starving beast. For her, maybe I am.
I’m starved for Rose, and a man can only control himself so much.
She moans when I take her nipple between my lips, and when I take it between my teeth, she cries out.
For a moment, the beast abates. I look up at her, ensuring that I haven’t hurt her.
But her eyes are closed in blissful pleasure, and even as I pause, her back arches.
She’s shoving her breasts against me in my hesitation, whimpering, begging, and trying to force me to give her more.
She doesn’t have to want twice.
My tongue roams across the hard, swollen peak of her nipple as I take her into my arms. I pull Rose against me, breathing in the scent of her perfume with every breath. The closer she is to me, the easier it is to smell past that perfume.
It’s beautiful, but it’s not half as good as the smell of her bare, flushed skin.
“Daniel,” she moans.
I release one nipple, only to fall upon the other. I wouldn’t want to neglect something so fucking beautiful and so damn tasty.
“Daniel,” she whimpers.
Her hips grind against my body as I pull her up out of the chair.
“Daniel!” she gasps.
Rose is a perfect woman, I realize—even more perfect than I could have imagined. She wants a baby, not just in mind, but in body, too. Her broad, child-bearing hips move against me in a silent plea—one that I’ll fulfill in due time.
“Daniel!” she cries.
When I’m ready, I’m going to take this woman. I’m going to mark her as mine, fill her with my seed and watch her perfect, flat stomach swell with my child—
Fuck, when did I get full onboard with this plan?
“Daniel! Daniel! Daniel!”
Rose’s whole body shakes as she calls my name. As the shaking subsides, I hear her release a little giggle against my chest.
“I think…I think you
just made me come from…my nipples,” she laughs in disbelief.
Fuck. Her body responds to me so effortlessly, I don’t even have to get her panties off before I’m making her orgasm in my arms.
“Does that happen often?” I ask out of curiosity.
“Nooooo,” she says forcefully, shaking her head. “Never before. What…what the fuck even was that?”
I shrug, lowering her back into her chair and pressing a kiss against her lips.
“Chemistry,” I laugh. “Biology, maybe.”
When I pull away from the kiss, I see her eyes dart around once more. Like she’s checking to make sure no one saw her orgasming while having her nipples sucked like a fucking slut.
“Rose,” I level with her. “You’re beautiful. I’m obviously gorgeous. Stop fucking worrying.”
“I know,” she laughs. “It’s just…what if like, serial killers—”
I shake my head, laughing again. “You watch too many horror movies, sweetheart,” I say, kissing her again. “And decidedly not enough porn.”
“What if someone does see us, though?” She’s still giddy from her nipple-gasm. I’m watching her nervousness dissipate before my very eyes.
This woman is such a fucking tease.
“Let. Them. See,” I say definitively.
My eyes drop to the hem of Rose’s skirt. Her eyes follow mine.
She won’t be worrying about anything in a minute or two.
That’s a fucking guarantee.
Rose
“Let them see,” Daniel says, like it’s no big deal for him at all. Any moment, anyone taking a stroll on the shoreline of his resort could come along and see Daniel and me fucking atop the table through the gauzy curtains of this cabana.
Any moment, some fitness guru jogging along the beach could stumble upon us, making out a beast with two backs while I twist those curtains up in my fists.
Any moment, a serial killer with a machete could come along and decide that, y’know what? He hates it when couples have romantic trysts on his murder beach!
After all…after reading some of the forum posts from Daniel’s insane internet fans, I wouldn’t put it past the bitches.
Like, that’s what happens to sexy couples fucking in secluded, romantic areas in the movies, right? They get slashed by an obsessive psychopath and end up on the front page of the newspaper the next day.
Hell, there’s probably an aging police detective somewhere out there in this city right now, just a few days from retirement. And he’s going to end up with our sex-scene-gone-wrong as his final case.
That’s how unrealistic all of this feels to me right now. Like we’re in a movie—not even our own movie, but someone else’s. That’s how hot Daniel is, and how insanely rich―and more importantly―how sweet he’s been to me.
Part of me wants to call bullshit. I’ve been holding my breath for the hidden cameras to pop out since I met this guy. Now, I’m totally ready.
A billionaire? On a beach? At sunset?
While drinking this wine?
This kind of thing happens to other women. It doesn’t happen to me.
Any minute now, Ashton Kutcher is going to jump out from the waves crashing against the shore. He’s gonna be like, “Haha, PUNK’D! Gotcha!” and I’m going to have to try and act like my panties aren’t dripping fucking wet right now.
But none of that happens.
The waves roll in off the ocean.
The sunset reflects off the water.
Daniel nudges my sandals apart with the toe of his sexy leather shoe.
“Tell me you don’t want it.”
I swallow hard and lick my lips. They taste like fine wine and wanting.
I like that. I like the way he’s looking at me even more.
“I don’t want to lie,” I admit.
It’s the only go-ahead he needs.
Daniel moves to his knees. That’s probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen: a man as powerful as him and as handsome as him, kneeling before someone like me.
I haven’t been able to get it out of my head, how bad I want this strong, sexy man to dominate my anxious ass and make me beg for his cock like a sex-crazed slut. But now that he’s on his knees before me, pushing my knees apart and looking at me like I hung the moon in the sky tonight…
I feel like a queen.
Just like that, all my inhibitions are put out to shore and washed away with the tide.
A salt wind blows in off the water. It’s cool and fresh and smells like the waves. I shiver when it kisses my skin.
The cold air raises goosebumps all over my body. I can feel them on my shoulders and my neck, my breasts, and my thighs.
But Daniel’s cheek is warm as his presses it against my knee. And his lips as he kisses up my inner thigh…
His lips are hot. Every place that they touch on my skin burns with longing, and that longing builds into something that’s becoming harder and harder to control.
It’s not usually like this. This isn’t normal, wanting someone the way I want him.
By the time he’s kissed all the way up one thigh, I can feel the humidity of his breath against the thin layer of lace that separates my pussy from his firm, greedy mouth.
By the time he’s kissed back down the other, I don’t just want him anymore.
I need this man.
If anyone can see us…let them see.
“Sip your wine,” he orders.
I don’t even think about it. My fingers instinctively curl around the stem of my glass. It makes the power dynamic between us right now deeply clear: even when Daniel is on his knees, he’s still in charge.
He can pamper me—make me feel like a queen holding court by the sea—but no matter what, he’s still king of this sand castle.
And I’m his prize.
Daniel’s hands smooth up my thighs. His touch is practically orgasmic. There’s nothing quite like feeling a pair of strong, handsome hands on your skin.
It’s been too long since I’ve known a touch like his—or maybe, his touch is just unlike any other I’ve ever felt.
His fingers hook beneath the waistband of my panties, sliding them downward. He doesn’t break eye contact with me the entire time he does it. It’s like he’s intent on making sure that he doesn’t push me to far…or maybe he’s challenging me to try and stop him.
Stopping him is the last thing I want. I slide down on my chair, and lift my ass up for him so he can slip my panties off of me.
The black lace glides down my thighs with ease. Removing them releases my scent. I’m so fucking wet for Daniel, the perfume of my soaked pussy hangs around us for a moment before the next gust of wind washes it away.
While it does, Daniel closes his eyes and inhales through his nose. Like a man smelling the bouquet of a fine wine.
I sip my white and let the flavor explode on my tongue, while Daniel follows his nose to what I can tell his body really wants right now: a taste.
His tongue slips between my smooth-shaven pussy lips with wanting. They’re slick for him. Dripping with my warm honey and just begging to be licked.
He laps at my cunt like the waves on the shore. Daniel drinks from me, like my pussy is a goblet, and he’s a man dying for a drink.
On the beach, every wave comes in harder than the last.
Between my thighs, Daniel’s tongue moves in the same way. He’s building, and building, and building to something, and the something is inside me.
In my cunt. In my womb. Growing and growing with increased intensity.
Daniel sucks and licks my clit like he’s in love with the taste.
Any moment now, his tongue is going to make the wave that’s mounting inside of me crash through my body, finally breaking against my skin.
Have you ever been out on the ocean? Not some silly lakeside beach, but the real ocean. Huge and vast, powerful and wide.
The ocean that tempted our ancient ancestors to build boats and sail beyond its blue horizons. The same
ocean that inspired fearful tales of its watery depths.
The same ocean that broke the very boats its mysteries inspired.
When you move out far enough into the ocean, you learn to jump with the waves. They carry your body upward, up to giddy heights, and lower you back down only to take you higher still.
But then it happens: a wave moves towards you, and you know it will break before it gets to your body.
You’re faced with two choices: freeze up and let it crash down on you, sucking you under and sending your spinning, or you can dive beneath it and marvel in its power.
I feel the orgasm coming, and I choose to dive deep.
It crashes against my body anyway.
I feel the wine slosh in my glass as it hits me. My pussy undulates as Daniel wraps his arms beneath my thighs and holds onto my waist. My hips thrash against his mouth, bucking upwards.
I’m not sure if I’m trying to shake him or trying to shove my clit even harder against his face.
But Daniel is a hard man to shake, and by the time the orgasm washes back out to sea, I’m left trembling. Shivering with pleasure.
Shipwrecked against his shores and desperate for something—not just another orgasm from his mouth, but something more.
“I need you,” I pant. My voice sounds all breathy and high, like I’ve just swam the whole of the Atlantic in a single night. “I need you, Daniel. I need you.”
This isn’t like me. I’m usually satisfied after one! I’m not a greedy woman, and I’ve never been this fucking demanding of a man.
But judging by the way Daniel is smiling up at me, his lips laying a final kiss on my cunt, I know.
This isn’t like me, and Daniel has orchestrated it that way. The openness. The waves.
The aphrodisiacs, the setting sun, and an orgasm that hits me so hard, it knocks me free of my rational mind into a place where I’ll do anything he asks as long as it means feeling that kind of rapture again.
“Sip your wine,” he orders with an amused twitch of his brow.
My hand is shaking as Daniel slips a condom out of his pocket, and I bring the glass back up to my lips.
Daniel
