No matter what Gage said, there would be no coming back from this. This was her boss, dressed in nothing but a towel. And she’d just agreed to a no-strings fling with him. Maybe she was feverish. Maybe she was dreaming again.
She’d never done ‘no strings’ before. But her flatmate did it all the time, so how hard could it be?
“Stop thinking so much.” Gage’s voice was a growl against her cheek as he bent close. His body heat burned through the
thin fabric of her camisole top.
Poppy breathed in deep and leaned back against the railing, her head thrown back, eyes closed. Gage’s hand slid behind
her neck, into her hair, but still she didn’t open her eyes. Then his mouth was on hers, and oh God! He kissed even better than she’d imagined. All fire and
promise. She opened her mouth to breathe him in, and his tongue slipped between
her lips, playful and taunting. She sighed into his mouth, and gave herself
over to his kiss, losing herself in it.
His other hand, still on her breast, squeezed and rubbed. Her own hands moved up, of their own volition, to explore
his bare chest. The roughness of his hair, and the hard planes of muscle,
scored against her palms. Then her fingers found his nipple, stroked, pinched,
and Gage moaned into her mouth. He pressed his body against hers, and she
could feel his desire throbbing between them.
When they came up for air, both breathing
hard, Poppy was more than a little dazed. She protested when his hands left her
body, but only for a moment. Effortlessly, he lifted her up onto the balcony
railing, parting her legs and stepping between her thighs. She clung to his broad
shoulders for support, but she’d never felt safer. He wouldn’t let her go.
His hand slid down over the curve of her
stomach, brushed gently over her sleep shorts to settle at the apex of her
legs. There it stayed, his palm pressing lightly against her soaking pussy. The
weight and heat of his hand sent tremors through her as his mouth once again
So lost was she in his kiss, in the taste
and feel of him, she barely noticed when his fingers reached for the hem of her
shorts, slid beneath the soft fabric. Then his hand traced the curve of her
inner thigh, and she definitely noticed that. The rough warmth of his hand against
the soft, sensitive skin sent a shaft of aching need deep down into her core.
Gage rubbed the heel of his palm across
her pussy, feathering her inner lips with the tips of his fingers. She nipped
his lip, playful, begging, and he slid one long, thick finger inside her. She
moaned, deep in her throat, closed her eyes again, and let her body take over
from her mind.
She was already so wet for him. His finger
slid in and out, slow at first, setting a rhythm of slow, deep thrusts. She
moved her hips, pushing into his touch, forcing him harder and deeper.
Her nipples chafed against the soft fabric
of her camisole, so tight they were almost painful. As if sensing her need, his
head dipped to her chest, his mouth clamped wet and hot over one straining
nipple, sucking through the thin material. That touch was her undoing.
Her inner muscles contracted around the
divine friction of his hand, the spasms rippling through her whole body until
she was spent and limp. Her legs shook with the after effects of her orgasm.
The second orgasm he’d given her in less
than twenty four hours.
This time he didn’t straighten her panties
and walk away. This time he smoothed his hand over her still trembling clit,
trailing his fingers up over her stomach, under her camisole top to circle her
breast, while his other arm held her securely against him.
With his mouth still clamped on one
nipple, still sucking her through her top, he cupped her other breast, gently
kneading. He flicked his thumb over her taut nipple, and she bit down on her
already tender lip.
It took every ounce of her willpower to
push his hand away. Startled, his mouth left her breast, cold air rushing in
where a moment ago her skin had burned.
“You don’t want this?” he asked, and she
was touched that he was willing to step away, even though it had to be killing
She shook her head, had to clear her
throat before she could speak again. “I want this. But this isn’t just about
me. I want to do something for you too.”
He grinned, his eyes burning dark. “You
will.” He bent his head closer, his tongue teasing along the sensitive skin
just below her ear. His voice rumbled low against her ear. “The next time you
come for me, I’ll be inside you.”
To read the full story so far, check out Poppy's Caribbean Adventure on Wattpad. And check back here next week for the next instalment...