Lost in Paradise: A Sinners on Tour Honeymoon

by Olivia Cunning

  The wind was brisk today, but not extreme. The storms that had attempted to drown their wedding ceremony had been far more threatening than the gray bank of clouds currently overhead. They had an ultramodern craft, state-of-the-art communications, and each other. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

  Sed pulled out his cellphone and noted the strong signal. “I’m going to call my mom and let her know we’re taking the boat out.”

  “Good idea. If we get lost at sea, it would be nice if someone would know to look for us.”

  He hadn’t thought of that. His father had always been in charge of making float plans. Sed had been more concerned that his mother might worry that the boat had been stolen. The mast was visible from her condo if she happened to be looking for it. “You’re right. We need to tell someone we’re leaving. So we plan to check out the Channel Islands off the coast and we’ll be back before dark?”

  Jessica nodded.

  His mom didn’t answer, so he left a message, giving details of their plans and whereabouts. He ended with, “I figured you’d probably want to sell the boat so you wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore, but maybe I’ll take it off your hands. Let me know if that would be okay. I’ll buy it from you.”

  He never wanted his family to have to worry about money, and his mom was almost as bad at asking for monetary assistance as Jessica was. He’d gotten into a huge fight with his mom when he insisted he’d pay for his sisters’ college tuition. He’d won in the end. And he’d even convinced Mom to accept the nice condo he’d bought his folks as a thirty-year anniversary present. But she’d only agreed because he’d already paid cash for it and she thought he’d end up losing a bunch of money on the deal.

  When he hung up, Jessica slipped her arms around his waist. “Did you just buy us a boat?’

  He cringed and rubbed his forehead. “Oh, shit. I guess I should check with my wife on major purchases, shouldn’t I? Is it okay? I can call her back and tell her I changed my mind.”

  “Don’t be silly. It’s your money and your dad’s boat. You don’t have to check with me.”

  “It’s our money and will be our boat, so yes, I do have to check with you.”

  “Sed—”

  “And if you go out and buy yourself a new Maserati, I expect you to check with me first.”

  “A new Maserati? Of course I’d ask first. But what if it’s a used Maserati?”

  He laughed and squeezed her. “Use your best judgment in that case.”

  “If I was using my best judgment, I’d buy a Honda, not a Maserati.”

  “You do need a new car. Yours is a piece of junk.”

  “Hey! I worked hard to buy that piece of junk.”

  “And now you have to work hard putting up with me.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not work. That’s pleasure.”

  He smoothed back her pale strawberry-blond hair and kissed her forehead. “You’ve earned a new minivan for making me so happy.”

  “Minivan? I’m not driving a fucking minivan.”

  “Not even for the baby’s sake? Myrna drives one.” He considered Brian’s wife brilliant for sacrificing the driving of her vintage pink convertible to ensure that their baby rode comfortably in a safe vehicle.

  “I might drive an SUV.” Jessica crinkled her nose and shook her head. “Nope. A car seat will fit in your Mercedes just fine.”

  “Our Mercedes,” he corrected.

  She blew out a frustrated breath. “We have to stop arguing about this mine versus yours stuff.”

  “I’m not arguing. Everything I have, everything I am, is yours.”

  “Well, I plan to keep a little something of myself for myself. I can’t be Sedica or Jessric. I’m me and you’re you and we’re sharing our lives, not merging into one perfect being. Marriage is work. I’m work.”

  He chuckled and squeezed her tight. “Yes, you are, and that’s one of the many reasons I love you. But not on our honeymoon. On our honeymoon, there’s no work. You’re Jessric and I’m Sedica. We’ve merged. We’re perfect together.”

  She cupped his face between her palms and gazed lovingly into his eyes. “But I wanted to be Sedica.”

  “That won’t work. Eric has accused me of calling out my own name during sex. If you’re going by Sedica, that’s bound to happen for real, and I’d never live it down.”

  “How would he find out?” Jessica glanced around. “He’s not here watching us, is he?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him, but no. I was thinking our next sex video—Honeymoon Rocks the Sailboat—might get out. With the slightest of editing by some asshole, I’m calling you Sed instead of Sedica.”

  “Fine, I’ll be Jessric. Don’t ever say I haven’t made sacrifices for you.”

  “So you’re fine with the sex video idea?”

  “That didn’t go so well the last time.”

  She no longer went into a rage when the subject came up, but she’d been inconsolable when a “fan” recorded the two of them getting it on in Vegas and posted the video on the Internet.

  “This time I’ll be in charge of the camera,” he said. “I won’t post it online.”

  “Uhhh . . . no. Besides, honeymooning rock star with huge dick banging his hot wife on a boat has been done.”

  And yep, that well-known stolen sex tape had been distributed against the couple’s wishes.

  “Maybe. But did they bang on a sailboat?”

  “Couldn’t tell. It was mostly close-ups of a big dick.”

  So filming was out, but he was definitely planning on quite a bit of banging while they were on the boat. They had to get out to sea first, however.

  After Sed gave basic instructions to his novice first mate, they unmoored the boat and he started the engine. Maneuvering the craft away from the pier was a little tricky, but he managed to not run them ashore or hit any of the other boats. Once they were out in open water, the tasks got a lot easier. He even found the confidence to cut the engine and hoist the sails—or rather to press the proper sequence of controls to have the boat hoist the sails. It was far easier than running up sails manually, as he’d done as a boy under his father’s persistent instruction.

  The mainsail was striped red, yellow, and blue; the smaller jib sail, plain white. Both billowed and flapped as they caught the wind and pulled them smoothly through the water.

  “Do you want to man the wheel?” he asked Jessica, smiling so broadly that his face hurt. He’d forgotten how much he loved sailing.

  “I’ll just ogle the man manning the wheel, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Ogle a little closer,” he said, holding a hand out to her. When she accepted it, he tugged her into the space between his belly and the wheel.

  “I can’t ogle if I’m not facing you.”

  “Too bad.”

  He couldn’t resist nuzzling her neck or pressing his rapidly engorging cock against her firm ass. He took one hand off the wheel to palm her lower belly, and she sighed in surrender. Everything about this felt right: the deck beneath his feet; the woman in one hand, wheel in the other; the breeze blowing her silky hair against his cheek and neck; the sounds of the rigging creaking softly and the water lapping against the hull. He’d found his paradise. It was wherever Jessica happened to be.

  “Are we going the right way?” she asked.

  He opened his eyes, not even realizing that he’d closed them to absorb the moment.

  “I’d check the GPS, but I don’t want to move.”

  “Let’s just keep sailing,” she said. “We’ll find our way back later.”

  “Later.”

  Sed reached for Jessica’s chest. Her breath caught, and she arched her back, pressing her soft breast securely against his palm.

  Sed’s opposite hand slid under the loose cover-up Jessica had donned over her sexy white bikini. The skin of her belly was smooth as satin as he stroked his way upward. There were a few boats in the not-so-far distance, but he knew that the idea of being caught in compromis
ing positions excited his wife as much as it excited him. After removing her cover-up and tossing it to the deck, he brushed her top aside, freeing one hard nipple from her bikini and exposing her beauty to anyone who cared to enjoy it. She arched back into him, her ass pressing hard against his cock.

  “Steer,” he said gruffly as he pressed his other hand down the front of her bikini bottoms and spread her lips to expose her clit to his fingers.

  She took the wheel. “Where am I going?”

  “Straight. Just don’t hit anything.”

  “Good thing there’s nothing out here to hit.”

  He peeled her bottoms down her thighs, and they slid to the deck. She kicked them aside and opened for him, a soft moan escaping her when his fingertips dipped into her heat. Damn, she was wet already. She shifted her hips, and his fingers slid deeper. Her groan grabbed him by the balls and had him rubbing against her ass, unwilling to remove his hands from her body even long enough to pull his swim trunks aside.

  “Sedica,” she murmured. “Get your dick out of your pants and into mine.”

  He wasn’t sure what had her so hot—him or the yacht that was now close enough for passengers and crew to see them. He pressed a button to lower the sails, and as they lost the wind, the boat slowed. He dropped the anchor.

  “Why are we stopping?”

  “Because I’m going to fuck you now.”

  A shudder rippled through her body. “Here? But that boat over there . . .” Her breath caught when the sound of the yacht’s party music drifted across the waves.

  Might hear them? See them? Exactly.

  Steering with one hand, she reached the other behind her to tug at his shorts. She inched them down his hips, but they got caught on his hard-on. Losing patience, he slipped his fingers out of her body and freed himself. He pressed her belly up against the wheel and entered her from behind. A groan escaped him. He never felt quite close enough to her unless he was balls deep inside her. He shifted her out from behind the captain’s wheel, thrusting into her and massaging her clit with one hand, her tit with the other, as they walked, one slow but steady step at a time, toward the front of the boat.

  “Climb up on the deck,” he demanded.

  She didn’t argue as she crawled up on the deck. He followed her on his knees, then when she stopped, he caught her hip in one hand, his cock in the other, and found her again. She moaned as he pushed deep, and rocked back to meet his thrusts. The sway of the boat and the hard, slick surface beneath his knees unbalanced him, sending his already skyrocketing pulse rate higher.

  “Yes, Sedica,” Jess called. “Harder. Fuck me harder. Shatter me.”

  He grunted as he pounded into her, forgetting she was his treasured wife to concentrate on fucking her raw. Her moans of encouragement fueled his fire. He could easily make her come with a few practiced rubs of his thumb against her clit, but he was going to make her work for it.

  Her impatience for release got the better of her, and she reached between her legs to send herself over the edge, but he grabbed her wrist and pressed her hand against the deck.

  “No,” he said in a deep growl. “Not the easy way.”

  “I need to come, Sed. Please.”

  He grabbed a handful of her hair and leaned close to her ear. “You don’t think I’ll get you there?”

  “I didn’t say that. It just takes longer.”

  Especially in doggy style. He knew her body as well as she did.

  “So impatient, love. Our audience will be disappointed.”

  She lifted her head, tugging against his hold on her hair, and looked toward the party yacht anchored nearby.

  “No one’s looking,” she said. She actually sounded disappointed.

  “But they might.” Her pussy clenched around his cock, and his breath caught. God, she felt good.

  She crawled forward, pulling away from him, and he followed. He grabbed his cock and found her again. She looked toward the yacht, crawled forward again.

  “Jess,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back toward him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “The boom is blocking their view.”

  That was an easy fix. He urged her onto her back. She winced as a skylight that served the cabin below pressed into her shoulder but adjusted into a more comfortable position.

  “How’s that?”

  She looked at the yacht again. “Better, I think.” Her attention turned to his face. “And now I can stare into your eyes.”

  Her tender smile made his chest ache.

  That made it harder for him to fuck her, though. He’d quickly get wrapped up in emotion, tangled in her love, lost in feelings, and his focus would shift away from his reminding her pussy that he ruled its pleasure. He kissed her and settled between her thighs, entering her again, using his toes to dig into the deck so he could fill her deeply.

  “Better for sure,” she said breathlessly, but she wasn’t looking at their potential spectators. She was looking at him.

  He tried fucking her hard and fast, but his hips had a different agenda. When he ground into her, it made her lashes flutter, and when he rotated his hips as he pulled out, her lips parted, and when he shifted to press his cockhead upward as he entered her, she moaned. His motions became orchestrated by his obsession to coax a variety of responses from her. She shattered, as requested, quickly, and he held still to experience the rhythmic tug of her pussy as it tried to pull him over the edge with her. He refused it victory, however, and started the process of rediscovering her body again. He enjoyed her slow rebuilding, loving that they had no reason to rush. They had nowhere to be except together.

  “Someone’s looking,” Jessica whispered.

  Her words sparked the natural performer in him, and his actions became more about getting a response out of her to please their audience. He did appreciate a standing ovation. Those never got old.

  “Keep your face hidden,” she said. “In case they’re recording.”

  He shifted her slightly so that their heads were angled away from the yacht and closed his eyes so that the sight of his beautiful wife didn’t command his performance. If he watched her face, he’d be back to making tender love to her in a matter of seconds rather than fucking the best piece of ass on the planet.

  Based on the sound of her moans in his ear, she was enjoying being pounded, but he didn’t dare look. He just kept right on thrusting into her with enough force to push her across the deck. Normally nothing satisfied him more than coming deep inside her, but he wanted his cum all over her. His muscles strained as he fucked her harder, harder. Tension and heat built between them. Pleasure and need consumed him. Almost there. Come on, Jess. Come with me.

  She cried out, her body shuddering beneath his, her pussy tugging his cock. He let her pull him along with her and over the edge. The first pulse of release filled her, but he forced himself to pull out. He groaned as the second pulse covered her pussy in cum, and he managed to grab his dick just in time to spurt more over her lower belly. He stroked out the last of his load and was pretty sure the cheers coming from the other boat were for him.

  When he finally allowed himself to look at his wife, his heart almost stopped. Jessica’s head was inches from the edge of the boat. A few more thrusts from him and she might have fallen into the vast, cold, unforgiving ocean. He yanked her away from the edge and against his chest, holding her head against his thundering heart.

  “What’s wrong?” Jessica asked.

  “I promised I’d never put you in danger again,” he said. “And I almost fucked you into a watery grave.”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Better than fine. That was so hot. God, I came hard.”

  How could she think of sex at such a time? “You’re wearing a life vest from now on,” he said, crawling back toward the relative safety of the cockpit and dragging her along with him.

  “You’re not the boss of me.”

  Ordinarily he would have laughed at her childlike protes
t, but he was too scared of losing her to find any humor in the situation. He didn’t take a decent breath until she was buckled securely into the life vest he pulled from a bin behind the captain’s seat.

  “This thing is fucking miserable,” she protested when he tightened the belts another inch.

  “Nothing could be more miserable than losing you, sweetheart.”

  She stroked his cheek and stared into his eyes. “Then you’re wearing one too. I couldn’t go on living without you.”

  And just that plainly she voiced his greatest fear, but he was too choked up to tell her.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, unaware of his internal struggle. “I’ll go down and heat up your surprise lunch.”

  He licked his lips and smiled, fearing his internal struggle was about to shift to his digestive system. “Famished,” he said.

  Chapter Seven

  Jessica had to admit that her cabbage rolls had turned out a little scary. Well, more like horrifying. She’d followed the recipe’s confusing instructions and used almost all the right ingredients—she’d had to improvise on a few of the spices—but they looked more like cabbage blobs than rolls, and they smelled like a dirty jockstrap. She couldn’t ask Sed to eat them no matter how hard she’d tried to get them right. She’d wanted to surprise him by cooking something that would bring back fond memories of his charmed childhood. She couldn’t help but think he’d be surprised all right, but not pleasantly so.

  “Everything okay down there?” Sed asked from the captain’s seat where he was now steering the boat.

  When she’d come below deck to warm their lunch/slop, the first thing she’d done was take off that stifling life vest. Then she’d cleaned Sed’s cum off her belly and clit, thinking a tumble into the ocean would have been a small price to pay for that steamy encounter. Now she was steaming for a different reason. With frustration. Why had she thought making cabbage rolls would be a good idea? She should have waited until after their honeymoon to start learning to cook. Or started with something a little easier, such as cold cut sandwiches and bagged potato chips.