Chapter Three #2
“Then you are doomed to be disappointed.” He takes my chin and pulls my eyes back to his.
“What happened to Clark was unfortunate.
But ultimately he'll be fine. He'll get the care he needs, recover, and likely forget the accident. But you will, for the rest of your life, think about the one chance you had to see your shark and missed it. You’ll never forget it.”
“Okay.”
It’s all I can manage, and it comes out breathy. But it’s not just his words that affect me. It’s the closeness and the way he looks at me when he speaks. The way his finger leaves my chin to stroke my jaw softly before it drops away.
“We should head back. It’s going to get really cold soon.”
I start to nod when it occurs to me that I’m going to be in the cottage alone. We’ve been using the one with two bedrooms, and as much as I love my privacy, I can’t imagine staying in there alone. Shit, I probably should have thought of that before I agreed to stay behind. “Astrid?”
“I don’t like the idea of staying in the cottage alone,” I say, turning to him. “Do you have a spare room in yours?”
Something sparks in his eyes, but it’s gone before I can look too closely into it. “My cottage is not built for guests. I have a spare bed, a bunk bed, but I don't think you'll—”
“I’ll take it.”
“Don’t agree so quickly, you should probably see the space first.”
“Okay,” I say, but my mind is already made up even as I follow him up to his cottage. Of course, either one of us could suggest that he move to the guest cottage instead of the other way around, but if the thought occurs to him, he doesn't voice it. But then again, neither do I.
It’s a dangerous game I’m playing, I realize as I follow the man into his cottage.
I keep my eyes on his back and those broad shoulders.
He’s a tall man, over six feet tall, with muscles that bulge under his T-shirt.
I place him in his mid-thirties, which would make him a decade, perhaps more, older than my twenty-five years.
“Astrid?”
My head whips up, and I don’t realize I’ve spaced out until his voice pulls me back. “What is it?”
“This is the room,” he tells me. “As you can see, it’s not exactly a comfortable space for someone who’s not used to it. The guest cottage—”
“I’ll stay here,” I cut him off. “With you. I mean…it’s a little smaller than the other rooms, but I’ll feel safer being close to you. I’ll probably be too tired after the excursions to care about comfort anyway, and—”
My words are cut off by his lips on mine.
Maybe later I’ll admit that I was hoping it would happen, but for now, I allow myself to believe that I didn’t see it coming.
That I didn’t notice his eyes darken when we walked into the room or the way those same dark eyes dropped to my lips. No, I didn’t notice any of it.
His hand circles my waist, and I’m pulled flush against a muscular body, warm lips brushing against mine in a soft caress that sends my toes curling and breasts aching behind my sweater.
I whimper, circling his shoulders as I lean into kiss him back, squeezing my aching nipples against his chest. He moans into the kiss, causing my sex to clench violently, pulsing with arousal.
It’s strange. Scary. Exciting.
It’s crazy, and it’s wrong, and…I can’t think.
Not when he backs me to the wall and lifts me, grinding his hips between my legs and pushing me against the wall, pressing his hard erection against my pulsing sex.
I’m trembling when he grips my hips and slowly bumps upwards and against my body, making low noises deep in his throat as he moves.
“You want this,” he grunts, and I can’t tell whether it’s a question or not, and yet, when I don't respond, he pulls back to inspect my face. “Astrid?”
“Yeah,” I say unevenly, licking my lips even as my eyes drop to his mouth, wet and curved so perfectly, just like the rest of him. “I want this. Kiss me.”
This time, it’s me who kisses him. I snake my hand to his back and grip that long braid tightly as I brush my lips over his, chasing the high I felt a moment ago.
There is a voice at the back of my head that's judging me, cursing me for having so little dignity that I’d lean into the touch of a man I hardly know. But I shut it out.
I gasp when he deepens the kiss, his tongue finding mine in a fever of need that sends my toes curling with pleasure. We’re both panting when we break apart for air, and the hungry look in his eyes should scare me.
It does the opposite.
“You feel so good, all soft and warm,” he groans, dipping his face to my neck, and I shudder when his breath caresses my skin.
“And God, the way you smell…” I whimper when a hand snakes underneath my sweater, skimming over my skin before cupping my left breast. “I thought about touching you like this yesterday morning when I bumped into you.” My panties dampen when he yanks down my bra to cup my naked breast. “You weren’t wearing a bra then.
I could see your nipples poking through your shirt, and I ached to touch you. ”
“You did,” I whimper, moving my head to the side as his lips lick over my skin, moving up to nip my ear.
“I wanted to do more than just touch you, Astrid.” His breath is hot in my ear, his hands fevered on my skin. “Let me. Tell me I can have you.”
“You can,” I cry out when he pinches a nipple between his knuckles and tugs, causing my back to bow off the wall. “You can. Anything.”
In one deft move, he shoves off my jacket and then quickly tugs my sweater over my shoulders, tossing it on the top bunk bed.
My bra comes off next, and then his mouth is wrapped around a nipple before my brain can catch up.
He groans against my flesh, sucking my pebbled nipple wetly between his lips, making guttural noises in his throat that remind me of a hungry predator in the woods.
A predator that’s gone several seasons without food and ready to make a meal of me.
Dangerous.
It’s so freaking dangerous to feed the hungry beast, but I am helpless to stop what’s already started. God help me, but I don’t want to stop. I don’t.
“Oh God,” I moan, wrapping the braid around my hand and tugging hard, pulling him to my chest as the hot suction of his lips around my pebbled nipple sends heat pulsing in my core.
I’m wet and achy beyond belief, but there’s no controlling the hungry beast. So I let him take and take, and with every swipe of his tongue over my sensitive flesh, I lose a bit of my senses until I see and feel nothing but him.
“So good,” he groans after releasing my nipple with a wet pop.
“You taste so fucking good, angel. I don’t think I can stop.
” He undoes the button to my jeans and tugs down my zipper before setting me down to pull them free, along with my panties, but then those dark eyes shoot to mine, need written in them, hot and wild.
Feral.
Again, I am reminded of a beast.
“More.”
It's the magic word that sends the beast to his knees right in front of me, in his cottage, with the ocean roaring outside.
When he leans forward and kisses my stomach, I tremble.
Such a gentle touch from a man who looks so close to losing it.
I can practically see the storm brewing in those beautiful eyes of his.
They stay locked on mine as he trails soft kisses over my stomach, moving lower until his breath is brushing the mound of my sex.
I flush when he leans in and presses his nose against my folds, inhaling audibly before letting out a strangled groan.
“You smell so fucking good, Astrid. I bet you taste just as good.” I gasp when he grabs my left leg and settles it onto his shoulder, further exposing me to those hungry eyes. “Fuck, I can’t wait.”
Despite being a virgin, I thought myself knowledgeable about sex. At least the basics. I’ve read about sex and explored my body alone in my bedroom. I thought I understood pleasure.
I was wrong. God, was I wrong.
The sensation that rips through my body takes me by surprise when he buries his tongue between my sodden folds, then drags it through the valley of my sex.
I cry out, my head falling back against the wall as I jolt at the sensation.
His hand grips my thigh before I can move, holding me in place as the tip of his tongue begins to tease my sensitive nub in rough circles.
“Oh God,” I cry out, tugging his hair, and I'm not sure whether I want to push him away or closer.
I choose the latter as I yank him hard against my sex.
He responds with a growl, burying his lips against my sex and wrapping them around my trembling, sensitive clit.
“Erik…yes! Oh!” I lift my hips shamelessly to his mouth, rocking against him as I rub my pulsing sex against his mouth and nose.
His beard chafes my inner thighs and adds to the sensitivity, driving me to madness.
“I want to feel you come on my tongue.” He groans into my sex, flicking his tongue over my clit. “Paint my face with your juices, angel.”
"God," I sob, tightening my fingers in his hair, my head tossed back as I roll my hips frantically over that dirty mouth, wishing, more than anything in this world, to do as he demands. To quench his thirst after being isolated out here for so long. “Oh, God!”
“Do it!”
His mouth suctions around my clit and draws hard, pushing me off the edge.
I scream louder than the crashing waves, as my sex cinches hard, my stomach clenching painfully before releasing in violent shudders.
I whine and sob, rocking against his hot tongue as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through my body.
He doesn’t stop, but instead rakes his tongue through my sex, lapping at every drop of my arousal, drawing out every last shudder until the aftershocks ease.
Then he’s back on his feet, his hand around my waist before I can collapse against the wall. His mouth is on mine and my lagging brain barely registers the sound of his zipper until I feel the hard press of his shaft against my sex, and I stiffen involuntarily.
“Not yet,” he pants into my lips, feeding me the taste of my arousal, and on his tongue, it’s intoxicating. “I’m not going to fuck this pussy. Not yet. I won’t last long, and I don’t want to rush when I finally have you.”
The wet, obscene sound of him working his erection fills the room, and true to his word, he doesn’t last longer than a few strokes.
He buries his face in my neck with a feral growl, making me whimper when he shoots his release over my sex, painting my folds and thighs with his seed.
“Fuuuck!” he growls, pumping harder, and I whimper when he presses his teeth into my skin, hard enough to sting but soft enough not to break skin.
His orgasm sends violent tremors through his body that seem to last forever.
I trace my hand over his back, running soothing strokes over him as he trembles against me until he’s calmed down. Then slowly, my brain begins to catch up with what just happened.
When Erik pushes back to look at my face, the hunger in his eyes seems to wipe any logical thought from my brain, right along with the panic over what I just did. He studies me for a moment before he decides he’s satisfied with what he can read in my eyes.
“So, how do you like the room?”
A laugh bubbles in my throat at the absurd question. He meant to lighten the mood, I see that. And it only endears him to me. I know better than to feel anything more for this stranger, but a small part of my heart opens up.
“I like it just fine. I’m staying.”
With how I’m feeling, I couldn't make myself leave if the island decided to sink to the depths of the ocean. I'm staying. With him. At least for the next seven days.
One week, that’s how long we have together. It’ll serve me well to remember that!