by Nikki Winter
She bit the inside of her cheek. “Why?” Lifting her hands, she asked again, “Why?”
He dropped his arms and said, “Are you answering my prayer or not?”
God, he was an idiot. Yet, she loved him. Could do nothing else. Because—and she wouldn’t admit this out loud unless under duress—he was an amazing idiot. With an eye roll and a sigh that she made sure was put upon, Nyssa stood and lagged over to the food. Before she could touch it, Sansone decided to make himself her chair.
“I’d like to sit on actual furniture,” she muttered.
Her husband flexed his thighs beneath her. “No harder wood on earth, cara.”
She swallowed the snort threatening to break free. When she had it under control, she twisted in his lap to face him. “I’m sorry.” Urgh. That tasted yucky. Like ground pride with a pinch of humility.
He jerked back from her liked she’d pulled her face off just to reveal Rodney Dangerfield underneath. “What was that?”
Bastard was going to make her say it again. Gah.
“I’m. Sorry,” Nyssa repeated for a second time, watching his eyes widen. “I don’t mean to be in your way. I just have no idea how to get out of it.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, Sunny. Just…give me a moment to figure it out, all right?”
His suspicion lasted half a minute longer before he nodded. “All right. In the meantime…breakfast and a hand job?”
She sighed. He always ruined it.
***
“I do not think that this is appropriate whale watching behavior, Sansone Carmine Sultana.”
Sansone placed a palm to the nape of Nyssa’s neck and pushed her back into her previous position of being bent over in front of the small sink of a bathroom that he’d dragged her into.
“Don’t care,” he bit out.
It was her fault. It would always be her fault. Flaunting around in shorts that were better suited for a Maxim shoot, torn in too appealing places. It hadn’t even been placed with anything provocative. Just a white and plum baseball tee that she’d tucked into the high waist band and paired with sensible Nikes. A gold bracelet jingled around one delicate ankle in time with her steps. He’d been stalking her with his gaze for hours now, attentive to every motion since they’d left the bungalow hand in hand this afternoon.
He wasn’t sure what it was exactly that made him nurse the fantasy of crossing her on a college campus at a younger age, in those same shorts; slyly watching her walk away from him after she turned down an invite to some little coffee shop around the corner. He then thought about how he would have put himself in her path everyday; always polite, never pushy, to ask her the same question. And because she was difficult, she would have told him no again and again until she caved. Finally, when he had her all to himself, at a table far from prying eyes, he would have teased the insides of her thighs with his fingertips, waiting for them to fall open and she would have been his…
Perhaps it was the way her skin glowed under the sun or how she’d wrapped her twists into two huge, playful buns on either side of her head. It gave him a glimpse of senior year Nyssa, one that he would have loved to debauch on every occasion given to him. Much like he intended to do now after having to endure the sight of her traipsing around. Her thick, golden brown thighs had stolen every ounce of sense he had. She knew what she was doing. Had to. His dick hadn’t gone down since she’d bent over the railing of the boat to get a better shot of a humpback calf and its mother. The speed and grace that they used to shoot by should have held all of his scrutiny. It didn’t.
She was lucky that they’d returned to the reef where the tour center was located. Otherwise this would have made for an embarrassing moment on the boat. The second they were free of the crowd, he’d curled his fingers around hers and half carried her off down a hall towards the nearest private room—which was a bathroom. Probably not the best choice…or the classiest…but they had a goddamn license. Which meant they could do what they wanted without the judgment of God following. As far as he was concerned that was the only one that really counted anyway.
Nyssa placed her palms to the sink and tried to stand upright again.
Sansone delivered a slap to one half of her ass—the kind that he’d been withholding this morning. “Stay.”
She looked up into the mirror to glare at him. “Sunny…”
Another slap. “Silenzioso.”
Her teeth flashed as they cinched down on the bottom rim of her luscious mouth.
He curved his free hand around her belly and stopped at the fastening of buttons hiding her away. Three flicks and they came undone. He hooked his finger into a belt loop and peeled them down her legs. They hit her ankles, clicked against the floor and jostled the bracelet. Boy shorts with adorable sea turtles forming a heart on her behind greeted him and he ran his palm over them. His thumb swiped down the separation of her cheeks, following the curve until it rested at the seat of her panties. Nyssa mewled at the contact, then moaned as he massaged her pussy through the fabric, feeling the crotch dampen more as he rubbed her.
Crouching, he tugged them to the side revealing the hard pearl of her clit as it puffed out from the now sticky lips of her sex, pleading for attention. The scent of her combined with the cream glistening against her flesh made his scrotum contract in need. He eased his thumb through her labia and came away with enough to taste.
“I think this is what you wanted to tempt me into, cara. Bending you over publicly and licking your pussy.”
There was a low hiss of sound from her as her spine dipped low and she went up on the balls of her feet. The request was wordless and he preferred it otherwise.
“Ask,” Sansone murmured against the back of her thigh, biting lightly. “Ask me to lick your pussy.”
Nyssa’s voice was husky and wanton. “Sansone…”
“Ask me nicely and I’ll do it. I know that’s what you want, to come in my mouth.”
She shuddered and whispered something unintelligible.
“Unh-unh,” he grunted, biting her other thigh. “Louder. So I can hear you.”
This time it came out between clenched teeth when she said, “Please lick my pussy, Sansone.”
That was all he needed. With a growl, he grappled for her hips and pulled them back further. He buried his face where he’d imagined it residing most of the day. Fuck if the flavor of her wasn’t better than any foreign delight this island had to offer. His palms filled with the generous globes of her ass, gripping tightly as he shoved his tongue into her. Her hips swayed and his cock jumped, seeking attention. He didn’t have the willpower to pull away from touching her to stroke himself.
Her breaths quickened with the lap of his tongue and he swirled it around her clit, sucking at the bud until a low, hoarse cry filtered through the air.
“Sunny…”
He pulled her panties further over and rimmed her. The slap of her hand meeting porcelain made his eyes cross. A curse left her next and he refocused his attention on eating her. The second he snaked a hand up her torso to pinch a nipple at the same time he sucked her nubbin back into his mouth, she squealed and jerked, sending him to swallow every drop of honey that welled and overflowed from her center.
Her breathing slowed and he stood, painfully aware of his dick trying to make a break for it from behind his canvas shorts. He winced, realizing that it would take a while for this particular hard on to disappear. Especially with her still sprawled over the sink, a vision of wet dreams to come—no pun intended.
Nyssa righted herself after a moment, turning to face him. Her shorts remained where they were; her eyes were wide and glazed. She looked him over and stopped at his erection. “Is that a porpoise in your pocket or are you happy to see me?”
Sansone snorted and leaned against the sea blue wall as he balled his hands at his sides. “What, exactly, do you think?”
She reached forward, and before he could think to stop her, unzipped him. His dick might as well have shouted
“Hi-yah!” for all the power it used to come bursting out.
“I think that God may have gotten you confused with a donkey when he made the placement of sexual organs,” she answered.
He opened his mouth.
Nyssa’s hand wrapped around his length through his briefs. “Do not. Just take the compliment in silence.”
At the very least, allowing himself to smirk couldn’t hurt. “You may want to tuck that back where you found it.”
She shook her head. “No, my idea is far better.”
He watched through hooded eyes as she released him, only to delve her hand into her own underwear. Sansone’s nostrils flared at the sight and his next exhale was slow. Her hand reappeared, covered in her come. It then disappeared into his underwear, grasping him skin-to-skin, warm with her juices. His shoulders came up and slammed back into the wall. “Cara.”
“Hush,” she voiced, unleashing him. Her hand caressed heedless of the consequences and he stood there in a partial stupor. Nyssa’s thumb circled the head lazily and she bent at the waist to follow the pattern with her tongue. He closed his eyes to the sight, knowing that watching would lead to him shooting his load without warning. The last time that happened, he’d been forced to learn his wife’s hair care regimen before practicing it several times.
She stood to her full height and tipped up to take his mouth, her hand moving faster against his cock. There was something about the way Nyssa kissed when libido clouded reason. It was lusty and full and filthy. He loved every moment of it.
She pulled her lips away to find his shoulder and locked down right where he liked with her teeth. Her hand twisted slightly and pulled his sex towards hers. She ran it through her pussy lips and being that close to her heat was enough to make him spill himself with a groan. Nyssa murmured contentedly when he stopped pulsing in her palm and pressed another kiss to his mouth that made him stir again.
Releasing him, she reached for a paper towel and ran it under hot water before handing it to him. She created another wipe for herself and they went about making themselves presentable again without a word. There were naughty grins exchanged as they snuck out of the bathroom and trotted down the hall. Sansone’s hands played with whatever he could reach and she batted him away laughingly. As they left, he suddenly had the thought that Nyssa still hadn’t begged, but she’d given him satisfaction without any alternative motive in her touch. They were getting somewhere.
Seven
“Yo, Sultana, up for a swim?”
Nyssa watched her husband’s gaze drift slowly away from the book in his hands, only to narrow on her from where he sat stretched out beneath the canopy of their bed. “It’s midnight.”
She lifted her hands from the pockets of her robe. “And?”
“And I’m fairly certain there are a bevy of safety regulations against—oh.” His book suddenly forgotten as it tumbled onto the floor, he blinked at where her robe had landed after she’d slid it from her shoulders. Its departure came with no more than a whisper as the fabric settled around her ankles. “Oh my.”
Grinning now, she backed slowly away—naked as the day she was born—and headed for the deck. A chuckle came next as she turned to run, only to be caught in the band of strong arms and lifted from her feet. Her husband charged headlong from the room and towards the deck. Nyssa screamed the moment he dived over without releasing her. The water rushed up and then she was weightless.
A few kicks saw her head above the gentle waves, meeting the wide smile of Sansone from where he floated on his back. She barked out another laugh. “If we tied a cloth napkin to that, I think we could set sail and make it back to Tahiti without a problem or ferry costs.”
His answer was a splash aimed at her face. She ducked around it easily, turning over so she could follow his lazy pace. Closing her eyes to the moon, Nyssa allowed herself a moment to drift out of reach. She was going to miss this. The calmness she’d discovered here; a thing that she hadn’t even known she was in need of until Sansone made it so. He’d known. It didn’t matter the origin of the idea. He could have paid it absolute dust and continued on. Instead he’d made the effort to misplace her discomforts and doubts in paradise. For that, she loved him more than words could express.
Nyssa wasn’t self-ignorant. She knew she was a control freak of the highest order. She could be difficult and reclusive. She could bury her issues, impatiently waiting for the day that they finally resurfaced. And yet, he’d snatched the reins from her—despite her desire to withhold them—and forced her into this incredible bubble of joy that she couldn’t shake. The lack of worry from the outside world, it helped. It simply, honestly helped. Here, she didn’t consider timetables or ovulation cycles.
The fact that he’d requested a ban on all things baby had stung initially. Then she’d slowly come to the realization as to why. Just as he’d so wonderfully pointed out a few mornings ago, she thought too goddamn much. About everything and nothing at all. That was what had landed them in an eight-year friendship to begin with. Nyssa couldn’t get her head out of her own ass. It had seemed to be an entirely too comfortable place to rest it. As opposed to blurting out what she felt and letting the chips fall, she’d hidden away, only to come forward in a subconscious move that required liquid courage. All of this was a result of her aversion to being open with her best friend.
The same best friend that had taken her on incredible adventures over the last few days. After whale watching there had been paddle boarding on the lagoon—completed with a picnic on the beach that ended in extremely inappropriate behavior, almost getting them fined. Following the next day was an ATV race where a wager had been made on some pretty filthy promises. The fun continued with a trip to Belvedere Lookout where Nyssa had found herself in the backseat of their mid-sized sedan of a rental, straddling Sansone while he rocked her into a shuddering orgasm. That was frustrating considering how he still refused to give in and enter her.
She’d felt like a teenage virgin again; a rocket of repressed sexual needs that couldn’t be met. A Tiki village dinner and dance show led to one too many drinks—which led to Nyssa on stage in a grass skirt with several others. Apparently with enough cocktails she had no problem following tribal drumming while her spouse whistled from the crowd and occasionally yelled, “Come back to my bungalow with me! My wife’s into that!” To this she replied, “Will I be paid properly? To be honest, I haven’t done a couple in a while and I’m a bit rusty.”
They really were absolutely insane. She adored that about them. The comfort in being as ridiculous as she desired without an ounce of judgment from her nut of a husband. Hence her inspiration to skinny dip at a crazy hour. She’d grown restless with her own book before deciding that yes, she could enjoy something else senselessly pleasing. The last few days had been filled to the brim with nothing but every silly activity they could complete and she’d never been happier. It felt so good to just be. Sadly, she understood that inevitably they’d have to leave their utopia to return to the mental pressure of everything they’d left behind. Including the elephant that they hadn’t packed up to bring.
Fingertips lightly skated over her ribcage and she opened her lids to find Sansone hovering by, diamonds spattered over his lashes and in his hair. “Hi.”
Nyssa’s lips curved and she righted herself so that her feet touched the sand beneath them. “Hi.”
He caught a thicket of her soaked twists to toss them over her shoulder. “Want to tell me why you’ve suddenly gone Garden of Eden? My complaints are nonexistent, mind you, mostly because I get to nourish this very interesting daydream of you rescuing me from a shipwreck wearing nothing but a string of pearls and a tail that disappears when you’re aroused.”
She released a sigh and brushed her hand against the short length of his beard. “Have I told you today that you’re a strange, strange man?”
He rocked his head from side to side. “Meh…once or twice.”
“Well consider this the third.”
&nb
sp; “Are you saying that you wouldn’t be willing to look for a ginger colored wig to wear for just a few—”
“No,” she cut in, looking beyond his shoulder when his lips curved downward. “But only because I don’t think ginger is my particular hair ministry. I would, however, be open to a lovely ash blond.”
He lifted her by the waist, nudging her knees to either side of his hips as he walked them towards the deck. “The world would be such a wondrous place if everyone had a wife made in your likeness.”
Nyssa snorted, throwing her arms around his shoulders when he began to climb the ladder. “Would it?”
Sansone stopped at the top and quirked a brow down at her. “You dare doubt my heartfelt terms of endearment?”
Her lips curved wanly and she focused on the hollow of his throat. “Just a week ago you were ready to cattle prod me.”
With a grimace, he pulled them up and out onto the deck, water dripping onto the hardwood. “Cara—”
“You would have been well within your rights to,” Nyssa interrupted, staring him in the eye. “I got a bit…enthusiastic.”
His hand curled around her hip. “I’m an incredible specimen, of course you’re interested in seeing my legacy continue.”
She didn’t laugh. “I’m serious, Sansone. It’s never, ever, been about my lack of faith in you or my doubt that you’d love me whether we had one child or filled the earth with them.”
“Normally I would ask you to call me Father Abraham after a statement such as that but I sense you’re attempting to tell me something,” he responded, sitting down on a lounger.
“I trust you,” Nyssa confessed, her hands on his face. “You’re my best friend, my potty-mouthed knight with the incredible sense of comedic timing that I attribute to your relationship with the devil.”
“Hey!”
