23. Carina
TWENTY-THREE
CARINA
After the week I had, being cuddled in Henrik’s muscular arms was heaven. The cherry on top of the sundae was when he told me he was taking part in the trawler survey too. There was no guarantee that I’d end up on the Brina, but imagining it sent my heart soaring. Then he rocked my world.
Until Henrik, I’d never been kissed, touched, or treated like this.
He is kind and giving, but also aggressive and demanding in the best ways.
We haven’t had sex yet, and I’m excited about that happening, but so far, the kissing and dry humping are keeping me sated.
My favorite part is kissing him. He injects passion into me with every stroke, nip, or suck he makes.
When he pulls back from another steamy kiss, I’m breathless.
Opening my eyes, I see his dark-blue gaze is hooded.
My attention returns to his chest. His olive skin is pulled tight over well-developed muscles, and he has a sparse amount of reddish-blond hair sprinkled across his pecs.
His abs are a work of art, with rough ridges of definition pushing up from his abdominal region.
Is it bad of me to wish the rest of his body wasn’t as perfect?
It’s unfair. As a petite, curvy girl, my stretch marks and the dimples on my thighs aren’t exactly luring the men in.
But what he’s packing? There’s no way to compete.
He is a living god, whereas I’m a hodgepodge of lumps and bumps.
I’ve had years to get used to my shape, and I’m okay with my body.
But it’s not what I want to think about when things feel like they’re about to get exciting.
I make lazy circles on his soft, warm skin with my nail.
“Damn, that feels good.” His tone is low and sexy. “I don’t want this to end, but I didn’t plan to keep you in my bed all day. Are you up for a walk?” he asks.
Disappointed but understanding he has a plan, and sex on the boat apparently isn’t part of it, I say, “Sure.”
It’s mid-afternoon, and the weather is agreeable, so we leave the boat and walk the docks hand in hand.
By dinnertime, we’re back at Henrik’s house and he’s pulling the meal he prepped earlier out of the oven.
“Can I help with anything?” I ask, following him into his kitchen after the timer goes off.
“Nope, I’ve got it all handled,” he answers while pulling the tin-foil-covered pan from the oven.
Sniffing the air, the scent of savory herbs and baked chicken overwhelms my senses. “That smells delicious. I didn’t know you could cook.”
He laughs. “Living on a boat for months out of the year, you learn early on that being able to cook, even basic things, is a saving grace.” I laugh because although what he says is funny, there’s truth to it.
Henrik loads up two plates and then heads to his four-person dining table. He bows with a smirk. “Dinner is served.”
I love the playful side of him. I suspect he doesn’t show it to too many people, and because of that, it makes me feel extraordinary.
“Why, thank you, good sir. It looks and smells delicious.” He shakes his head, and the sound of his deep laugh fills the room.
The heat between us simmers on high throughout dinner.
Every time Henrik looks at me, touches me, or even speaks to me, my desire grows.
But now, being in his space, surrounded by his masculine scent, eating a fantastic meal he prepared, I’m about to lose my composure, drop to my knees, crawl under the table, and get a taste of what I’ve been craving for weeks. Him.
All during dinner, I feel his gaze on me. It’s both incredibly distracting and pleasurable. When I’m finished with my meal, I set my fork across my plate and wipe my mouth. “Thank you for dinner.”
When he stands up, my gaze traces over his tall, massively fit body. My tongue practically wags. Desire invades every pore of my body. It’s so quiet, I can hear myself swallow. Hard.
Henrik clears his throat and, in a gruff tone, says. “I hope you aren’t too full. There’s still dessert. It’s my specialty.” His words sound suggestive, and my body hums with anticipation.
Licking my lips, I look at his crotch and notice the unmistakable bulge. “There’s always room for dessert. It’s my favorite part.”
Leaning down, he kisses my lips. “Mine too,” he says before he straightens. “Let me clean this up and then I’ll show you what I’ve prepared.”
After a quick trip to the bathroom to freshen up, I’m sitting in my chair when he approaches and offers me his hand.
Pulling me to my feet, he presses his mouth to mine and kisses me slowly, stealing my breath.
“Come with me,” he says against my lips.
Holding his hand, I follow him through the house to the stairs.
Although I’ve been here several times in the past few weeks, I’ve never been upstairs.
Grabbing the handrail, my hand slips, and I realize it’s sweaty.
With each step, my anticipation grows. As I think about what’s next, I’m a ball of emotions.
One minute I’m eager, the next nervous. It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone.
When we reach his bedroom, my knees wobble, and I tighten my grip on his hand.
“Are you okay?” he asks. The concern in his deep voice soothes my anxious mind.
Biting my lip, I nod as I take in the masculine room.
“This room is beautiful,” I comment. Just like the rest of his house, the furniture is mahogany.
The king-sized bed frame is a combination of the wood and thick black metal.
It’s covered in a brilliant white duvet and set against a wall in a dark-navy color.
Above it is a gigantic painting depicting a stormy sea.
The various shades of blue in the skilled strokes bring the waves to life. “That painting is stunning.”
“I agree,” he says while he spins me around so I’m facing him. He tips my chin up. “But I didn’t bring you up here to discuss my interior design choices.”
I smirk. “No?”
He shakes his head before he bends down and picks me up. Nuzzling his nose to my ear, he whispers, “I’m ready for my dessert.” The heat of his breath sends a shiver down my spine. My nipples pebble and my body heats. Still wearing my long underwear, I’m desperate to remove the excess layers.
“Too hot,” I whimper.
Setting me down in front of the bed, he grins. “I can take care of that. Arms up.” My center clenches at the desire in his gaze.
Lifting my arms, he grabs all my layers and quickly pulls them over my head, leaving me in a deep-purple bra.
“Holy shit,” he mutters as his fingertip traces the swells of my large breasts.
Once he’s done that several times, causing goose bumps to cover my skin, he skates his finger over my raised nipple and then pinches it.
Oh God. I close my eyes and let out a moan before sucking in a breath.
Henrik takes both hands and cups my breasts, groaning his pleasure.
With a smile, he lets go and moves his hands to the waistband of my pants.
Lowering to a squat, he’s front and center to my weeping core.
“Please,” I beg, and he unbuttons them and then anchors his fingers in the sides of my jeans before pulling them and my long underwear down.
Still on his knees, he works his gaze up and down my almost naked body.
Is this really happening?
I shift my body so my legs look longer and leaner. I arch my back and push out my full breasts. I’m not ashamed of my body. I know what men have told me my best assets are, and I want Henrik to focus on them, not the imperfections I know exist.
“Carina, you are stunning.”
Tentatively, he reaches out and drags his finger down my sternum and around my waist. He traces over my Cousteau tattoo but says nothing.
I close my eyes. His hot breath against my barely covered mound startles me.
Feeling off-kilter, I reach out and balance myself, using his strong shoulders as an anchor.
Reaching around me, he squeezes my ass. “This.” He lightly slaps my flesh.
“Ohh,” I say, feeling the sting of his touch. Wanting to ease the discomfort, he soothes it by rubbing it. gently
“What?” I squeak as he spanks me again. I don’t know whether to scoff, laugh, or moan. That feels oddly nice, though.
Henrik ghosts his lips over my lace-covered pussy and places a kiss on each hip before he orders, “Sit back.” I lower myself to the bed and scoot back.
His next directive comes with his hand on my naked thigh.
Focusing on the spot where we’re connected, I feel the electricity in his touch.
He growls his next command. “Stop right there. Lean back.”
And there is no question. I do exactly what he says. A heady power hangs heavy in the air, luring me into a euphoric state. Instead of being cautious like I should be, I’ve abandoned all sense of reason, giving myself completely to the intoxication of the moment.
The first touch is so subtle, I question whether it was a dream or reality.
I hear him say, “lift gorgeous,” and feel my panties drag down my legs.
Instinctively, I move to close my legs and cover the most private part of me, but Henrik’s growl stops me.
Slowly, I spread my legs. His callused hands drag along my skin.
I gasp as he firmly grips my thighs, and heat blossoms in my core.
My eyes flutter open as he spreads my legs farther apart and grins.
Exposed, I feel vulnerable. I close my eyes right before he trails his fingers through my wet folds.
“You are so beautiful like this,” he breathes out. And before I can process his words, his tongue licks a wet stripe from my entrance to my clit. The cool air tickles my flesh as his warm mouth familiarizes itself with my center.
“Ahh,” I moan as he drags his tongue from back to front. When he reaches my clit again, he tongues it before sucking it between his teeth. The tiny bundle of nerves throbs, and my toes curl. Lost in unfamiliar sensations, I whine when he lifts his mouth from me.
“You taste so sweet,” he mumbles before inserting a finger.
Slowly, he pumps it in and out, readying me.
I groan, and he adds another. “You’re so tight.
” Then he slowly curls his fingers, massaging me internally.
Every time his fingertip rubs against my G-spot, I get wetter.
Pleasure I’ve never experienced before shoots through me, and I arch my back.
“Do you like that, gorgeous?”
Overwhelmed by all the endorphins rushing through my body, I nod and whimper a “Yes.”
“Good,” he growls while continuing his ministrations.
When he lowers his mouth back to my clit and sucks hard, I see fireworks.
An orgasm rips through me, and I release a garbled moan of pleasure as my body tightens around his digits.
When I finally relax, he slips his fingers from me, makes eye contact, and licks them clean.
Whenever I read of a hero doing that in a book, I always cringe.
But here and now, watching Henrik savor the juices he pulled from me, my core tightens, and I’ve never been more turned on.
A smile pulls at my lips. Crawling over me, he dips his face toward to mine. “What’s that smile for, beautiful?”
Tasting myself on his soft lips, I shudder. “That was my first non-clit orgasm,” I admit, my cheeks growing hot under my confession.
He just nods in response. Then, with a devilish expression, he says, “I can promise it won’t be your last.”
“I didn’t know you were cocky.” I smile.
He pulls my lower lip into his mouth and mutters, “Not cocky, gorgeous. Confident.”
Excited about his promise, I sass, “Won’t that be difficult wearing all those clothes?”
Henrik backs off the bed. “Not holding back, huh?” I shake my head.
Just like on the boat, he reaches over his head and pulls off his sweatshirt. So sexy. “I like this sassy version of you. It’s hot as fuck.” He unbuttons his jeans, letting them and his boxer briefs fall to the floor. Standing confidently, his abs flex as he strokes his enormous cock.
Though I saw it and touched it earlier, I didn’t really consider the mechanics of our size difference. But I’m considering them now. “Umm,” I say hesitantly. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a pretty significant size difference between us. I don’t think you’ll fit.”