I grinned, and he matched my smile, reaching down to grab me by my ass.
“Oh, I didn’t know booty was on the table,” he whispered into my ear, and I felt shivers course through my body.
I’d never felt such pure need in my life. It didn’t feel like I was initiating sex with a stranger, it felt like puzzle pieces falling into their correct place after years of being stuck.
He kissed me, and I swear it felt as if a fire had set alight inside of me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, dragging him to the king-sized bed in the middle of the room. He stumbled along with me, making no effort to resist my pull.
I scooted back on the bed, and he watched me with hunger in his eyes. I reached down to unbutton my blouse, trying to make a sexy little show of it, but realizing I probably just looked drunk and clumsy. He didn’t seem to mind, however, all too eager to take over.
His fingers deftly worked my buttons, pulling each one free until I was able to shrug the garment off entirely. He fixed his eyes on the mounds of my breasts, and I smiled as I reached around my back to release them from the confines of my bra. He seemed to salivate at the sight of them, and I felt my face grow warm at the sheer hunger reflected in his eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, and I was certain my face was as red as a tomato at that point.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I purred, pressing him back against the bed. He didn’t seem like the type to let a woman take control, but I was surprised when he indulged me and lay flat on his back.
I shifted on top of him, leaning down to ghost my lips over his pulse. He shuddered at the contact, tangling a hand in my hair and encouraging the movements of my mouth. The salt of his sweat-soaked skin was all too tempting in my passion-fueled haze, and I traced my tongue down the column of his throat.
Then, I reached down between us, undoing the single button on his shorts and sliding them down. He raised his hips obligingly, and I looped my fingers in the waistband of his boxer briefs as I pulled, exposing him in one fell swoop.
His flesh was hot to the touch, precum trickling down from the head of his member. I wrapped my hand around his length, gauging his size. He was bigger than any other man I’d ever been with, and his girth swelled in my hand, his pulse throbbing against my palm.
“Ella,” he murmured, jerking his hips.
Unable to wait a moment longer, I slipped off my pants and panties, and ran to my suitcase to retrieve a condom—thankful that I kept one in there, just in case. Only a few seconds had passed before I resumed my position on top of him and slipped the condom over his length.
Before I could think to stop myself, I found myself shifting on top of him, pressing the head of his cock against my entrance. I steeled myself, knowing I was likely to be tighter than usual since it had been some time since my last…encounter. He rested his hands on my hips, gently guiding me down onto him.
“Slow, slow,” I stammered out, feeling his bulbous tip spread me wide. I drew my lip between my teeth, my breasts heaving.
“I just want you so badly,” my lover murmured, his eyes shining with something I hadn’t seen in any man I’d slept with before. Paul looked excited beyond the mere act of sex; he looked thrilled to be with me, specifically.
Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, I leaned in to press our lips together as I lowered myself further on his length. His breath hitched, and I dug my nails into his shoulders as he filled me up.
Just when I was certain that I couldn’t bear to take his entire length, our hips pressed flush together. His body trembled, and it was evident that it was taking all of his self-control not to slam into me.
“Oh, Paul,” I moaned against his lips, lifting my hips until I was nearly off of him entirely.
Slowly, tortuously, I shifted down again, enjoying the feel of his throbbing cock brushing against my inner walls. I clenched experimentally around him, and he cried out desperately.
“Ella! Please, can I…” He trailed off, moving as if to shift our positions.
I hesitated for the briefest of moments before allowing him to press me back against the sheets. He was still inside me, and the movement sent jolts of pleasure through all of my nerve endings.
“Guess you can only let me take charge for so long,” I teased breathlessly, and he quirked his lips in a smile.
“It wouldn’t be right for my little bird to be doing all of the work.” Paul grinned. “Is this okay?” he added, and my heart clenched. No man had ever asked if I was enjoying myself before. I was just part of their pleasure, it had never mattered if I’d gotten off.
“You feel amazing. God, Paul…just take me,” I breathed.
He seemed to need no further instruction, moving in and out of me slowly at first, before quickly picking up the pace. His hips slapped against mine with almost bruising force, and I couldn’t swallow the moans that spilled past my lips.
I dragged my nails down his back, reaching my peak more quickly than I ever had before. Paul seemed to be holding out well enough, but as I contracted around him, waves of ecstasy crashing all around me, he fell into an orgasm of his own. We held each other for a minute, feeling our bodies release together in time, panting and gasping.
For a long moment, we simply basked in the afterglow. But I knew my mother would be checking in on me in the morning, and the last thing I wanted her to see was me curled up with a tattooed circus performer. I looked at him, not wanting to ask him to go, but feeling as if I had no other choice.
He seemed to take the cue, shifting out of bed and grabbing his shorts, hesitating a moment before leaning in to capture my lips in a kiss. It was chaste, a simple press of skin on skin, but it meant more than a much deeper kiss could have at that moment.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, birdie,” he said warmly.
“It’s a date,” I told him.
I smiled, watching as he moved towards the door, slipping through it silently.
Left alone, I was tired and spent. I thought I should likely feel some measure of regret for what had happened, but I simply couldn’t make myself care. The time I’d spent with Paul was the freest I’d ever felt in my life. It was a glimpse into a life I wasn’t slated for, but could find a way of grasping if I worked hard enough for it. He was the opposite of the sort of man my mother would set me up with, but perhaps that’s what made him so appealing.
All the same, I had never felt such a pleasant ache after screwing around with a guy.
Except…it didn’t just feel like screwing around. It felt more like making love.
I didn’t want to overthink it, though. Instead of changing my sheets or taking a shower, I simply wiped myself down with the sheet before tossing it off the bed. I drew the remaining comforter over myself, allowing myself to drift into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
Chapter Eight
Ella
I awoke early the next morning, begrudgingly realizing that I probably owed my mother an apology. While I felt justified in my position, and planned to hold my ground, I still felt bad for humiliating her in front of her employees. Granted, she had done a fair bit of humiliating herself, but I knew my mother wasn’t one for apologies. She was lucky that my time with Paul had put me in a generous mood, that’s for sure.
My heart gave a small pang at the thought of the man, and I cursed myself internally. I wasn’t the type to go falling for any guy I slept with, but there was something about Paul. A therapist would likely say that the handsome man represented something I wanted, but did not have: freedom. I couldn’t argue that thought, but damn, his body was enough to drive any sane woman wild. I liked to think of myself as a rational thinker, but every woman had her breaking point. Mine just happen to lie at the juncture of Paul’s thighs.
Forcing myself to shake off these thoughts, I dragged myself out of bed and got dressed for the day. In spite of my desire to lounge around in a T-shirt and sweats (wasn’t the point of a cruise to relax?), I knew my mother would have a fit if I wasn’t dresse
d to the nines. I could picture her unwelcome commentary already: ‘You must always dress to impress, Ella. What if you meet your future husband while you’re dressed like a vagrant?’
At the very least, I could admit that I wouldn’t want Paul to see me dressed like that, but considering we’d already bared ourselves to each other, was that really something to worry about? I could likely dress in a sack, and he wouldn’t care, as long as there was a chance of getting me out of it.
All the same, I had an apology to present, and it would do little good if I started off on the wrong foot with my mother. I dressed in a bright blue sundress, slipping on a pair of wedge heels, and tying my hair up in a loose ponytail to keep cool. I applied a dab of makeup, and while my mother was never a fan of the natural look, she would just have to compromise with me on that issue. If it seemed as if there were very few things that my mother and I agreed on, that’s because it was true.
Perhaps it was an overdue rebellious streak from following her direction my entire life, but I felt almost juvenile sometimes. My mother compared me to an angst-filled teenager, and I had a sinking feeling that Paul might, too. He had seemed sympathetic regarding how I felt, though, which was pretty much unheard of in the Beck household. I had to constantly remind myself that not everyone was as strict and demanding as my mother.
I would have obliged my mother’s makeup ideals, but I didn’t want to look like a clown for the circus act she’d hired for entertainment on board the ship. There was also a chance I’d see Paul again, and I’d rethought my position of letting myself go before we even went on a real date. My body may have been exquisite, but a man wanted a woman to look nice for him.
That much I knew to be universally true, even in the erotic…sorry, romantic novels I read.
I shook my head, considering my reflection in the mirror for a long moment. While I liked the face that stared back at me, I wasn’t entirely thrilled by the fact that I would have to force it into an insincere smile all morning.
I checked the clock, noting that breakfast would be over in half an hour. Knowing that my mother usually had her breakfast rather late, there was a chance I’d catch her in the dining area. All the better, a crowd of people to watch me sniveling. I rolled my eyes at my own negativity, yanking the door to my room open and stalking outside.
Taking a moment to calm my nerves, I turned my stalking into delicate, graceful steps in the direction of the dining area. My stomach was churning with anxiety, but I couldn’t have expected any less. It wasn’t one of those scenarios where one could simply get in and get out; if I met my mother for breakfast, she would expect me to join her for the morning. God only knew when she would willingly free me from her talons.
I was in the midst of deciding whether or not I would approach her later on instead when I stepped into the dining room and immediately laid eyes upon her.
Martha Beck was wearing her large, dark, hangover sunglasses, and I could only chuckle at the fact that even the low light of the dining area was likely sending shooting pains through her skull. I tried to swallow my mirth, attempting to be the picture of sympathy as I approached. She was pushing a pile of eggs around on her plate, making a vaguely disgusted face in spite of how appetizing all the food had been thus far. She didn’t look up as I approached, only tilting her head slightly as I sat down.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she mumbled.
I swallowed a sharp retort, smiling and reaching out to grab her hand. She looked taken aback, at least from what I could see of her face.
“Here to humiliate me even further? Honestly, Ella, you’d think I abuse you or some nonsense like that,” my mother continued, and I couldn’t help the slight roll of my eyes. She was always so dramatic, but…perhaps she had a point.
Maybe I was blowing all of this out of proportion. I could take comfort in the fact that my mother loved me, I was certain of that much. She had an odd way of showing it, but there were so many people who had parents a thousand times worse.
Squeezing her hand, I felt a small surge of affection. She just wanted a good life for me. I was being melodramatic. I couldn’t back down, however. No matter what she wanted for me, I wanted my freedom—the freedom to pursue my hopes and wildest dreams.
I knew it would be hard for her to understand, but perhaps if I buttered her up with a proper apology first, she would give me a break. Yeah, maybe in another lifetime.
I parted my lips to speak, but before I could get the words out, she lowered her sunglasses to look me in the eye. Her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, and I could only wonder just how much more she’d had to drink after I left the party.
“I hope you’ve gotten those trivial thoughts out of your head,” she said bitterly, sliding her sunglasses back up and focusing on her food.
She took a bite of eggs, looking vaguely ill as she swallowed. I won’t lie and say I took no pleasure in her pain; I was furious at how cold and callous she was being. It was enough to make me second guess my apology, but I was in too deep to back out now.
“Well, Mom, I actually came down here to apologize. It was wrong of me to embarrass you in front of your employees like that, and…” I paused, my eyes widening as my fire-breathing Prince Charming stepped into the room.
His eyes fell on me immediately, and he quirked his lips in a wry smile. I tried to avert my eyes, feeling my cheeks alight in a blush, just as my mother looked in his direction, grumbling under her breath.
“I swear, they could have gotten decent and well-dressed gentlemen to perform. I expected refinement, not carnies,” she huffed.
Just as I was about to launch into an ill-advised tirade defending Paul’s honor, the man of my dreams approached the table. He held several dozen pamphlets in his hand, smiling charmingly at my mother and me. He placed one of the flyers on the table, and I noted it was an advertisement for the circus act he was scheduled to perform in.
“Hello, ladies. I hope you will be kind enough to join us for the performance this evening. It’s guaranteed to amaze and delight.” He paused, looking at me with a cheeky grin. “Miss Ella Beck, what a delight to see you again. I was hoping you might join me for the day, maybe help me work out some pre-performance jitters.”
My mother stiffened, looking ready to protest. I looked between the two, weighing my options. While the apology to my mother had gotten cut short, I couldn’t deny that I would much rather spend the day with the charming performer.
“Ella, I swear to God,” my mother muttered under her breath, and Paul looked at her with a warm smile.
“Oh, Martha, you have nothing to worry about. I’ll see that your little angel is well taken care of. What sort of man would I be if I did not?”
My mother looked like she was about to snap back a rude reply, but before she got the chance, I lurched to my feet and stepped towards Paul with a shy smile.
“I would love to join you, Mr. Drake. Mother, if you’ll excuse us,” I said calmly, reaching down to grip Paul’s hand in my own.
I swore I could see the smoke pluming from my mother’s ears, and I had to swallow a laugh as Paul led me away. He tossed the pile of pamphlets on an empty table, sweeping me into his arms as soon as we were out of my mother’s sight.
“She hates you already,” I whispered, cheeks hurting from how much I was smiling.
“And you love it,” Paul said decidedly, reaching down to pinch my behind.
I squealed, looking around to make sure no one was watching. Fortunately, we were alone in the hallway, and I had no need to resist my urge to kiss him firmly on the lips.
His lips parted immediately, his tongue darting out to meet my own. I moaned against his skin, the sensation sending a tingle between my thighs. He rested his hand on my ass, and it took all of my restraint not to reach between his thighs and grasp my ‘personal breaking point.’
He drew away, however, smiling cockily at me.
“Someone’s eager today. Did you miss me that much after our night together?”
he teased.
My face reddened, and I tried to sputter out a dignified response. Of course, there was nothing dignified about being so immediately smitten with a man I’d met and slept with in the course of a single day. His smile warmed, however, and he linked our arms together, guiding me further away from the dining area.
“So, what’s on the agenda today, Sir Drake?” I said with a grin, and he eagerly matched my expression.
“Oh, you know. A bit of this, a bit of that. A little mischief making. Maybe a dip in the pool,” he hummed.
Warmth blossomed in my chest at the utter ease I felt in his presence, and I knew that I was falling for him, all too soon. Who could blame me, though? He was gorgeous, and he actually liked me. Moreover, I actually liked him. Not just for his body, but for his free spirit and willingness to show me things that were entirely new to me.
“Paul, you’re going to turn me into a regular naughty girl,” I scolded teasingly.
He smiled at me, leaning in to capture my lips in yet another kiss. This one was softer, sweeter, and he drew away after a long, lingering moment.
“Not that I’m looking to change you, little bird, but it doesn’t seem to be a far stretch at this rate. You were born to be wild.”
I didn’t have an argument for that.
Chapter Nine
Paul
There was something about her hand in mine that just seemed to click. I’d done as much as possible to avoid turning into a pile of mush, but the way that little bird looked at me with those eyes filled with sheer adoration, there was little I could do to avoid falling deeper and deeper for her.
The line between Paul Drake and my true identity began to blur, and it was all I could do to tell myself that I’d come too far to blow it over some good sex. Except, simply calling it ‘good’ was the understatement of a lifetime, and I’d be lying if I told you the sex was all I held an interest in.
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