by Shay Violet
“You’ll get a lot more out of this experience if you open your eyes, Tyesha,” Ezra joked.
“Just breathe,” Dr. Ghazal added. “You’ll be fine. You’re very graceful. Just go with the rocking motion. Camels are the ships of the desert.”
Soon, we were all aboard our animals and riding slowly out onto the Giza Plateau.
“You have no idea what a big deal this is,” Ezra half-whispered to me at one point. “Thanks to Winston and a bit of pre-teen vandalism at the Sphinx, I couldn’t get near the pyramids for many years. It took some delicate negotiating and a few large donations to convince authorities that I wasn’t the problem. Winston is banned for life from setting foot in Egypt. I’m sure you’re surprised.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. I felt terrible for whoever he and his undoubtedly giant bank account and fleet of sports cars would con into marrying him one day.
The trip through the desert was serene, with just a light breeze, and seeing the desert and pyramids from atop camels, approaching alone, from the side we did, tiny figures in the vast desert, left me awestruck. Ezra’s constant encouragement was a godsend. “You’re doing great, Tyesha. You’re a modern-day Cleopatra up there.”
The tour was fascinating, and Dr. Ghazal obviously had the heart of a teacher. To see someone so passionate in the heart of his world was as inspiring as his guidance through the dusty chambers was illuminating.
It made me think of my future, of chasing my dreams and immersing myself in what I felt called to do.
When we finished the tour and emerged back outside, it was getting dark, and the temperature had fallen. I wondered about making it back to our hotel on our camels.
Dr. Ghazal led us on a short walk to an area with several tents surrounded by torches. As we approached, I could smell something delicious cooking.
“Dinner under the stars,” Dr. Ghazal announced.
“Next to the Great Pyramid,” Ezra added with a wink.
“Wow,” was all I could muster. We sat around a low table covered with an Egyptian feast–pita bread, hummus, a platter of pickled vegetables called “torshi” and for the main course, a rich lamb, okra, and tomato stew called “bamia.” It was delicious, seasoned with onions, garlic and spices I didn’t recognize. We drank tea, and for dessert we ate a pastry dish called “feteer meshaltet” which we dipped in honey.
By the end, we were all stuffed and lay under the stars laughing and exchanging stories.
Ezra wound up lying near me and more than once our hands brushed against each other. I can’t testify as to what he felt, but for me, each touch left me wanting more.
I’d looked at him differently since that fateful night in London, and I feared I was falling for him, even as I repeatedly noticed his eyes lingering on me in a way they never had before.
We slept in separate tents for men and women; I shared one with a local woman who had prepared our food, and in the morning, we returned to our hotel on the backs of our “ships of the desert.”
Another day and a half of business followed, and when we boarded the Brannigan corporate jet, I assumed we were returning to Dallas.
Instead, the pilot came over the intercom and announced “Our flight time today will be six hours and twelve minutes to Velana International Airport on the island of Hulehule in the Maldives.
Ezra must have thought I looked confused. “You’re right. No oil in the Maldives. But they have beautiful beaches there. I could do with some downtime, couldn’t you? It’ll just be a day or so.”
“Sure,” I replied. “But I’m sure the Maldives is a Muslim country. Aren’t you worried they’ll have a problem with an unmarried man and woman traveling together? And besides that, I haven’t packed a thing to wear on the beach.”
“Same answer for both questions,” Ezra said with a grin. “Private island.”
I cocked my head, and he held up his head in surrender. “We’ll do some shopping in Male. You can get a few bathing suits, if you insist.”
“I insist,” I said with a smile.
Inside, I wasn’t so sure I did.
Being naked in a tropical paradise with Ezra Brannigan didn’t sound so bad at all.
The plane lifted off, and I took a deep breath.
Some big moments in your life you never see coming. This, however, felt like the culmination of something that had been building. Something that might mark the passage of time in my life. “Before the Maldives and After the Maldives.”
My future was out there somewhere in an Ocean I’d never dipped a toe in.
7
I’d never seen a more beautiful place than the Maldives. It was like living inside a computer screensaver. It was dizzying. Nothing around me seemed real.
Ezra and I had dinner out on the beach that first night. I’d gone shopping in Male where I’d bought five bikinis and numerous sundresses. I couldn’t get over how hot it was here when it was winter back home.
We’d had a five-course meal followed by numerous glasses of wine. Somewhere one of the staff had turned music on. I didn’t know where the speakers were, but the sounds of “The Girl From Ipanema” filled the humid air around us, and Ezra asked me to dance.
Our bodies were close, and I tried to remember to be professional.
But it was impossible.
He didn’t make it easy on me either. Especially when our eyes met as the song ended.
“Let’s go for a swim,” he said.
I immediately pulled the dress I was wearing over my head.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” I laughed at the look on his face. “I wore this underneath, just in case.”
He pulled me close to him, nothing separating us now but a very thin, white string bikini.
And he kissed me.
* * *
Maybe it was the tropical heat. Or the close proximity to each other without anyone around.
The sexual tension between us had been building for years if I was being honest with myself. And now I realized all those times I thought I’d been mistaken when I’d caught him glancing at the various curves of my body — I had been right.
Ezra Brannigan had wanted me all along.
Now here we were in a $20,000 a night villa practically on top of the equator. We had an entire island to ourselves. (Well, other than his security detail.) The heat of the island and the heat between us could no longer be denied.
After he kissed me I hadn’t known where to look. He’d helped me with that too, pushing my chin upward with his hand so I had to look straight into his eyes.
“I need to fuck you,” he said, as matter-of-factly as if he’d just asked me to bring him a cappuccino. “I’ve needed to fuck you for so long.”
He wasn’t trying to hide how he felt now. His eyes ogled me in my string bikini, the one I’d worn purposely to tempt him. My breasts strained against the material and I could feel my nipples hardening when I heard him say he wanted to fuck me.
I didn’t know what to say back to him, so I put my hands against his muscled chest, the one I’d dreamt about for years, the one I’d pictured above me in my dreams as I’d fantasized what it would like for him to be inside of me.
“So, what are you waiting for?” I asked in a voice I didn’t recognize as my own.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said as he suddenly lifted me up into his arms — a forearm under my shaking knees and the other supporting my back, making me cry out in surprise.
I felt defenseless. He was incredibly strong.
He carried me into the bedroom that I’d assumed would belong only to him, my own room across the villa. His bed was king-sized with high thread count sheets that felt amazing against my mostly naked body as he laid me down on them, already pulling his own swim trunks off, his eyes never leaving mine.
He was naked now and I couldn’t help but gasp in delight at the size of his cock which stood stiff and throbbed against his taut abdomen. He stroked it obscenely, licking his lips as I squirmed on the bed.
I was so aroused I didn’t know what to do with myself.
“First, I taste you,” he commanded as he untied the sides of my bikini bottoms, pulling them off with one quick motion, leaving my body bare before him. His eyes widened at the sight of me, a sight no man had seen in a very long time.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he growled. I sat up to kiss him, my hands on his face. The feel of his stubble under my soft hands made me so wet.
I’d wanted to touch that square jaw for so long and now here it was.
He untied the back of my bikini and threw it to the floor.
We were both completely exposed now.
I spread my legs for him, expecting to feel him inside me, but no. He really did want to taste me first, and the feel of his warm tongue on my clit had me arching my back immediately, crying out in both pain and pleasure.
“Baby, you’re so sensitive,” he smirked from between my thighs. “And you taste so fucking good. Maybe I’ll just eat your pussy all night.”
I moaned at the thought.
My boss, Ezra Brannigan, was eating my pussy. Right now.
This was not a dream.
This was my reality.
I came so hard that first time that I literally believed I saw stars. I keened and whimpered like I was a concubine and he’d just paid top dollar to taste me.
Which he kind of had.
The dirtiness of that thought got me extra wet again.
“Please,” I begged him as I pulled on my own nipples. “More, Mr. Brannigan. I need more.”
He went in again, his own groans of pleasure turning me on. I’d never been devoured like this in my entire life. I felt like I was in sexual heaven, but I was the one being worshipped.
I have no idea how long we went for like that. I would clutch the sheets as each orgasm rolled through me, begging him for another.
Finally though, Mr. Brannigan needed something else.
“As good as you taste,” he said sitting up now. “I need to fuck you, Tyesha. And this is the part where you might beg me to stop. I want to fuck this pussy all night, baby. Especially when you call me Mr. Brannigan. Baby, it turns me on so much.”
“Please fuck me,” I begged him now, lifting my arms above my head so he could notice my large breasts and my rock hard, darkened nipples. “I’ll call you anything you want. Just please fuck my brains out.”
Two things happened at once. He was immediately inside me, stretching me out with his girth, making me scream out. And his mouth was on my right nipple, sucking it hard, his other arm holding down my limbs, binding my wrists together with his very large, strong hand.
He was slow at first, going in and out of me with gentle care, pausing from my nipple to moan out how good I felt.
“You’re so tight, baby,” he said, his eyes on mine now. “You feel even better than I imagined you would.”
“How long have you been thinking about this?” I asked, barely able to get the sentence out before I came — so hard I was shaking.
“Since the day I fucking met you,” he growled as he started pounding me harder. “Fuck, you are so fucking hot!”
I screamed, a primal yell, both in pain and incredible ecstasy. He was splitting me open and his fingers dug into the flesh of my curved hips, using my body as leverage to fuck harder, faster.
He was incredibly strong, and I was helpless beneath him. Even if I’d wanted him to stop (I didn’t. Never.) I don’t think he would have. He was like a barbaric caveman in desperate heat, and eager to claim my body as his and his alone.
I was sure he would come. He kept moaning and yelling, “FUCK”, his cock like a piston as it continued to violate my pussy.
But no. Mr. Brannigan wasn’t ready to release yet. It was as if he needed to have me in every single position his filthy mind could come up with before that happened.
Like he was making up for lost time.
After fucking me missionary style, he flipped me over, yanking my ass toward him so it was lewdly in the air.
“Oh, holy hell, Tyesha,” he said, his hands running up and down my back and then stopping at my ass cheeks, kneading them with his hands. “This ass is a fucking dream. I’ve imagined having you this way for fucking years. You do not disappoint. Baby, you were built for sex. I’ve never seen something so beautiful in all my life.”
I looked over my shoulder, biting my bottom lip. I’d never felt so empowered and so desired. It made me so horny that I was sure my arousal had to be dripping on the sheets.
“Mr. Brannigan,” I whispered. “This ass is yours if you want it. So, take it, baby. Show me how much you mean it.”
He startled me with what he did next.
He gently pulled me by my hair so that I was up on my knees now instead of all fours. I sighed against him, my ass against his rock-hard cock, my back against his chest. The softness of my skin against his roughness was so incredibly sexy.
I held my arms up and wrapped them around his neck, leaning back so he could see down my body.
I felt his hands brush against my nipples that were so painfully stiff that I cried out at his touch. Then he slowly ran his hands past my breasts and down my abdomen. His hand cupped my sex, and I moaned.
“Your pussy is so wet, Tyesha,” he whispered in my ear and I moaned again, the heat of his breath making me want him again — and forever.
“Touch me,” I begged. “Please. Ezra…”
He took his index finger and slowly made circles around my clit, flicking it randomly until I was almost in tears I wanted to come so badly.
Finally, he rubbed it again, this time with three larger fingers and I came so fast and so hard that I didn’t even know what to do with myself.
That was okay because Mr. Brannigan knew.
He pushed me down on all fours again and I clutched the sheets as he spread my thighs and ass open, so he could fuck me again, but from behind.
“Damn. Fuck me,” he groaned. “Nothing has ever felt so good in my entire life. Baby, I’m gonna think of this pussy on my deathbed. It’s so sweet.”
He fucked me hard again, his hands clutching my hips, the sound of my ass bouncing against his cock the only thing either of us could hear as he took me again, paying no mind to being gentle.
This was a man marking his territory.
I was his whore, and I didn’t mind it. I was there to do whatever he needed me to do. I would have done anything to make him feel good.
I’d lived my life the last five years to please him, and this was what I’d wanted all along.
“I have to come,” he said, and I cried out, so sore from his love and his body. The thought of his cum being inside of me felt like a dream come true.
“But I need to see your face,” he said.
He flipped me on my back again and I opened my legs for him as he balanced himself above me.
His face was different now. The intensity was gone, replaced by something softer.
“I’ve thought about this for so long,” he whispered as he entered me again. “Have you?”
I nodded. “Yes. More than you could ever fathom.”
He smiled and then he leaned down to kiss me, a long kiss, one with passion and fire. It told me so much, even more than the sex could.
We had switched to something new now. We weren’t fucking anymore — he’d gotten that out of his system.
We made love, for a long time. We’d stop and start, staring at each other in disbelief between my orgasms. He’d coax them out of me and seemed so pleased each time, more intent on my pleasure than on his.
“You’re so beautiful,” he would say. Over and over again.
We’d switch positions again, me on top looking down at him as he stared at me in awe, his hands running up and down my torso as I rode his dick, never wanting this night to be over.
At the end, I was on my back again. He was inside me, but I could tell he was ready to have his own finale. And I wanted to give him that.
I wanted to be the best
pussy he ever had.
His thrusting picked up again and his expression changed to one of intense concentration. Suddenly he was pounding me so hard that the bed crashed against the wall and I struggled to take his rage and fury as he punished my body for making him feel so good.
When he came it felt like time stopped. He stared at me in wonder as I felt his fluid and love fill me, and there was so much of it.
“Yes, baby,” I said to him as he shuddered. “Give me all of your cum.”
When he’d finally emptied himself into me, he took one long last look at me and before collapsing on the bed next to me, said three little words.
“I love you.”
I wasn’t sure if I’d heard him right. Was it possible?
“Tyesha, I love you so much,” he said. “I always have.”
And with that, I knew there was no going back.
Everything, from that moment on, would be forever different.
8
I woke up the next morning positive that it had all been a dream.
But I was naked and wrapped in expensive sheets on a king-sized bed that faced the most beautiful beach I’d ever seen or would probably ever see again.
It hadn’t been a dream after all.
A very nude Ezra Brannigan was standing outside on the veranda drinking a cup of coffee. His back was to me and his ass looked amazing.
My thighs ached from the night before and part of me wanted to drag him back into bed and do it all over again.
The other part of me was terrified.
Of course, it had been a beautiful night — one of the best of my life.
But it was a new day. What happened now?
“Good morning, Tyesha.”
While I’d been thinking, he’d noticed I was awake. He sauntered over to me, placing his mug on the nightstand next to the bed, and then crawled under the sheets with me, wrapping his arms around my still very naked body.
“Good morning,” I said. “How long have you been up?”
“Just about half an hour,” Ezra replied, his hands sliding down my side, making goosebumps rise on my skin. “I got you coffee. And the chef is making us breakfast as we speak. I told him you like omelets. Ham and cheese?”
