imagined doing with him the few acts she’d never shared with anyone else. Acts that to her seemed more personal, more intimate than taking a cock into her pussy and fucking it to a mutual release.
She met his amused gaze. “I want to suck your cock.”
“I won’t complain. Later. We’ve got hours before the tide rises. A whole night before we’ve got to head for Tampa. There’s nothing I don’t want from you…with you. I intend to have it all.”
“All right.” Just as it had seemed right last night to put her safety—her life—into his hands, now it seemed right to submit. To follow his lead, enjoy his body while he sated himself on her. “Another grape?” She caught one between her teeth, then joined their open lips.
His tongue darted out, caught the small globe and bit into it, sending sweet, tart juice into her mouth and his. Sending shards of sexual excitement to her brain, and from there throughout her body.
A day out of time, for feeling and loving and living in the present. No past and no future. Tomorrow would be time enough for recriminations. Now Marcy would let go, bask in desire, affection, and—she’d admit it to herself if not to him—love for the man Sam was today that had nothing to do with nostalgia or survival or anything but what lay buried in her heart.
Intent on arousing him fully, Marcy picked up the cucumber and sucked it into her mouth, her gaze never wavering from his smiling face.
Soft, full lips, pink and inviting, closed around the dark-green flesh of the cucumber he’d brought along for a salad. Sam’s cock swelled at the thought of her taking him that way. His pulse accelerated at the memory of her tonguing him last night as they’d lain in the eye of the storm not knowing if their next moments might be their last. The urgency was gone now, yet the passion remained. With every lazy motion of her mouth on the lucky vegetable, he grew harder.
Wanted her more. For a moment he imagined dragging her home, locking her away for no one’s eyes but his. No one’s cock but his. His heart pounded in his chest. Damn it, no one but Marcy had ever engendered such fierce possessiveness in him, such an animal urge to claim her, hold her as his own.
“You’re wasting it on that cuke . Come down here and suck on me. Let me feel your hot, wet mouth. Swallow my cock. Make me come if you can.”
Pouting prettily, she withdrew the cucumber and bent over him, her lips brushing his chest, each ridge of his tensed abs. Then she sucked him into her mouth the way she’d sucked him into her life from their first date. Sexily, sweetly, with warmth and infinite care, as though this was a new and wondrous experience.
His balls tightened when she tightened her lips on his shaft, took more of him. When he spread his legs she caressed them briefly, then stroked the insides of his thighs. She remembered. He liked being stroked there, and on the backs of his knees. Something no other lover had discovered.
But then with other lovers he’d been scratching an itch. With her having sex had always been making love. Still was, in spite of everything. Sam shoved away the regrets that bubbled up inside him, concentrating instead on the heat of her mouth on his cock, the soft yet incredibly arousing touch of her soft fingers, the rake of her nails. The moist heat of her breath on his belly and the brush of pale damp strands of her hair along his hipbones.
He sank his fingers in her hair, drew her off him. “I’ve got to touch you too. And when I come, I want to be buried so deep inside you, you won’t be able to push me out.”
“I won’t want you out. I love what you do to me, how you make me feel.”
Carefully, as he might have handled a precious, fragile artifact , he laid her back against the dark-blue coverlet and looked at her with wonder, the way he had so many times before. Marcy’s beauty awed him. Aroused him. Made him feel like twice the man he was, just because she’d once loved
She met his amused gaze. “I want to suck your cock.”
“I won’t complain. Later. We’ve got hours before the tide rises. A whole night before we’ve got to head for Tampa. There’s nothing I don’t want from you…with you. I intend to have it all.”
“All right.” Just as it had seemed right last night to put her safety—her life—into his hands, now it seemed right to submit. To follow his lead, enjoy his body while he sated himself on her. “Another grape?” She caught one between her teeth, then joined their open lips.
His tongue darted out, caught the small globe and bit into it, sending sweet, tart juice into her mouth and his. Sending shards of sexual excitement to her brain, and from there throughout her body.
A day out of time, for feeling and loving and living in the present. No past and no future. Tomorrow would be time enough for recriminations. Now Marcy would let go, bask in desire, affection, and—she’d admit it to herself if not to him—love for the man Sam was today that had nothing to do with nostalgia or survival or anything but what lay buried in her heart.
Intent on arousing him fully, Marcy picked up the cucumber and sucked it into her mouth, her gaze never wavering from his smiling face.
Soft, full lips, pink and inviting, closed around the dark-green flesh of the cucumber he’d brought along for a salad. Sam’s cock swelled at the thought of her taking him that way. His pulse accelerated at the memory of her tonguing him last night as they’d lain in the eye of the storm not knowing if their next moments might be their last. The urgency was gone now, yet the passion remained. With every lazy motion of her mouth on the lucky vegetable, he grew harder.
Wanted her more. For a moment he imagined dragging her home, locking her away for no one’s eyes but his. No one’s cock but his. His heart pounded in his chest. Damn it, no one but Marcy had ever engendered such fierce possessiveness in him, such an animal urge to claim her, hold her as his own.
“You’re wasting it on that cuke . Come down here and suck on me. Let me feel your hot, wet mouth. Swallow my cock. Make me come if you can.”
Pouting prettily, she withdrew the cucumber and bent over him, her lips brushing his chest, each ridge of his tensed abs. Then she sucked him into her mouth the way she’d sucked him into her life from their first date. Sexily, sweetly, with warmth and infinite care, as though this was a new and wondrous experience.
His balls tightened when she tightened her lips on his shaft, took more of him. When he spread his legs she caressed them briefly, then stroked the insides of his thighs. She remembered. He liked being stroked there, and on the backs of his knees. Something no other lover had discovered.
But then with other lovers he’d been scratching an itch. With her having sex had always been making love. Still was, in spite of everything. Sam shoved away the regrets that bubbled up inside him, concentrating instead on the heat of her mouth on his cock, the soft yet incredibly arousing touch of her soft fingers, the rake of her nails. The moist heat of her breath on his belly and the brush of pale damp strands of her hair along his hipbones.
He sank his fingers in her hair, drew her off him. “I’ve got to touch you too. And when I come, I want to be buried so deep inside you, you won’t be able to push me out.”
“I won’t want you out. I love what you do to me, how you make me feel.”
Carefully, as he might have handled a precious, fragile artifact , he laid her back against the dark-blue coverlet and looked at her with wonder, the way he had so many times before. Marcy’s beauty awed him. Aroused him. Made him feel like twice the man he was, just because she’d once loved
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