Shelby #4
The beach was empty. A family a little further down, but otherwise it was just us and the occasional dog walker who ventured along the sand, their footprints the only reminders they were here until the ocean also took those away.
But it wouldn’t have mattered if there were hundreds of people around us, because with his body encasing my own, it was only him, me and the ocean.
And when he unexpectedly brushed my wet hair over to one side and placed three kisses in the crook of my neck, anything even close to reality melted away.
My ear dropped to my shoulder, giving him space to continue.
My grip on his arms tightened, his hold around my waist pulling firm, only when a wave came a few minutes later, he loosened his grip, moving his hands to my hips so when I jumped, my whole body slid up and down the length of him.
I felt his chest vibrate through my entire body and my nipples formed taut peaks.
God.
I grabbed onto his hands and followed their path as they slowly moved from my hips, down my thighs, before returning to grip my waist, lifting me over the next wave.
The glide back down his body was salacious, finishing with a press of his hips into my backside, the effect of this oceanic dance on him obvious.
He held me firm ensuring I couldn’t escape, and with each jump, he moved his hands to somewhere new.
“Tell me to stop,” his voice was rough and pleading, his hands contradictorily resting just below my chest, waiting for me to halt whatever this was. Only I wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
Taking hold of his hands, I placed them over my heavy breasts and pushed my hips back into that thick cock I’d been thinking about way more than I had any right.
“Never,” I breathed, and with another jump of the wave, he lowered us back into the water, a growl rumbling in him and his hands now a ferocious flurry across my skin.
He brushed up and down my thighs, skirting around where I wanted him most, before grazing my chest through my cozies, only stopping to grip my hips and lift me above the water before grinding me back down his body, a little firmer each time .
The feel of him pressing into me from behind only increased my need and I reached down grazing my own hands across the material of his swim shorts, wrapping around his back to hold him firm.
The feel of his mouth against my neck was electric and when he simultaneously sucked my skin and finally brushed his fingers across my pussy, I moaned.
I felt the tight rigidity of his body, the change of his touch, the passion in the increased pressure.
His fingers dipped beneath the elastic trim of my swimwear and within seconds, he was exactly where I wanted him, his finger teasing my swollen clit. His other hand was splayed against my stomach, his feet still lifting us over each gush of water as he increased the movements of his hand.
“Fuck, your pussy feels too fucking good,” his deep voice held a rasp which made my eyes roll back and my legs open wider.
“ You feel too fucking good,” I confessed, although it didn’t feel like an admission so much as an unleashing. I’d done a terrible job hiding my attraction for him and under his touch, I was putty.
Malleable.
His to do as he pleased.
And I was a happy little piece of playdough, ready to be played with.
Any fears of being in the ocean were squashed as the strap of my swimwear was pulled down and he was massaging my chest with one hand, the other vigorously moving between my legs.
Every single part of my body was awake, alive, climbing.
Everything adding to the intensity of my pleasure.
The water running up and down my chest, the feel of his thighs under my grip, his lips whispering praise and pleasure against my neck.
The flick of his touch against my nipple before moving to the other with the perfect amount of pressure.
And when he pressed a finger inside me and used the palm of his hand to grind against my clit, I was a goner.
The forbidden hunger of our bodies as we again crossed every line we’d ever made, blurring the lines of our friendship, was too much to ignore.
He called for me in ways no one ever could or would and my instinct was to respond.
Unabashedly, I pulled him into me, rocking his arousal against my arse as every jump up against the water brought me closer to release.
“Oh, jeez, I’m close already,” I panted, reaching down to grip his wrist working me to climax.
The strength of his hands was heaven under my own, my fingers grabbing his shorts in a knot as I unabashedly brought him against me in quick thrusts.
My moans were low enough that the crash of the waves washed them back out to sea, but his praise in my ear would forever remain in my memory.
“Feel so fucking good,” he groaned, and the smoky scrape to his words was enough to send me over the edge and I shattered underneath his merciless touch.
My hand again reached for his, feeling his strength as he slowed his movements, his kisses lighter yet somehow deeper against my skin.
I floated back to the ocean, my breathing still ragged and my grasp still firmly holding him against me as if when I opened my eyes, this bubble would burst. And I wasn’t quite ready to let go.
“What’s your colour?” He righted my swimwear but continued to hold me firm.
“ Sky blue with glitzy gold ,” I rasped, still trying to catch my breath “Yours?”
“ Bittersweet shimmer ,” he replied, and I wondered if that was a reflection of the raging hard-on I could still feel in his pants or if it went deeper.
“I could try and change your colour to cerise ,” I teased with a scrape of nails along his thighs.
He laughed, easily manoeuvring us up and over the waves but reached for my hands to stop me going further.
“Shelbs,” his plea held an undercurrent of nostalgia.
“I can’t help myself when I’m with you.” His melancholy gave me pause and before either of us even realised, I’d flipped myself around to face him.
I wrapped my arms around his neck to steady myself and as expected, the crease of his brow held an element of sorrow.
“So don’t,” I consented, before brushing my lips against his tenderly. I wanted to slip my tongue into his mouth and writhe against him, already aching to have him again, but he was in his head, and I didn’t want any rash decision to further complicate things.
Was he struggling with the uncertainty and ambiguity of our impulsive relationship?
A pivot which felt years in the making but sudden all the same?
He despised the unpredictable, so maybe he was wondering what would happen when I went home, and we were nine thousand miles apart in different time zones - most of the time on a different day.
And despite doing my best to ignore those thoughts and wonderings, it was starting to creep up on me too.
My life was transient. Never something I needed to plan.
The candles gave me more than enough to keep me going, my expenditure was low, and my social life was practically non-existent, unless you counted colouring-in with a set of characters each week as I binged another new TV show.
And other than Blake, and the few clients who collected their orders, I didn’t see many people.
But Corbin was busy, and his life was more stable. An unplanned complication probably the last thing he needed.
His grip still held me firmly, just like he always had in a metaphoric sense.
Emotionally I knew he was only a call or message away, but having him beside me now, filled a physical ache I didn’t even realise was present.
If returning to Australia and scattering my parents across this gorgeous land sent splinters through my heart, Corbs was right there, filling them as fast as they formed.
There was no doubt being here over the last few weeks had changed me.
Changed us.
And not just because of the monumental reasons behind the trip, but because it afforded us an opportunity to get to know each other on a level we never had before.
We were no longer children vying for five more minutes of play before the other had to go home, all decisions in the hands of someone older and wiser.
The decisions were ours now which meant we also wore the consequences, although, it was hard to remember all of those things when his scent wrapped around me and I could feel him rigid against my needy centre.
Or worry about the future heartache I knew was coming when I boarded a flight and left him again.
Because under the press of my mouth against his and his hands on my hips while we swayed in the shallows of the water, I felt his body soften. Relent.
And I knew the second I felt his acceptance with a subtle nod of his head, as if he too was tired of fighting.
I spoke against his mouth, brushing the salty water spray from his forehead before it ran into his eyes. “Can we just be? Do what feels natural and the rest can wait?”
Be us.
Be this.
Be everything.
I thought but didn’t dare say aloud.
His eyes flickered as I again smoothed his brows with my thumbs, imploring him to trust me, to trust us and whatever this connection was. It might not be there tomorrow. It might not need to be. But for now, it was there, and I needed him.
“You’ve always been the most natural thing in my world, Shelbs,” he said with his infamous smirk, his concern still lingering behind his soft smile.
“Thank you,” I met his grin. We stayed like that for a while, his arms wrapped around my waist anchoring me to him while we were lost in our thoughts. And it was only as we eventually made our way to stand on the shore, the white water of the waves running around our ankles that he spoke.
“Okay,” he nodded, his decision made. “Let’s just be,” he agreed, before pulling me in for a kiss which made the subtle push and pull of the ocean feel like a gentle echo of our own rhythm – unstoppable, endless, and evermore.