25. Kashmere Charm
Virella Azu l
W hen we landed in Virella Azul, the beautiful scenery almost took my breath away.
The water looked like it had been poured straight from a bottle of turquoise glass, and the air carried that warm, salty breeze that makes your skin feel softer the second it touches you.
The runway sat right along the coast, so I could see the waves glittering in the distance as we stepped off the jet.
It felt like the kind of place you only seen in pictures, like the whole damn island had been designed for people who could afford to forget about the rest of the world for a while.
Pressure walked ahead of me, his jewelry catching the sunlight with every step.
The gold chains across his chest shined against his dark skin, his watch heavy and bright on his wrist, and there was a certain way he carried himself here—like this was his territory.
The closer I got to him, the more I realized just how easy it was to fall into his space.
I knew what we’d been through back at the estate.
I knew I had let my emotions run wild and I wasn’t proud of the way I handled it, but in this moment, none of that mattered.
He had still brought me here, still decided that I was worth this trip, and deep down I understood exactly what that meant.
The car waiting for us was a sleek black SUV with tinted windows.
The driver greeted Pressure like he already knew him, loading our bags before opening the door for me.
Inside was cool and smelled faintly of citrus, and the leather seats felt like they’d been made for you to sink into.
We rode along a winding coastal road, passing stretches of untouched beach and villas tucked behind palm trees, each one more private than the last.
When we reached ours, I knew immediately this wasn’t just some high-end rental.
This was something Pressure had picked because it spoke to him.
The villa sat on its own curve of sand, the driveway lined with tropical flowers in full bloom.
White stone walls framed the entrance, and tall glass doors opened straight through to a view that looked unreal.
The whole back wall was nothing but open space to the ocean.
Inside, it was decked out the way only a man like Pressure could arrange.
A private chef was already in the open kitchen, preparing fresh seafood while the smell of garlic and butter drifted through the air.
A chilled bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket on the marble counter, along with a tray of tropical fruit—pineapple, mango, and strawberries cut so perfectly they looked fake.
The chef nodded respectfully when we walked in, and Pressure told him to make sure the drinks kept coming.
I walked out onto the terrace, letting my hands slide along the smooth stone railing as I took in the view.
The infinity pool spilled into the horizon, and just beyond it was our own private beach.
The sound of the water mixed with faint music drifting from somewhere in the villa, set the mood without forcing it.
I turned slightly and found myself watching Pressure instead of the scenery.
He had taken off his shirt and was standing near the pool, the sun hitting the hard lines of his chest and shoulders.
The jewelry still caught the light, and the tattoos across his skin were so damn sexy.
It hit me then that I really had him all to myself.
“Come on,” he said, jerking his head toward the beach.
We walked down a short path that led straight to the sand where one of those luxury tents had already been set up for us.
It wasn’t just a regular ass tent either.
It was a full, draped canopy bed with crisp white sheets, plush pillows, and a small table stocked with liquor, mixers, and a speaker.
The breeze pushed at the gauzy curtains, giving little flashes of the ocean beyond, and the whole thing felt private.
Pressure set the speaker beside us and let music spill out, the bass low and smooth, while he poured us each a drink.
He handed mine to me before stretching out on the bed and nodding for me to scoot closer.
When I did, he reached for the bottle of tanning oil on the table, twisting the cap like this was already part of his plan.
“Lay on your stomach,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.
I did as he said, feeling the bed shift under his weight as he moved behind me.
The first touch of his hands was warm and slow, the oil slick under his palms as he spread it across my shoulders.
He worked it into my skin with steady pressure, moving down the length of my back, his fingers dragging over every curve.
When he leaned forward, his lips found the side of my neck, then my shoulder, each kiss unhurried like he wanted me to feel the time he was taking with me.
He didn’t speak about the fight, and I didn’t either.
It was like we had both decided this trip wasn’t for that, but for us to remember what it felt like to be on the same side.
His hands moved to my arms, rubbing slow circles into my skin before trailing back down to my waist. I could feel the heat from him behind me, the way his breathing matched mine without even trying.
He slid his hands lower, smoothing the oil over my hips and down my thighs, taking his time with every inch.
When I moved slightly, he leaned in and kissed the curve of my shoulder again, his lips lingering before moving along the line of my back.
Every touch felt intentional, like touch was his new love language.
I turned my head to look at him, and his eyes caught mine. There was something there that told me without speaking that he had me. It was the kind of reassurance that made me feel secure with him, despite knowing I was competing for his heart with seven other females.
The sun was dipping lower, painting the water in shades of gold and pink, and the music kept rolling, soft enough to let the sound of the waves mix in.
I sipped my drink while he moved to lay beside me, stretching one arm under my head and pulling me in with the other.
The scent of the ocean clung to us, and I could still feel the heat from where his hands had been.
Then I felt his hand slide up my thigh. I turned to him, and the way he stared into my eyes overwhelmed me and made my whole body heat up.
The music from the speaker was still playing low in the background, mixing with the sound of the waves, and the breeze kept brushing against my skin through the open drapes of the tent.
He took the last swallow from his glass, set it down slow, and walked toward the tent opening like he was making a decision I had no say in.
When he turned back around, his chains were swinging against his chest, his tattoos cut deep into his muscles, and he was already pulling his shorts down. They hit the floor, and that big, thick, veiny dick swung out heavy like it had been waiting to get fed. My pussy started throbbing on sight.
He didn’t have to tell me shit. I slid to the edge of the bed with my legs wide open, waiting for him to step in.
He came right between my thighs, the size of his dick blocking out the glare of the sun behind him, and reached down to the back of my neck, caressing it slow like I was fragile when I knew I wasn’t.
I looked up at him and wrapped my hand around his dick, feeling the weight and heat in my palm, then leaned forward and took the whole thing in my mouth.
I sucked him like I wanted to drain every drop out of him, my tongue swirling around the head before sliding down until my lips were pressed against the base.
His dick was so thick it stretched my mouth, making my jaw ache, but I didn’t care.
My hand worked what I couldn’t fit, and my other hand stayed on his balls, massaging them slow before rolling them in my palm.
He let out this deep groan, his fingers tightening on my neck, and I knew I was giving it to him exactly how he liked it.
The way he tasted, the way he filled my mouth, the way he stood there watching me—everything about it had me wetter by the second.
I could feel him getting harder, throbbing against my tongue, and just when I knew he was close to busting a nut, he pulled out.
My lips were still wet from him when he leaned down, biting at the side of my bikini bottom and dragging it to the side with his teeth.
Before I could even get a breath, his face was between my legs, lifting them up and throwing them over his shoulders.
His tongue hit my pussy, and my whole body jerked.
He didn’t start slow—he was on my clit immediately, sucking and licking like a man starving.
His hands held my thighs in place, his fingers digging into my skin, and he slid his tongue down to fuck me with it before coming back up to that sensitive spot that had me moaning loud.
“Pressure… oh my God…” I gasped, grabbing his head, digging in his waves while he kept going.
He ate my pussy sloppy, the wet sounds mixing with the waves outside the tent. My legs were shaking, and I was so close I could barely keep still. He moaned against me, sucking harder, and that was it—I exploded, my orgasm rushing through me until my pussy was throbbing against his mouth.
He didn’t let me breathe before climbing on top of me, sliding that thick dick straight inside me.
The stretch had me cursing under my breath, my nails digging into his shoulders.
He filled me so deep I swore I could feel him in my stomach, and he set a rhythm that had my pussy clenching around him from the first few strokes.
His hand came up to my neck, wrapping tight, and I could feel the pressure cutting just enough of my air off to make my pussy grip him harder. His other hand was planted beside my head as he leaned down, his lips brushing my ear.
His strokes got rough and fast, and that shit had my whole body jerking on the bed with each thrust. He was gripping my thighs like he was trying to leave his fingerprints on me, pulling me back onto his dick while pounding me deeper and faster.
The sound of him slapping into my pussy echoed in the tent, wet and nasty, and the harder he fucked me the more I lost control.
“Fuck, Pressure…” I moaned, barely able to hold my legs open the way he had them pinned.
He leaned over me, his chains swinging, and eyes locked on mine like I wasn’t allowed to look anywhere else.
His hand slid higher on my throat, squeezing tighter until my mouth opened wide on its own.
I could feel my pulse jumping under his grip, and the way he was looking down at me told me exactly what was about to happen.
He held me there, still pounding into my pussy, making me take every stroke while I waited for it.
Then he spit right in my mouth, thick and warm, without saying a word—just watching me swallow it like he expected nothing less. His eyes stayed locked on mine while his hips kept drilling me into the bed.
“Ooowee baby… I could fuck this pussy all night,” he growled as his hand gripped my thigh, pressing it up high to open me wider. The weight of him pressing into me had my back arching, and my nails clawing at his shoulders.
He was in control of everything—my breathing, my movement, my pleasure, and he knew it. His hips kept crashing into me, that thick dick hitting every deep spot until my pussy was gushing around him. I could feel it running down to my ass, dripping onto the bed, but he didn’t slow down.
Pressure bent down and sucked my bottom lip, biting it before sliding his mouth to my neck and sucking hard. My moans turned into whimpers I couldn’t hold back.
“Look at me, bae,” he ordered, squeezing my throat just enough to make me obey.
I stared up at him, dizzy from the way he was fucking me and from the air he wouldn’t fully let me breathe. My legs were trembling, my pussy milking his dick on its own, and he was still pounding like he wasn’t nowhere near done.
His strokes got harder, his abs flexing with each one, and he kept one hand choking me while the other grabbed my hair and pulled my head back.
My mouth opened on its own, desperate for air and for him at the same time.
He leaned down again, spitting in it a second time before kissing me deep, his tongue tasting me like he owned my whole mouth.
By the time he pulled back from that kiss, I was completely gone, my body shaking under him, my chest heaving against his. That’s when his lips came to my ear, his voice low and rough enough to send a shiver through me.
“You want Daddy to nut in this pussy?” His voice rough and dripping with sex.
“Yes,” I moaned, grinding into him.
“You sure you wanna have my baby?” He started pounding me harder, each stroke hitting deep enough to make my toes curl.
“Yes… fuck… yes,” I cried out, clutching his back.
“What you want, girl? A boy… twins?” His thrusts got rougher, the bed shifting under us, his chain slapping against my chest as he fucked me into submission.
“Anything… I just want you,” I moaned, my body losing control under him.
The words pushed me over the edge, and I came hard, my pussy squeezing and gushing all over his dick.
He groaned deep, feeling every bit of it, and said, “Goddamn, you drippin’ all down my balls.
” His hand stayed locked around my throat as he fucked me through it, then he tensed, slamming into me one last time before his cum poured inside me.
I was trembling, my pussy still twitching around him, my chest rising fast. He stayed inside me, staring down with that dangerous smirk.
“And this exactly why I’m crazy,” I breathed out.
“I’m crazy too,” he replied, kissing me hard before pulling out slow.
After we caught our breath, he stood up, opened the tent back and laid beside me, pulling me in so we could watch the sun melt into the water. The sound of the waves was relaxing, but the only thing I could hear was my own heartbeat still pounding from the way he just fucked me.