Chapter 3
I’m not exactlysure how it happened, but suddenly I’m naked in front of a man for the first time in my entire life.
Naked with a stranger, no less.
I know this man must be a Tripp—probably one of the older cousins who was sent away to business school, while Mark stayed here to learn the operation from the docks up—but I don’t even know his first name.
I’m about to lose my virginity to an anonymous asshole who thinks he can treat me like his own personal small-town prostitute.
Well, he has another think coming on that. No way in hell will I be trotting my ass down to his yacht every night to service his cock and sneaking out like a shameful secret the next morning. Yes, I would have been willing to sneak around with Mark, but Mark is a friend—sort of—not a pompous, arrogant shithead who thinks he’s?—
“Oh my God,” I moan, my hands flying to tangle in the pompous shithead’s hair as he buries his face between my legs, his tongue swirling against my clit with a firm assurance that sends electric shocks of pleasure pulsing across my skin.
He kisses me there, in that place no man has ever kissed me, and I instinctively know no other man will ever measure up to this jerk’s mouth. His lips, his tongue, his teeth…he employs every tool at his disposal with the kind of skill I’m guessing only comes with hours and hours of devoted practice.
His tongue pushes inside me and I die a little. Then his tongue is on my clit and his fingers are inside me and things are happening that have only ever happened while I’m alone in my room with my vibrator between my legs and a steamy romance in my headphones.
I come.
And not just come, I come hard.
I come writhing and bucking into his lips and squirming shamelessly closer to his magical mouth. I come with an intensity that leaves my head spinning and my breath rushing so fast I can barely bleat in protest as he abruptly flips me onto my stomach and swats my ass.
Once I’ve managed to pull in a breath, I jerk my attention over my shoulder, in time to see him swat me again, hard enough to make my flesh sting.
“What was that for?” I demand, outraged and pissed off and…so fucking turned on I can barely stand it.
“For trespassing,” he says, swatting me again even as his other hand moves between my legs from behind. He strokes his fingers through my swollen, sensitive flesh, making me tremble. “And this is for having the most delicious pussy I’ve ever tasted.” The next two slaps are softer.
Or maybe I’m just getting used to the sting.
Getting used to it and liking it way more than I ever imagined I would…
But still, I’ve read enough kinky romance to know you’re supposed to ask for permission to introduce pain into pleasure. “That’s the last time you spank me without permission,” I say. “Next time, you ask.”
His lips curve into a wicked smile as he continues to finger me. “Yes, ma’am.”
My brows shoot up and my thighs ease farther apart, making more room for his talented hand. “It’s that easy?”
“It’s that easy.” He smooths his free palm over the flushed skin on my backside. “I won’t spank you at all, if you don’t like it, but…I think you do.” His fingers push deeper into where I’m dripping for him, making me moan. “Tell me you like it when I spank you, Sully.”
“I…” I trail off, biting my bottom lip as he proves just how good he is at making me forget how to speak. “I don’t understand why you spanked me for tasting good.”
A beat later, he’s hovering over me, his hands on either side of my shoulders and his heat warming my entire body as he whispers in my ear, “I didn’t say good. I said delicious, so delicious I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about it for a very long time. Your sweet little pussy is going to haunt me, Sully.”
“Good,” I murmur, feeling wicked and wonderful as he wraps his arm around my waist, flipping me onto my back with an ease that makes me feel delicate for the first time in my life. Then, his big palm is between my shoulders, sliding me higher on the mattress with one hand, and I feel every drop of feminism leech from my body.
At five eight, I’ve always been taller than a lot of men. As a former rugby player, who’s only gotten in better shape since high school, I’m also stronger than a good number of them. I’ve never felt small or dainty with a guy I’ve dated, but I’ve never imagined I’d enjoy feeling that way, either.
I like knowing I can handle myself in a scuffle with just about anyone and that, worst-case scenario, I could drag my date out of a burning building as easily as he could do the same.
I never thought I’d melt for a man who could move me around with one hand, or with thighs even stronger than my own.
But as my stranger guides my legs apart and settles between them, the feel of his hard, muscled body makes me tremble.
“Nervous?” he asks, mistaking the reason for my shiver.
I shake my head, marveling at the power in him as I skim my fingertips over his chest and up around his firm shoulders. “No.” I lift my hips, relishing the way he sucks in a breath as my bare pussy rubs against his erection through his boxer briefs.
He’s big there, too, but I’m not worried. I’m too turned on to be worried. I just want him, every inch—now.
“I just want you,” I say, rubbing against him again, moaning as he captures my nipple between his fingers. “I’m dying to know what it feels like.”
“And you’re sure you won’t regret having your first time be with a stranger?” he asks, a gentler note in his voice than I’ve heard before.
It’s my first hint that Mr. Pompous isn’t all bad, which is nice, I guess, but it doesn’t really matter. No matter what he wants, this is only going to be a one-night thing. I can’t risk anything more.
I have one night to figure out what all the sex fuss is about and I’ve never been this turned on. I couldn’t stop now if I tried, not even if he were the worst man in the world.
“No regrets,” I say, squirming beneath him as he lowers his head, sucking my nipple into his mouth. I cradle his head, my breath coming faster. “But please, fuck me. I need more than fingers. I need it so bad.”
Those must have been the magic words because he reaches for the bedside table, grabbing a wallet I didn’t notice there before. A beat later, he’s out of his boxer briefs, kneeling between my legs as he rolls a condom down his long, thick length.
His cock is gorgeous. For a moment, I’m sad that I didn’t get the chance to touch it before he was covered in latex, to feel his burning hot skin against my fingers, or to lick the salt from the tip of him with my tongue. I’ve never received oral before tonight, but I’ve given it a few times, and I’m not too shabby at it. At least my high school boyfriend, Keith, never had any complaints.
But before I can dwell too much on my lost opportunity, my stranger is fitting his thick, hard length to where I’m already so sensitive and wet. He goes slow, gliding into me centimeter by centimeter, holding my gaze as he moves. When I wince a few inches in, he pauses, whispering, “Let me know when the pain is better, and I’ll keep going.”
“Don’t stop,” I say, digging my nails into his shoulders. “It doesn’t hurt, it just feels…”
“Feels…?” he prompts as he sinks deeper, deeper, until he’s fully inside and I’m fighting to pull in a breath.
He’s big enough to fill every inch of me, pressing against my inner walls, but aside from a slight bruised feeling, there’s no pain. There’s only pressure and sensation and the curious need to move, to feel him move, to create a kind of friction I’ve never felt before but instinctively crave.
“Full,” I supply, though that isn’t the exact word.
I do feel full, but I also feel electrified, aware of every centimeter of my skin in a way I never have been before. The feel of his hand squeezing my hip as he pulls back and sinks inside me again sends electricity shooting through me from head to toe.
When he bends to lick my nipple again, I nearly have an out-of-body experience.
“Oh God,” I breathe, clawing at the back of his neck as he continues to suck my breast into the warm heat of his mouth and rocks into me with slow, shallow thrusts that make the tension building between my hips spiral higher.
“Your nipples are so sensitive,” he says, transferring his attention to my other breast as he lifts my hips into the air, adjusting the angle of penetration until he grinds against my clit at the end of every shift of his hips. “One night I’m going to make you come like this, just from touching you, sucking you, biting you.”
“Oh God,” I mumble again, panting now as the wave of pleasure bearing down on me threatens to break. “Oh God. Oh God.”
“Not God, beautiful,” he murmurs as he moves faster, deeper. “Weaver. Call me Weaver when you come on my cock. Fuck, yes, come for me. Come for me like a good girl.”
His words penetrate the lust haze but it’s too late, I’m already coming so hard it feels like I’m being turned inside out. I’m spiraling and pulsing and throbbing with bliss. I’m clinging to him as he comes, soaking up every word he murmurs about how perfect I feel on his cock, even as my brain is having a meltdown of unparalleled proportions.
Because this man?
This stranger?
He isn’t an older cousin. He’s Weaver Tripp—Weaver fucking Tripp, the man who destroyed my parents’ marriage and sent my father on his final downward spiral, the one from which he’s never recovered.
Weaver is a bad, bad man and I’m even worse for sleeping with him.
But before I can shove him off me and make a run for it—or beg him to fuck me again because I am a weak, spineless waste of a human who’s pretty sure she just became an instant sex addict—a voice from above deck calls Weaver’s name.
We’re not alone, and I might be about to get caught naked with the one man I never should have so much as said “hello” to as we passed on the street.