10 #2
“Ace—” I gasp, and I know I can’t take much more.
One more deep suck, and I’m done.
I rasp his name as an orgasm so intense, and so fucking beautiful, rips through me.
I don’t know how I don’t crumple to the ground, and I know if he wasn’t holding me up, I probably would.
It’s a feeling so deep, so intense that it travels through every nerve ending, making it feel as though the world actually stops for a moment.
“Fuck, Gracie,” he hums against my skin when I stop gasping and trembling.
“Yeah,” I finally croak. “Fuck.”
“If you weren’t so fuckin’ exhausted, you’d be fuckin’ shocked by the things I would do to you right now.”
I’m shaking, legs useless, but I pull him up and wrap my arms around his neck before biting his lower lip. Hard. “Try me.”
He laughs—God, that sound—and I barely register that my hands are trembling.
I want to tell him I missed him, but it’s not the right word.
I want to tell him I love him, but that’s not right, either.
Nothing in this moment feels quite right, but I do know that standing here, in his arms, makes everything clear.
I am wholeheartedly and desperately in love with this man.
I don’t know how long we stand there, just pressing our foreheads together, bodies wrapped around the other, but eventually the rusted pipes whine and the water pressure drops, cold shock splashing between us.
I shriek and jump out of the stream, slipping on the wet floor, but Ace’s arms are faster and he manages to catch me before I slide all the way down.
“Guess that means our shower is up,” he murmurs, opening the small door and letting me step out. “Doesn’t mean I am finished with you, though.”
I bite my lower lip and he steps out, taking a towel and wrapping me in it. He presses his mouth to my shoulder, and just holds me there for a second. I want to stay in that second forever, locking it in a jar, so I can let it out on the nights when the world feels as though it’s ending.
Tonight isn’t one of those nights, but we never know what tomorrow will bring.
All I know is that right now, right here in this tiny shower, I am completely content.
ACE’S DICK SLIDES IN and out of me in a way that feels borderline torturous.
Like he is enjoying my squirming, my begging, my gasps of pleasure as he plunges into me before slowing down again.
The man has stamina unmatched. In this room, we have been for what feels like hours, tangled in each other, our bodies wrapped together as we find every surface we can to fuck on.
Slowly, I have ridden his cock and watched the muscles in his chest jump and tense as his fingers dig into my hips.
Hard, he has fucked me, my body bent over the desk, bottom on display as he drives his cock in and out, until I’m crying his name.
Now it’s gentle, almost passionate.
His body over mine, fingers tangled in my hair, mouth on mine.
I breathe hard, chest rattling against his as he finally slides his cock all the way in.
Deep, like he wants to leave a part of himself inside me forever.
I arch up, back bowing, arms getting twisted above my head by his big hands.
He holds me there, splayed out, as he starts to move—slow, then fast, then slow again, like he’s trying to memorise every pulse inside my body.
He kisses me as he fucks me, gasping my name into my mouth, teeth dragging over my lips, hands never stopping their rough worship.
It shouldn’t feel this good, not after months of rage and misery, but when he’s inside me nothing else exists.
Just his hips pressing full and hard against me, pinning me to the bed, fucking me so deep I become one long, desperate whimper.
I find what would have to be my fourth release before him.
I don’t have the energy to scream, but it feels just as good, if not better, than all the rest.
My shuddering takes a while to die down, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing his gentle lovemaking, his jaw tight, and I know he is close to the end, too.
When the pace picks up, and I feel his body tense, I know he has found it.
I take a moment to truly watch him, to relish the way his mouth drops open just a little, and his moan is raspy and thick.
Arms tensing, then releasing as his muscles flex.
He’s the most beautiful man I have ever seen, looking down at me, all bronzed skin and sun-kissed hair.
The island life suits him, the long unkempt look makes him edgier, even more dangerous.
Throw in the tattoos, and he is the ultimate bad boy. Yes, this man is perfection.
His cock pulses, and his breath is warm against my face as he finally lets go, dropping down onto me, holding his weight with his elbows and slowing his thrusts until he is simply dragging his dick in and out, waiting for the pleasure to die down.
Then, his mouth is on mine, a gentle, warm kiss that is deep and unwavering.
My hand cups his cheek, beard scratchy against my palm, as I return that kiss.
I wonder to myself, does he feel this as deeply as I do?
The answer to that question scares me.
Because what if this is just some fantasy, a tormented story about a group of people forced to fight for survival, but when reality comes back, will it still feel the same?
“I missed you,” I whisper, because it’s the only way I can express just how everything feels right now.
He buries his face in my throat. “Me too, baby.”
He rolls me to my side, keeping me in his arms, and we lie like that, clinging, until the aftershocks fade and our heartbeats start to slow. My head nestles against his chest, breaths evening out to match his.
Then, of course, my stomach betrays me.
A loud, angry grumble erupts, so loud it vibrates against him, and I’m mortified.
Ace chuckles, low and throaty as he pulls back and looks at me. “Hungry, sweet pea?”
“Starving,” I admit. “Like, actually, I think I might die...”
He grins, then rolls away from me, stands, and pulls on his pants.
“Where are you going?” I ask, stretching.
“To feed my woman,” he winks, then disappears out the door.
He is gone maybe ten minutes, and comes back into the room with an armful of items and a half-smirk on his face. “Close your eyes and open your mouth.”
I prop up on my elbows. “What? Why?”
He gives me a look. “Trust me, baby.”
God, as if I can say no when he talks like that.
I playfully sigh and do it. Eyes closed, lips parted. Suddenly, something sweet and impossibly perfect is set on my tongue. I clamp down and taste it—silky, creamy, melty.
“Chocolate!” I gasp, opening my eyes wide.
He winks and gives me another piece.
I moan, and I mean really moan. I let the chocolate dissolve in my mouth, milking every second, every tiny melt of sugar and cocoa butter as if it’s the last candy on earth. It might be. Hell, we don’t know what the next chapter brings for us. We could capsize out here and...
Ace, thankfully, cuts off my spiralling thoughts by handing me a protein bar. Cookies and cream flavoured. What pirate eats a cookies and cream protein bar?
I’m not complaining.
I tear it open, bite off a chunk and nearly sob at the taste of chocolate and cookies and something that isn’t fucking fish or island fruit.
As if enjoying my rather intense reactions, Ace hands me an apple and a tin of orange soda.
Oh.
My.
God.
Yes.
I take a bite of the apple as he cracks the soda, and then I chug it like a woman possessed. The fizz is sharp, a spike of pure joy in the back of my throat. When I finally stop, I press the can to my forehead, eyes shut, and just bask in this feeling.
Ace watches me with an affection so deep it nearly undoes me. There’s that softness again, tempered at the edges by that wild, cracked Ace who’d break a man’s jaw for one of my tears.
When we have both had our fill of food, he crawls back under the blankets.
I roll to him, without hesitation, burrowing against his chest, the world squeezed out to a single point of warmth and breath and his heartbeat under my ear.
Neither of us can fight it much longer.
In seconds, we’re both asleep.
Safe and warm.
Like a fucking miracle.