8. Eight
Five Years Ago
“You keep looking at me like that and we won’t make it to dinner,” I say, catching Zander’s bold gray gaze devouring me while I apply a coconut-flavored lip balm to my lips as I look at my reflection in the mirror across from the bed in our villa.
He looks incredible, lounging on the bed in casual linen shorts and a short-sleeve shirt. His wardrobe changed quickly once we arrived, and I haven’t seen the business casual since. I cap the lip balm and return it to the toiletries bag that has been neglected. I haven’t been wearing any makeup since we arrived. I haven’t needed to. We’ve been in the water, diving or snorkeling, or here in the villa, fucking or lazing around together as we get to know each other. But the lip balm is a necessity with all the sun, sea, and kissing.
“Maybe I want dessert first,” he says, coming up behind me and untying the beautiful sarong from my hips that I received from the island host when we arrived. “And I’m willing to be late for dinner to make sure I get it.”
I laugh, because we’re the only occupants on this island, and the small restaurant on the other side will stay open and have dinner ready for us whenever we decide to make our way over there.
“Do you find dessert funny, Lowe?” he asks, slipping in the new nickname he adopted yesterday just as easily as he slips his fingers into my bikini bottoms and strokes me.
I sigh at his touch as my eyes flutter. “I think you’re funny, Zander.” I wish that his name had a shorter derivative, and there was something I could call him that would be just mine, the way he so easily found one for me. It’s so intimate. I’ll have to work on that.
He’s pulling on the strings of my bikini bottoms now, slowly untying one side, then the other, rather than dragging them down my legs, which would be easier. But in the three days we’ve been here, I’ve discovered Zander doesn’t do easy. He does his way, and that is usually hard. My bikini falls to the floor and Zander kneels behind me, his hands skimming up my legs and parting them wider, so I’m forced to hop out a few steps to accommodate where he wants to be. His breath is hot against my ass as he traces his lips across the swell of each cheek. I’m wet just from the anticipation of what I know will happen, a shiver running through my body.
“Look at this sweet cunt dripping for me. Such a needy little thing. Bend over and put your hands flat on the mirror. I want you to watch as I eat out this greedy pussy from behind until you come all over my face.”
I close my eyes and shudder at his words, but I do as he says, bending at the hips and placing my hands on the mirror in front of me. My pussy squeezes tight at the sight of our reflection, him kneeling behind me, catching his intense gaze over the swell of my heart-shaped ass.
“Such a good girl. And Harlowe,” he says, getting my attention again. “Keep your eyes on me. You need to watch me, honey. And you better fucking scream my name when you come.”
“Make me,” I taunt, knowing full well he is capable of delivering on any promise he makes when it comes to my pleasure.
“You better brace yourself, little Wildcat,” he growls.
That should have been enough warning. I should know by now the force he is capable of. But when Zander spears his tongue into my pussy, I yelp and try to pull away. Not because it’s bad, but because it’s too damn good, and I’m too sensitive. We’ve had sex countless times since we arrived, and it somehow keeps getting better. But my body is hypersensitive, and he’s aware of it, for better or worse.
Zander laps at my entrance, fucking his tongue in and out. I didn’t know a tongue could do that and it would feel like… fuuuuck. My hips buck away again, completely out of my control. Zander swiftly traps my thighs with one strong arm, keeping me in place before moving his tongue to my clit, flattening and swirling it tightly over my sensitive nub. Now I’m moaning, my fingers clawing against the mirror without finding any purchase.
“You taste so fucking good,” he growls, his words humming against me and making me shiver.
Zander slides two fingers inside of me, releasing me from the onslaught of his damn talented tongue, and I suck in a breath while I can. He leisurely strokes those thick fingers in and out and I relax into the familiar sensation, moaning with how good it feels. I feel my release start to build from that perfect pressure he is using.
My eyes fly open as he bites one of my ass cheeks hard enough that I’ll probably have a mark. At the same time, the fingers that are around my thighs strum at my clit with brutal efficiency, knowing exactly how much pressure I need. I make a strangled noise caught somewhere between a yelp and a moan as the pleasure and the pain mix, and I catch his eye in the mirror where he is looking over my hip, his gray eyes locked on my face in the mirror.
“You weren’t watching me, Lowe. Your eyes were closed. Only good girls who follow my orders get to come. Bad girls get their asses marked. I’ll pull these slick fingers out and spank it red, next time.”
“Bastard,” I barely manage to rasp.
He hasn’t stopped the delicious circling of his fingers on my clit while his others pump inside of me just right. He’s curling into my G-spot with each thrust. When he hears the catch in my voice, he thrusts a little harder, ramming the base of his knuckles against the entrance of my pussy in a way that threatens to have my eyes rolling back in ecstasy, but he wants me looking at him, so I manage just a flutter of my lashes before I return my hazy gaze to him.
“So fucking responsive. Look at you, dripping down my arm, making a mess of me, baby. But I want all of this sweet juice on my face. You’re going to come for me, fill my mouth with you, got it?”
“Zander,” I moan, letting my head fall down between my outstretched arms that are shaking from bracing against the mirror.
“That’s right, you’re going to scream my name when you come. I can feel you getting close. I’m greedy for your orgasms. I want them all.” His words are a growl as he presses his mouth back against my pussy, his fingers sliding out and his tongue moving to my entrance as he continues to circle my clit, faster and harder now.
My hips buck into him, and he takes it, his hands and mouth working so well together I have no idea what is going on despite being able to see it all. I just know I can feel a toe-curling orgasm building at the base of my spine, stiffening my body and freezing the breath in my lungs as he continues his work on my pussy. When it finally washes over me, I scream his name, my hips bucking against his face, my legs shaking, and a feeling of utter relief coursing through me. I barely manage to keep my eyes open while Zander maintains eye contact with me in the mirror, somehow, from his spot between my legs where he has just annihilated me.
A moment later, he stands and sweeps me up into his arms, walking me across the room to the bed. He lays me out, kissing me while I can still taste myself on his face. He leaves my mouth and positions me just so—arms above my head, legs spread wide—while I come down from the orgasm he tore from my body, and stay docile, languid. For now.
“Such a fucking gorgeous picture of perfection.”
I roll my head and see him removing his shirt and shorts. I stretch and roll to my side so I can take him in better.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I return.
Zander is hot as hell and incredibly fit. The definition of tall, dark, and handsome could have a picture of Zander and need no other explanation. Tanned skin, even features, stunning storm cloud gray eyes framed by thick, dark lashes, and at least six-foot-three, so he’s tall enough for me to wear heels and not tower over him. His shoulders are broad, chest and abs sculpted, back defined, and legs strong. But he’s not bulky like a guy who spends all of his time in the gym to get that physique. He’s the kind of fit that is built by his hobbies and activities. We’ve been swimming and diving and running around for days and the man doesn”t stop. He’s a force of nature that is just waiting to see what he can accomplish next.
And from the look on his face now, I’m next.
I roll to my knees and sit up, pulling the hem of my tank top up and over my head and tossing it on the floor at Zander’s feet.
“Did I say you could move from where I put you?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest, cock straining in front of him.
“Did I say I would be your little fuck doll you could position just so to be compliant and take your cock when you wanted?” I volley back, slipping the ties of my bikini top off to free my breasts, which feel heavy and in need of his hands. “If you want this,” I purr, gesturing at my body, “crawl to me, like a good boy.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and widen my legs invitingly. Two can play at this little game. If he wanted to demand I keep my eyes on him while he ate me out from behind, he can get on his fucking knees again and crawl for me now.
“Fuck,” Zander growls.
He looks torn for a moment between wanting to maintain control and wanting to relinquish it to get what I’m offering. But eventually, he realizes it’s all just a game, and his smile returns as he drops to his knees for me. He maintains direct eye contact, those gray eyes challenging me with each movement of his powerful body as he manages to slink across the floor like a jungle cat until he’s in front of me.
“That’s it, Zand, just like that,” I tell him appreciatively, as his hands slide up my legs and he rises.
“You like me on my knees at your feet, ready to worship you, Lowe?” His words are a sexy taunt mere inches from my mouth as he bends over me.
“I like you anywhere with me, but that will do. Now, are you going to fuck me, or are we going to dinner?”
He palms my breasts, pressing them together, and I arch into his touch. “You’re a little brat.”
I shrug, unfazed, and smile coyly at him. “I’ve been called worse.”
His hands still. “I’ll kill anyone who says anything worse.” He”s suddenly more serious than he’s been since we arrived on the island. “No one has the right to speak badly of someone this… fucking… amazing,” he says, placing kisses on each of my nipples in turn as he speaks. His focus returning to sex means he wasn’t that serious about his comment.
Besides, I don”t think it’s worth the total buzzkill to go into the endless times the opposite has been true, so instead, I wrap a leg around his hip and roll us so I’m straddling his hips. I’m now within reach of the bowl of condoms we keep on the nightstands flanking the bed for easy access, and I grab one, opening it and easily slipping it on him.
“I think I’d like to ride you before dinner. Watching you crawl to me got my horse kink going,” I joke, and we both laugh.
“That would be called pony play, which is why I know you don’t actually have that kink,” Zander says, grabbing the base of his cock and holding it upright for me. “But, fuck yes, you can ride me anytime.”
I scoot up until he’s notched at my opening and inch down until the head is inside me, my head rolling back at the delicious way I have to stretch to accommodate his girth. I have to lift and adjust several times before he is able to press in.
“That’s a good girl. You can take me,” Zander says, his hands heavy on my hips, pressing my body down on him as I whimper. “Your body was made for my cock. Just a little more, baby.” Finally, he’s all the way inside of me and I pant in relief. “Fuck, you feel so good, Lowe.”
He’s certainly the biggest man I’ve slept with, and it takes a moment to adjust each time, but damn, does he fill me perfectly, and hit every spot just right. It doesn’t matter if I bounce up and down like I’m recreating a porno or if I rock my hips back and forth, it always feels good, and he always gets me off, which hasn’t been true for those other men.
I start rocking my hips and place my hands on Zander’s thighs behind me for balance. He takes the opportunity this presents and palms my breasts, taking his sweet time to weigh each round globe in his hands. He runs his fingers across my skin and rolls my nipples in his fingers, pulling each tight bud once they are straining at his touch, eliciting gasps from me. I feel the sensation zing through my body—a lightning bolt sent straight to my pussy—and my orgasm hits me out of nowhere, startling us both at the intensity as I clamp down on him and shout in ecstasy.
“Fuck,” I swear, folding forward as the waves rush over me and I continue to scream my release as Zander pinches my nipples. “Too much,” I finally beg, covering his hands with my own and forcing them away as my orgasm abates. I’m sweating, my chest heaving, and he has a delighted smile on his face like he just got a new toy.
“That’s fun,” he says in awe, sitting up and pulling me tighter to his body, hands possessive and roaming. “Your nipples are an on button for your clit.” He bends his head and his lips meet my neck, kissing along my skin until he finds a spot on my neck that has me shivering in his arms and my pussy clenching him again in little aftershocks.
“I’m not some machine you can turn on or off at will, you psycho,” I say on a breathy exhale, but there isn”t much rebuke in my tone. I didn’t even know that about my body. I’ve had my boobs played with, of course, and my nipples, too, but it’s never felt like that.
Zander continues kissing along my skin and moving me in his lap, finding all of my erogenous spots, capturing my moans with his mouth, and proving he’s in control of this session no matter who is on top.
I’ve never been this responsive with anyone else before. There’s something about the draw Zander has on me, the physical connection we obviously have together, that has our bodies so in tune. And he’s more than aware of it. Like right now, as his talented fingers work their way back to my breasts and stroke over my nipples, until they are tight peaks he can pluck, and set me off again. I buck wildly against him as the release surges through me, leaving me panting from the power of it. He holds me tightly through the waves, thrusting his hips into me as it continues. My fingers thread through his hair and wrap around his strong shoulders, finding my own way to stay grounded.
“You feel so fucking good,” he rasps into my neck. “I love when you come for me. Three now. How many more can I get from you, Lowe? I want your pussy clenching my cock until you’re a shaking mess, begging to stop.”
“I’m not above begging, but it’s for more,” I gasp, wanting to even the playing field, just a little bit.
But he’s keeping score, and he’s winning. Through the frenzied lust we’ve felt and our mutual desire for each other, Zander is taking the time to learn my body. He’s getting to know every sound I make and cataloging how I move so he’ll know what I like and what will set me off even faster the next time our bodies come together.
This is more than casual, more than a typical fuckboy wanting a willing plaything on a fancy vacation. I was happy to be the willing plaything, but now, well, it’s already feeling different. Better. I’ve been Zander’s sole focus each day. My pleasure, his priority. My challenges, his game. That’s not feeling casual.
Maybe… oh God, do I even let myself think it now? Maybe he wants more than casual with me? Before I can even let my thoughts trail down that rocky road that will obviously lead to disappointment, I cut myself off.
I know the score. No attachments. That’s Zander Olsen to a T. It doesn”t matter if he looks at me right now like he wants to memorize every curve of my body, or his kisses demand ever more from my mouth, and his body fits better with mine each time we come together. The next orgasm hits me with the same force as the thought that when these two weeks are up, so are we.
I just have to keep reminding myself of that.