7. Mira
Mira
Maybe this is a terrible idea. Maybe it’s my best idea ever. I don’t know. All I know is that Cord makes me so damn horny.
“Have to confess something to you,” he admits as I grab his hand and tug him into the villa.
I push him up against the closed door. My panties are damp again. They’re always that way around Cord. He only has to look at me with that smirk or make me sweet promises, and it’s like a faucet. I’m wondering if he’s a dirty talker. I think maybe I’d like it if he said filthy things to me.
“Wait,” he murmurs as I rip off his suitcoat. “This is important, Mira.”
There’s something about his tone. I stop undressing him and glance up at him. “Have you lied to me about something?”
“I didn’t lie to you. But we didn’t sleep together, on our wedding night. I know you think we did and—”
Relief and giddiness go through me at his confession. It’s definitely not a lie, and I don’t care what he let me think. I only care that he’s here, and he gives me incredible orgasms. “Then you should know I’m expecting a lot from this performance, cowboy.”
“And I will deliver.” He grabs my hips, moving so I’m the one against the door, and I love the feeling of being caged in by him. Love the way he kisses me like he owns me now. My breasts brush against his chest, my nipples sharp points, and I rub myself shamelessly against him.
His hand goes under my dress. “Are you wet for me?”
“See for yourself,” my voice is breathy, and I’ve never been this needy before.
He slips his fingers beneath my dress and brushes my soft flesh. “You’re not wearing panties. You were waiting for this, weren’t you? Sitting through dinner, knowing that later I was going to slide deep into you.”
I nod, wondering if I look as needy as I feel. “I’m on the pill, and I’m healthy.”
“Are you saying you want this bare? Do you want me to claim your tight pussy, fill it with my come until it’s leaking from you?”
“Yes,” I moan as he dips a finger into my aching channel. After our shower, I know he’s got a big cock that’s salty and warm and hard for me. Just the memory has me clenching around his digit.
He groans and presses another kiss to my lips. His other kisses were slow and tender, but this one is different. It’s filthy and needy and so damn erotic as he mimics with his tongue exactly what he plans to do with his cock.
His energy is fierce and primal, and it makes me grab his shoulders. He’s so strong and solid.
“Can’t wait anymore,” he says and yanks at his pants. He frees his cock and impales me in one smooth thrust. I’m trapped between his strong body and the door, unable to do anything but surrender to this moment of pleasure that’s happening between us.
I call his name in a whimper. He’s so big and he’s filling me so well. Just the thought makes my pussy gush even more.
“I know, I know,” he presses his forehead to mine even as his hips begin a pounding rhythm. “I’ll be gentler next time. But this pussy is driving me crazy. Can’t believe I managed to stay out of you for two days.”
“That’s it. Feels so good,” I murmur as he reaches for my clit.
He circles it with the pad of his thumb. “You’re soaked for me. You’ve been needy all day.”
“Yes. Yes!” I scream as the tension builds in my body. “Take me. Take everything. Make me yours.”
“This pussy is so damn snug. You’re so tight and hot and fuck, you’re such a good girl. So good for me.”
His words have me hurtling over the edge, the orgasm so intense that it steals my breath and completely consumes me. He stays steady through the whole thing, giving me that pleasure as I cry out, making incoherent sounds.
I’m still barely functional when he carries me to the bed. He withdraws from me, and his slick cock is eye-level with me. I lick my lips eager to have my mouth on him. He didn’t come yet, and if that’s the way he prefers, I’m all too happy to swallow again.
But instead of asking for that, he says in a gritty command, “On your hands and knees for me. Show me the pussy I own.”
I know the feminist in me should be super mad at him right now, but instead I just gush again and do exactly as he said. Every time he’s been inside me, he’s given me incredible pleasure. Mine seems just as important to him as his is, which makes me damn eager to see what he wants to do next.
I yank off my dress, completely naked in front of him, and get to my hands and knees. The bed dips behind me.
His breath is hot on my neck. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“Yours,” I agree with a breathy whimper.
He slides into my channel and at this angle, he goes even deeper. I’ve never been so stuffed full. I reach between my legs, touching my clit. I didn’t expect to be able to come again, but here I am.
“That’s it. Touch yourself,” he croons.
His words, his thick cock, and his breath on my neck, all of its too much. There’s too much pleasure here, and I go hurtling over the edge of bliss. My rubbery legs collapse, but I don’t fall because he wraps an arm around my waist and holds me up.
“Such a pretty girl,” he whispers, his thrusts growing more erratic until he’s coming. He fills me, his seed splashing inside of me as he finds his pleasure.
When he finally catches his breath and pulls out, he goes to the bathroom and returns with a warm washcloth. He tenderly cleans my swollen flesh, using the opportunity to probe my folds. “Too rough?”
“I loved everything we did,” I reassure him, oddly touched by his concern. “And I was good?”
He pauses and the expression on his face when he looks up at me is so tender, so sincere that it makes my heart skip a beat. “You were amazing. Sex wasn’t hard because of you. It was hard because of him. He was selfish.”
“He was my first and only. I thought it was normal,” I admit, feeling ashamed for accepting someone who cared so little about my body other than what it could do for him. “He made me feel like I was asking for too much.”
He cups my face. “You deserve a man who takes care of you in and out of the bedroom. That’s not asking too much. That’s asking the bare fucking minimum. As for me, I plan to raise your bar so damn high that no one else will ever satisfy you the way I do.”
I’m not sure my heart will survive, but I don’t tell him that. Instead, I swallow and look away from his intense gaze. His ability to see into all of the wounded places of my heart makes sense given what he told me over dinner. “You deserved someone that was faithful.”
He smiles. “That was a long time ago, and I’m happy now. So happy.”
He tosses the cloth into the nearby hamper and joins me on the bed, pulling me into his arms. My head is on his shoulder, my fingertips tracing circles on his scarred chest. I didn’t take Cord for a cuddler. I’ve always liked cuddling.
He makes a soft purring sound. He sounds like a big cat that’s been completely sated.
I feel the same way. I had no idea sex could be so good or so easy with the right person.
We just work together, and it makes me wonder what life could look like between us if this were a real honeymoon.
As soon as the thought comes, I push it away.
I can’t be thinking like that. It’ll hurt too much when this ends.
“This is going to be incredible!” I shout as the wind from the helicopter steals my breath and whips my clothes around.
It’s the last day of our honeymoon, and I haven’t let myself think too much about it.
Every time I’ve felt sad that I’ll never see Cord again after this, I’ve reached for him.
We’ve spent every minute that we aren’t sight-seeing making love.
He wasn’t lying when he said he was going to raise the bar.
All it takes now is a look or a word from his lips, and I’m drenched.
It’s not just the sex either. Cord takes care of me. When we went on a hike yesterday, and I realized I’d forgotten my bag of snacks, he gave me his protein bar and shared his water. He gives to me in a way that I didn’t realize a man could, and he makes me wish this could be a real marriage.
I don’t think he feels quite the same way because he hasn’t suggested that we stay together after the honeymoon. It’s probably for the best. I have goals to achieve. I have plans, and I don’t want to change them for anyone. Not after what happened with Stuart.
I’m ready for my life to just be about me. Well, me and Molly and Milo. The three of us are a family.
“Climb in. Watch your head.” The tour guide yells, gesturing for me to enter the helicopter.
Beside me, Cord is stone still, and I nudge him with my elbow. “Do you still want to go up?”
He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, the way I do when I see thunderstorms in the forecast. I think maybe he’s going to tell me that he’s afraid of heights.
But to my surprise, he nods and follows me into the helicopter.
The guide points out all the natural sights, talking to us through the headsets.
But the entire time, Cord is quiet and unmoving. Finally, I put my hand on his thigh and he looks at me.
“I’m here,” I say knowing the pilot and tour guide can hear us through the headsets, but I don’t care. All I care about is comforting this big, strong man who’s been so sweet to me. He seems to relax at my touch and words.
When we’re back on the ground, I notice his hands are shaky, so I thank the tour guide for our experience then I look at him. “I’m kind of tired. Do you mind if we order in some room service at the villa?”
Back at the villa, we order in burgers and stream a movie. Well, we start streaming it. We get maybe halfway through it before we’re touching each other and making love all over again.
“You seem sad,” he says after when I’m lying next to him in an exhausted, sweaty heap. Every time I think it can’t get better and hotter between us, he goes and proves me wrong.
“Just missing Molly and Milo,” I say quickly. Technically, our honeymoon is supposed to continue for another two days, but I’ve already booked my return flight. He just doesn’t know that yet.
“You’ll see them soon,” he reassures me with a grin.
“I know,” I murmur and put my head against his chest. I want to soak up every last minute that we have together, and I don’t want to think about how I’m leaving in the morning.