Chapter 21 #2
"Honey, come," Papa tried again, but she just pressed closer to me, her whole body language screaming that she wasn't going anywhere.
I looked at Wade, uncertain, and amusement danced in his eyes.
"Honey can stay," he addressed Papa directly. "For as long as Marie wants her here, she's welcome."
"You sure?" Papa looked between Wade and the dog, who was now sitting firmly at my feet. "She might…” He looked back at the estate, “Destroy everything.”
"Whatever she does is fine,” Wade seemed amused. "Marie wants her here, that's all that matters."
I smiled and bent down to hug Honey properly. "You're staying with me, baby. You're staying here in this fancy mansion, you hear that?”
Papa smiled, warm and knowing, then headed back toward the estate to collect his things. Wade walked him to the deck, and I watched them talk quietly before Papa left with one last wave in my direction.
Then it was just Honey and me in the endless blue water.
I waded deeper without really thinking, letting the water rise from my knees to my thighs to my waist. My pink skirt floated around me, the fabric going transparent where it touched the water.
I just wanted to float, to feel the sun and the freedom of swimming in the ocean without anyone stopping me.
Honey followed me out, paddling beside me with her nose held high above the water, and I laughed, watching her determined little face. "You're such a good swimmer, Honey.”
I heard splashing behind me, heavier, and then Wade's hands were on my waist, spinning me around and pulling me flush against him. His clothes were soaked now, his shirt clinging to his chest in a way that was definitely distracting, and his eyes were dark with a possessive look.
"Are you trying to swim away from me, darling?" His voice was low, teasing, but I heard the real question underneath. The need to know I wasn't leaving, wasn't running, wasn't done with whatever this was between us.
"No," I answered quickly, my hands coming up to his chest where I could feel his heartbeat through the wet fabric. "Never. I wanted to feel the water, to feel free."
"Then feel it." His hands slid from my waist to my thighs, and suddenly he was lifting me, my legs wrapping around his hips as he walked us both deeper into the water. "But feel it with me."
The water rose around us until it was at his torso, lapping at my hips where my legs were wrapped around him. Honey, apparently satisfied that I wasn't going anywhere dangerous, paddled back toward shore and collapsed in the warm sand, leaving us alone in the blue expanse.
Wade's hands held me firmly, one supporting my back, the other beneath me, and I could feel every muscle against me through our wet clothes. His chest solid against mine, his breath warm on my hair, his eyes tracking over my features.
"I love this,” I admitted, because I needed him to know. "I love it so much it scares me."
"Don't be scared." His hand moved from my back to cup my face, his thumb stroking across my cheekbone. “You deserve it, darling.”
Then he kissed me slowly and deeply, his mouth claiming mine. His lips moved, coaxing my own open, his tongue sliding against mine and making me forget everything except the taste of him and the feeling of being held.
I kissed him back with everything I had—five years of touch starvation, five days of falling in love, everything I felt but couldn't put into words.
My hands moved from his chest to his neck to his hair, fingers tangling in the strands, holding him to me like I could merge us together if I just tried hard enough.
His hand tightened on my thigh, pulling me closer, and I felt the evidence of his arousal pressed against me. The knowledge that just kissing me in the ocean was enough to make him hard sent heat flooding through me.
We kissed until I was breathless and dizzy, until my lips were swollen and my body was humming with need. Until the water around us felt hot instead of warm, and I'd forgotten what it was like to not be touching him.
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard, and his hands slid up my sides. "You have no idea what you do to me, darling. Absolutely no idea."
"I think I have some idea," I replied breathlessly, shifting slightly against the hard length pressed between us. I heard his sharp intake of breath.
"Careful," he warned, his voice rough with want. "Or I'm going to take you right here in the water where anyone with a boat could see."
The threat sent heat south, made me clench, and I saw him realize how much that idea affected me.
"You like that?” he asked, not quite a question. “The idea of being taken somewhere you could be seen? My naughty girl."
I flushed, embarrassed and aroused in equal measure. "Maybe? I don't know. I've never…”
"I know, darling." He kissed my temple, gentle despite the desire I could feel thrumming through him. "And we'll explore all of that together, but not today. Today, I just want to hold you in the water and kiss you until we're both stupid from it."
"I'm already stupid from it," I admitted, and he smiled against my hair.
"Good. Then let's get even more stupid."
He kissed me again, taking his time to explore my mouth like he had all day, like there was nowhere else he needed to be except right here. His hands roamed my back, my sides, my thighs, touching everywhere he could reach while keeping me against him.
One hand slid up my ribs, and my breath caught in anticipation. His palm moved higher, cupping my breast through the wet fabric of my top, and I gasped into his mouth at the contact.
My top was thin, soaked through, and I could feel every ridge of his palm against my nipple as he squeezed gently.
"Fuck, you feel good," he murmured against my lips, his hand kneading my breast with possessive pressure. “I can feel how hard your nipples are through this wet cloth, my darling girl."
I whimpered, arching into his touch, and he smiled against my mouth before kissing me deeper. His tongue swept against mine in the same rhythm as his hand on my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers through the fabric, alternating between gentle and just rough enough to make me squirm.
His other arm stayed wrapped around me, holding me secure, but he shifted, adjusting his grip so he could slide me down his body. The movement pressed my core directly against the hard length straining through his wet pants, and the friction made us both moan.
“So sweet,” he breathed, his hand tightening on my breast as he rocked me against him deliberately. "Feel what you do to me, darling. How hard you make your daddy."
I was soaked from the ocean and from the way he was touching me. I could feel everything through our wet clothes, and each rock of our hips made pleasure spark through me in waves.
"Wade—daddy,” The word fell out naturally. "Please,” I whimpered.
“You want more?” His hand moved from one breast to the other, giving it the same attention while he controlled the rocking of my hips against him. "Tell daddy you want more.”
"More." I couldn't form coherent words when he was touching me like this. I just needed more of everything—more friction, more pressure, more of him.
He kissed me harder, making me lose my mind. The water around us made every movement more intense, and I could feel myself getting close embarrassingly fast.
“Feeling so good, aren’t you?” he murmured against my lips, reading my body perfectly. "Getting close already from just grinding on daddy in the ocean."
His hand slid from my breast down between us, and he adjusted the angle, pressing his thumb right where my clit was through the soaked fabric. The pressure combined with the rocking motion was everything, and I broke the kiss to gasp against his neck.
"Look at me," he commanded, and I forced my eyes to his through the haze of pleasure threatening to pull me under.
Pale blue. His eyes were the palest blue I'd ever seen, like ice or the winter sky, something ethereal that shouldn't exist in the warm Caribbean. They were locked on mine and made me feel like the only person in the world, as if nothing else existed except him and me.
I could see the desire there, dark and hungry despite the lightness of the color; I could see how his pupils had dilated wide until there was barely any blue left.
His face was so handsome. The sharp angles of his jaw, the elegant slope of his nose, the lines around his eyes that came from forty-seven years of living. It was fifteen more than I'd had. He was older, experienced, and powerful in ways I was only beginning to understand.
And he was looking at me like I was his entire world. Like making me feel good was the most important thing he'd ever done. Like my pleasure was more valuable than anything else he could be doing with his time, resources, or attention.
"Eyes on daddy when you come," he repeated, his voice rough with want but steady with command. “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers.”
I nodded frantically, unable to speak or barely breathe. I kept my eyes locked on his while his thumb worked circles against my clit and his other hand squeezed my breast. His hips rocked up to meet mine, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
The pressure built and built, spiraling tighter with every circle of his thumb, every rock of his hips, every squeeze of his hand on my breast. But I kept my eyes on his—on those pale blue jewels that kept me present, making sure I felt every second of this instead of disappearing somewhere inside my head.
"Come for me, darling," he ordered, his voice dropping to that tone that made every nerve ending stand at attention. "Let daddy see how good you’re feeling.”
I came while looking into his eyes, my whole body tensing and then releasing in waves while his gaze took in every flutter of my lashes, every gasp that fell from my lips.
I could see my pleasure reflected in his face—the satisfaction, the possessiveness, the pure masculine pride at reducing me to this trembling, shuddering mess in his arms. I saw love and a promise that this was just the beginning.
When I finally came back, trembling against him, he was smiling and still obviously hard against me. There was a certainty that I was his, that he was mine, and that this man who was fifteen years older and more experienced had somehow chosen me.
"Beautiful," he murmured, finally releasing my gaze to press a soft kiss to my lips. "Absolutely stunning when you come, darling. I could watch that every day for the rest of my life."
"What about you?" I asked breathlessly, my eyes still caught by his, by the way the blue had gone even darker with unfulfilled desire. "You're still hard.”
"I am.” His hand caught my hip, stilling the movement before I could work him up more. “But this was for you. To show you that I can make you feel good anywhere, anytime. That your pleasure is what matters most to me."
And looking into those eyes that held so much certainty, so much care, so much absolute devotion, I believed him completely. This man was mine, and I was his.