Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
That… that happened. Holy hell. I just came all over a stranger’s face on a stolen boat in the middle of a wild river in a foreign, jungle nation.
Me. Allison Westerly. The boring archeologist who stays home on weekend nights to catch up on the latest research papers.
But, my god. I’m so glad I didn’t stop him.
Truck is a sight to behold between my legs. The wide knotted shoulders, the strong-corded neck, with a long straight spine bound by thick muscles that lead down to a tight, muscular ass.
The man is perfection. All of it, even his mud-caked cargo pants where they hug the curve of his ass is just teasing me even more.
Nearly weeping with pleasure, drunk on the sight of him, I forget all modesty.
My legs rock open farther. Putting myself right there.
Screw the fact that I haven’t had a shower. Forget that I’ve been nearly shot and almost drowned. I’m so in it that I don’t even recognize myself.
Full display.
Caution to the wind.
I grind recklessly against him. Moaning sounds embarrassingly coming from somewhere deep inside my chest.
A second orgasm is chasing me like a whirlwind ripping across the open plain.
Apparently, almost dying a handful of times will make you wanton as hell.
“God, you’re. So. Good. At that .” My voice is ragged as my heartbeat. “I’m so close again.”
That must be the right thing to say because two thick, hard fingers find my center and hook inside. Hitting me square in a place that’s never been touched.
“Oh!”
He chuckles against me, pressing his mouth to my clit as he speaks. “You’re going to squirt for me, Ally. I can feel it, you’re right there.”
My eyes fly open.
I am? Is that what I feel? That low pressure, that heat that’s building and building, and the need to push against his fingers?
“Fuck, yes.” His groan is rough. “Let it go.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t think.
The urge overtakes me, and I loosen my lower muscles, lifting my hips as he presses those incredible fingers into me more and more.
And then…
He quickly drags his fingers out, and I go off. The orgasm swarms through me—bursts of light and heat— collecting in my core.
I shudder. An animalistic sound comes out of me as a deep thread unravels, unleashing a pleasure that is both deeper and longer than any I’ve ever felt.
My release goes everywhere, warm soaking pleasure that drips down my thighs and soaks his hand.
“Mmmm my god.”
What just happened?
The muscles of my neck no longer work, and I blink at the thatched ceiling of the boat in a daze.
“You taste so fucking good. Like sunshine and cake. I could eat you all day long, sexy girl.”
The left hand attached to my arm lifts and flops down on the bed again. Nothing is working as it should.
“What did you do to me?” The words are only rough whispers because I’m as weak as a cloud.
He chuckles, kisses my inner thigh before giving my pulsing clit one more lingering swipe of his tongue. A shower of stars bursts in my vision.
He goes on, kissing my other leg, making tiny jolts rocket through me.
I’m blissed out when the bed creaks.
I expect him to rise above me, to come to me, but instead, he disappears.
Seconds tick by, the humid tropical air cooling the place where his mouth just was.
Uh oh. Alarmed, I lift my head, causing my vision to swim. “Where are you going?”
“Over here.”
He grips his fully engorged cock through his pants and backs away until he’s sprawled on the bench across from me.
Puzzled, I blink at him, only to be distracted by how hot he looks.
The light loves him. All those planes of muscles, smooth skin, dips and valleys, and long limbs.
I’m devouring the sight of him until I remember he’s six feet away and still wearing his pants.
“Did I do something wrong?”
His brow creases, a look of concern flickering across his face. “Fuck, no. You were perfect.”
Fighting through the fog he left in my brain, I push up to sit on the bed, suddenly very aware of my nakedness. I’m bare from collarbone to my toes, the shirt wantonly shoved around my neck. Legs splayed every which way. Soaked from my orgasm. I’m on full display to him.
“Then why did you…?”
I don’t even know what to ask, it's too mortifying.
A dark part of me stirs—the insecure girl that once inhabited my body.
Before, I was the girl who was awkward and too tall, and far too nerdy for friends. She still lives inside and reappears when it’s least convenient.
My heart takes a tumble, landing in a familiar, isolating place.
“Hey.” A rough sound comes from his throat as he pushes to stand up and move toward me. “Look at me.”
I give him a tight shake of my head. “It’s okay, never mind.”
“Ally, look at my cock.”
Of course, my eyes obey his command and zoom right to his zipper. The man is very huge . The ridge in his pants is as big as my forearm.
When he steps closer, it fills my vision.
Still clouded with confusion, I feel the joy of my orgasm fading.
“Beautiful Ally.” His thumb brushes over my lip before he leans down and kisses me. When he’s done, he murmurs, “You think I don’t want you?”
I hold perfectly still, a fight between who I want to be and who I always have been is raging below my heated skin.
“I don’t know.”
“Did I just eat you like a starving man?”
A flush starts on my neck, climbing upward. “Yes.”
Lord, he is good with his tongue. The sensual drag and thrusting motion combined with the taste of me clinging on him is deadly.
I’m already clenching inside again, even if I don’t understand why he pulled away.
Solemn, he looks down at me from his imposing height, the color of his irises darker, stormier than ever.
I give up. Toss in the towel. Whatever he’s trying to say to me with that look is far beyond my sexual IQ.
“Don’t you want to let me pleasure you?”
That calloused thumb draws over my lower lip again. His eyes following the path, the depth of his breathing going shallow. “More than you can imagine.”
I reach up to touch his wrist, but he catches my hand. “Don’t touch me right now.”
Confusion slices me into ribbons.
“It’s not you,” he rumbles, “I can barely keep myself from wrecking you right now. But I’ve got a lot of issues to work through before we go there, if I decide to go there.”
But wait. He was just talking about protecting me. Wanting me. Craving me.
The shredded pieces of me deflate. Over the years of dealing with my father’s hurtful ways, I’ve learned to brace for disappointment. But this hurts in a way I couldn’t have been prepared for.
My usual techniques for stopping the tears before they give me away are useless. A storm hits the back of my throat.
I’m too raw and vulnerable to fight it down.
Tugging my hand free, I force the shirt back into place and nod stiffly.
He shakes his head, tension bracketing his lips. “Don’t pull away.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have done that, then, because I thought you were into us.”
Us.
I said it.
The word cleaves the air.
Something flashes across his expression, and he moves faster than I can anticipate, he climbs on top of me, flattening me back into the bed using a gigantic palm on my sternum.
The breath trembles out of me as his heavy body sinks against my pelvis. The ridge of that gigantic cock settling against the softness of my belly.
The heat of his mouth hits the side of my neck. When he kisses that spot with his mouth open, my heart cartwheels.
“Dammit, woman.”
The pressure of that open mouth kiss turns to a bite.
All of my skin goosebumps. A startled moan shoots out of me.
Shifting against me, he’s at my ear, a warm tease of his tongue, his rasped breath. Followed by a husky whisper. “I’ve never wanted anything more. I want every inch of you—every tight, perfect place to be mine to ruin.”