Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
She rocks against me, fucking me slowly. “Ah, yes. It’s so fucking good.”
I stare at her face, watching her eyelids flutter shut as she ups her pace.
My hips start to move. Small waves crash against our legs as we fuck each other.
“Delia,” I whisper her name even though I don’t want this moment to end. I’m so fucking close to coming already. So goddamn close to blowing my load inside of her. “Delia.”
Our eyes meet and realization hits her immediately. “No condom.”
I nod. “No condom.”
“I’m on the pill,” she reminds me as she pulls back slightly. “I’m clean.”
“Me too,” I tell her as I stare into her eyes. “Tell me to stop if it’s what you need.”
“I want to feel...” Her voice trails. “I want to keep feeling what I’m feeling now.”
I want that too, but forever.
Her hands move to my shoulders. She digs her fingernails into my skin. “Why is it this good?”
“Our bodies were made for each other,” I whisper the words without thinking. “I was made to fuck you.”
Her eyes widen. Desire swims in them. “So do it.”
I want more so I haul her to her feet, press her against the wall surrounding the tub and enter her from behind.
She cries out as soon as I’m buried balls deep.
I take her hard with a furious need that I can’t control. I reach around to her clit, fingering it because I know it’ll send her over the edge.
It does.
She comes around my cock, her pussy pulsing as I push deeper and deeper still and as soon as the unmistakable rush of desire runs through me, I pull out and shoot my load all over her ass.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Donovan
Panic shoots through me when I hear the sound of a groan echo through my room. It’s dark except for the light streaming onto the bed from the windows. I didn’t bother to lower the blinds since no one can see in and the view of the ocean is just beyond my reach behind the glass.
It may only be visible as a reflective surface for the moon at the moment, but Delia labeled it as romantic so as we drifted off to sleep with her wrapped in my arms, I watched the moon as we passed it on our journey toward the next port. It’s the last one before the ship heads back to Miami.
“Delia?” I whisper, patting the mattress next to me.
I’m not surprised in the least that she’s not there.
“Delia?” I say her name louder this time, hoping she’ll offer a response. It may only be another groan but it’ll serve as a beacon to draw me to where she is.
“In here,” she calls out from the washroom.
I look in that direction. The door is slightly ajar but it’s dark behind it.
I sit up, not caring that I’m nude. She needs me. I sense it. I know it. I’m a deep sleeper so my body knew that my Delia needed me.
I sprint to the door of the washroom even though it’s not that far. I push it open slowly to find her huddled in the corner on the floor. She’s wearing her strapless dress. Her knees are tucked against her chest as she rocks gently forward, then back again.
I race to her, dropping to my knees as soon as I’m close to her.
I instinctively reach out to touch her face. Her skin is cold and clammy. Her eyes are sunken. I can tell she’s barely slept. I press my lips to her forehead to check if she’s running a fever, but she’s not.
“I couldn’t keep my dinner in. I kept vomiting.” She pats her stomach. “That’s TMI, but it’s true.”
“It’s not too much information,” I tell her kissing her cheek. “You should have woken me up.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I wanted you to sleep, besides I’ve gotten good at taking care of myself. I always do when I’m sick.”
I fucking hate that. The thought of her suffering in any capacity while alone tears a path of pain straight through me.
She deserves to be cared for, adored, and spoiled. I want to do that and more.
I cup her chin in my hand so I can look into her eyes. “I’ll get you into bed. There’s a stack of motion sickness bags in the closet. I’ll grab a few to put next to the bed in case.”
“I’m sure my stomach is empty by now.” She manages a slight laugh. “I’m glad you’re not sick.”
I’m not. I’d much rather be the one in pain right now. It’s not because I believe I’m stronger than her, but I am willing to carry any burden she has weighing her down.
“It had to have been the shrimp scampi.” She blows out a heavy exhale. “You didn’t touch that.”
She’s right. I didn’t, because I wanted her to savor every single bite. She was enjoying it so much that stealing even a small taste felt criminal to me.