62 Rhys
62
Rhys
I knew I’d fall victim to temptation as soon as I saw her in the airport terminal. And even though I knew, I hadn’t done anything to avoid it. She was making me crazy. How good she smelled. Her smile. Her voice. Every detail. The thought that I could be by her side. And tonight…seeing her dance that way, without thinking about anything, her head not crowded with a million worries and obligations, in the red dress that rose inch by inch up her thighs every time she shifted her hips…
I was doomed.
And now we were on the shore, as far as we could go, walking, kissing, and finally falling down together onto the sand. If I’d ever had any doubts, they vanished when I felt her body pressed against mine, every curve making me delirious, every kiss lighting a fire inside me…
“If we don’t stop, I’m going to fuck you right here.”
“Rhys…” She laughed, and I took a deep breath.
“I’m serious, Ginger…”
“There are people here. They might see us.”
“They’re far away,” I murmured.
She softly arched her hips, seeking me. I pushed her hair from her face and bit her lip. She panted. I felt something come loose in my chest and pushed a hand down between her legs slowly, leaving behind the fabric of her dress. She shivered. I went higher, unable to stop looking at her as I pushed her underwear aside and she chewed her already red lower lip.
“Rhys, they’re going to see us.”
There weren’t that many people around. Just some groups of young people and one or two couples, none of them paying us much attention. It was a dark night, and the moon was waning. Our moon.
I rubbed her between her legs. She moaned.
“Tell me, what should I do…? Ginger, look at me.”
Her eyes were cloudy, full of desire.
“Keep going,” she whispered, arching her back.
So I did. Slowly. Memorizing every detail of her. Sinking my fingers into her. Holding on to the moment. Savoring it. Smiling every time she got impatient and tried to make me go faster. Until she decided she wanted to play too and slipped a hand between our bodies, looking for me. I mumbled something, I don’t know what; I hadn’t expected that. She unbuttoned my pants and took me to the limit. I groaned, shuddered, because…I was losing control. We were panting, caressing each other, lying on the sand. The rest of the world blurred around us. Time seemed to slow down. I sought her lips. Licked them. Bit them. Stroked them as if this was the first time we’d ever kissed, because the flavor of her tongue was the sweetest thing I’d ever known. I rubbed her harder now, and she tensed up, trembled.
I reached up toward her throat, let my thumb touch her neck, rising to the edges of her lips, never taking my eyes off her.
Her breathing kept getting harder.
My heart was about to explode. And she let herself go. We let ourselves go. Pleasure embracing us both. Her moans drowned by kisses I could no longer suppress and the murmuring of the waves. When I managed to stop shaking, we took off our shoes, I lifted her up, and we went out into the sea fully dressed. The water was warm. Far off, we could hear voices. Neither of us said anything. I don’t know how long we were there, holding each other, swaying, her legs around my waist, her face resting on my shoulder. What I remember is, when we emerged, I had sobered up, and when we got on the bike, we were still soaked. Ginger spent the entire time leaning her head on my back, and when we returned to the apartment, we flopped down on the couch, still dressed, still wet, legs wrapped around each other, weary, with words caught in our throats that neither of us dared yet to utter.