Chapter 17 Lilly #2
I grab his hand and don’t let go as we check in, barely keeping my excitement at bay.
The concierge shows us our villa. The traditional design, with a thatched roof, blends seamlessly with nature, the infinity pool giving you the impression that you swim right in the forest. Beyond the tips of the trees, the ocean stretches.
A waterfall susurrates, and its sound, mixed with the chirping of birds, adds even more allure to this tranquil and romantic ambiance.
“It’s breathtaking,” I murmur.
I turn around to share this moment with him, only to see him already looking at me, his hands tucked in his pockets.
“It is.”
Potent emotions cram in my chest. I don’t know who moves first, but we crash together in a whirlwind of passion. His hands dig into my waist while mine claw at his arms.
I wet my lips, past my breaking point. “Ten days.”
“There’s no break in our friendship, but you’ll be mine the way I want you.”
I nod, coming undone by the seams. “Yes, and after ten days we…”
“We go back to normal,” he agrees, but his clipped tone lacks guarantee.
The deal sounds too good to be true like we both thought of something similar. My hesitance shatters into a million pieces, impossible to reassemble.
Our mouths meet in a slow kiss, exploring languidly as we let go, embracing the desire—not rushing through but savoring each decadent sensation. God, it feels exquisite. He devours my mouth, ravishing my insides. Every sensual lick and playful nibble breaks me apart, puts me back together.
A kaleidoscope of stars unfurls behind my closed eyes, blinding me with their bright colors, dizzying me with the rapidly changing patterns.
I could kiss him forever, but sadly, we need to come up for air.
He tips my chin up and I see my eyes in his, meshing in a haze of lust.
“I want you so much. I want nothing else and no one as much, Lilly.”
It’s the same for me.
“Tell me you want this. You want me,” he says with urgency that triggers mine.
“I do,” I murmur.
Why does he need my permission when I ache for everything he can give me?
He comes for another kiss, this one hungrier, more intense, flaming up the passion between us.
His hands move down my body, grazing my stiff nipples with his thumbs. Goose bumps spread over my heated skin. My toes curl, sucking in a breath.
One slight touch and I am wanton, frantic for a release.
He lets a satisfied groan out and peels my top off. Unclasping my bra with ease, he takes a step back, eyeing my breasts with raw hunger. He makes me feel beautiful, but my impatience wavers. It seems like forever since we were together.
I sashay toward him and tug at his shirt, not caring about anything but feeling him—all of him.
Our naked chests press together. He’s hard everywhere, looking mouthwatering.
I can’t tear my eyes from his sculpted body.
My fingers itch to trace my hand over every hard plane, implant myself on him to ease my craving.
His dick stretches behind the boxer briefs. “Like what you see? I’d fuck you into the next century, flower girl. God, I can’t stop thinking about you. Need you.”
Gripping my ass cheeks, he hikes me up, my core grinding against his steel cock. I constrict everywhere, just to feel him inside of me already.
My hand flies in his hair, tugging at the ends. Lips locked, he walks me toward the bed. My back lands on the fluffy mattress with a surprised yelp before he slides my jeans off me. His gaze is as hot as a volcano, creating a lava to flow through my veins.
Finding evidence of how much I want him, he brushes his nose against my drenched thong, inhaling my scent.
“I’ll worship this pussy I can’t get out of my head. Never had better and never will,” he rasps.
He hooks a thumb under the strap and trails my thong down my legs before he discards it on the floor—forgotten just like his restraint and my inhibitions.
“Look at this bare, perfect pussy.”
This man makes me feel like I am the most desirable woman on earth, boosting me up.
He kneels at the edge of the bed and trails a finger over my slit, causing a jolt to electrify my body. Hooking my leg over his shoulder, he wears a mischievous grin, before he nibbles up my thigh. When his hot breath finds my pussy, I buck up, tingling everywhere.
“Please… I’m—” Desperate, wanton, ready to combust.
“Let me greet my pussy properly after so long.” His tongue laps at my slit and I arch my back, riding a wave of pleasure that pulls me under.
No problem, I’ll learn to live with holding my breath just to feel this ultimate pleasure.
He slips one finger inside me, then another, scissoring them and coaxing a waterfall of pleasure out of me. Can you die of too much pleasure? Don’t care either way.
His mouth and pumping fingers make me lose my mind. I embark on a journey straight to euphoria, chasing that ultimate pleasure destination.
Fisting the sheet, I come on a long cry, breathing heavily. Am I still alive?
My release glistens on his chin and he licks his lips, an approving sound rumbling in his chest.
Lust hoods his eyes, eliciting another tremor from my body. “Delicious.”
I look at him and see how his erection pokes out from his boxer briefs. I swallow—hungry and eager to feel it.
He cups his cock, eyeing me as his palm moves up and down, hypnotizing me.
“Do you think your pussy can take the excitement of my cock?”
“Yes,” I breathe out.
I spread my legs in open invitation, twirling my nipples—unabashedly.
I am this confident only with him—free to explore the seductress in me, wanting him on his knees, undone for me, just like I am him.
“Good, because it seems I waited an eternity to get back inside you.”
He tugs at his waistband and slips them off. He’s big, thick, with an angry purple head and leaking pre-cum. I swallow, wanting to lick the drop. Patience. I’ll have time to fulfill all my fantasies.
“Fuck, condoms.”
I giggle at the plural.
“I’m on the pill. I want to feel you bare, Ian,” I coax him, starved for more—more of that promise of unbound pleasure and ultimate fulfilment.
“I’m clean and always use condoms.”
Flicking a finger, I urge him to come to me. “Now, where were we?”
He smirks. “To me ravishing your pussy.”
My thighs clench in anticipation as he settles himself between my legs.
One hand grips my waist, the other pins my hand, interlacing our fingers above my head.
Feeling him at my entrance, I stutter on a breath.
“Let me in, my flower girl. My cock has missed its home,” he says hoarsely, inflaming my desire.
The head slips inside, and my pussy sucks him in greedily, stretching to accommodate his girth. He thrusts inside of me in one delicious go, and bottoming out, my eyes roll back in their sockets—the fullness is maddening, the pleasure is exquisite, and emotions run even higher.
It’s a slow, passionate rhythm as our bodies join, becoming one.
Never losing eye contact and skin on skin, we kiss, making love—unhurried like we have all the time in the world.
“I missed this,” I undulate under him, trailing kisses along his jaw.
“Me too,” he groans, half in pleasure, half in agony.
Our bodies mold together, moving in a sinuous rhythm as we tangle in the sheets.
Every time he rocks his hips, I meet him—thrust for thrust.
He hits the place inside of me that makes me a whimpering mess.
I tremble every time he thrusts inside of me, reaching a place inside of me that drives me feral with rapture. It must feel just as good for him because his chest expands with his groans.
“I’m close,” I moan, my nails scratching down his back, letting myself fall because he’s there to catch me.
He bites into my jaw, stirring another moan from me. His desperation only makes me burn hotter for him.
Pumping into me in a frenzied rhythm, his muscles tense, his breathing becoming fast and shallow. “Come for me, my flower girl.”
Eyes locked and joined in the most intimate way, it feels like we transcend the physical, connecting on the deepest emotional level. A cord threads around our beings, binding our souls. What a surreal experience.
Heart racing, we chase the release, coming together—me on a long cry, he on a groan. The messy and violent explosion offers such a thrilling high.
Our hearts beat a frantic rhythm, and we stay locked in our embrace, catching our breaths.
“Damn, flower girl.”
I giggle in response, and he slips out, his cock glistening with the proof of our lovemaking.
Holding himself on his palms, he kisses my lips, down my jaw, throat, pecking each nipple and lower down the valley of my breasts to my belly button and even lower.
He slaps my thighs open, and our release spills out of me.
“Have you any idea how damn beautiful your pussy looks after I fucked it?” he says, awe laced in his husky voice.
With two fingers, he scoops his cum mixed with my juices up and rubs my pussy lips with it, trailing the sticky liquid over my stomach and over my nipples. He paints me in his cum, branding me as his. His bursts of territorial claims only make me burn hotter for him.
He presses his fingers to his mouth, then to mine. “Taste us together.”
I do, lost in raw carnality, sucking greedily from his fingers the remnants of our release.
He smashes his lips on mine, swiping his tongue over my lips to lick the rest. Just like that, desire blossoms in my belly.
“How do we taste?” he asks through kisses.
“Perfect,” I hum, and there’s no more talking, just us exploring each other.
The clock is ticking. We truly can’t afford to lose even a second.
I don’t know, nor do I care, how much time passes until we satiate this insatiable appetite.
Spent and satisfied, we roll out of bed and take a shower outside.
The view mesmerizes me—this is paradise on earth.
Stars twinkle in the sky, dancing on the surface of the pool as we wash each other. His presence makes it even more dreamy because he is a masterpiece as well, with all those ridges of muscles, carved in flowing strength.
Ian pays attention to every inch of my skin, so I feel utterly pampered. Then he snatches two towels, and, after wrapping me in one, I settle on the bed-like lounge.
He comes back from the villa, holding a bottle of champagne. A loud pop sounds, and he pours the golden, bubbly liquid that overfills the glasses.
We raise our glasses in a toast, and he says, “To us.”
“To us,” I reply, tossing it back.
I lie on his chest, his fingers brushing down my back as we stargaze. I wish we could remain here. Forget about the world and live our love story.
In this moment, it feels like nothing will ever come close to what I experience with him right here and now—a taste of paradise on earth.
When I lift my chin, he’s gazing at me. Our lips find their counterpart in sweet oblivion. Nothing will hurt more than giving this up when we return.