“Why? Let’s get room service again, I have everything I need right here,” he murmurs, pulling me closer.
“We haven’t seen the light of day today, don’t you want to get out?” My pale blue, wedding night underwear presses against his bare golden skin. I put it on for him because it turns him on, and on this occasion he can leave it on me and admire it. We’re going out for dinner…if he ever puts some underwear on!
“We did, we were on the balcony for ages and we went for a swim.” He softly croons in my ear as his hands snake their way over my body.
“Danny, sex on the balcony and then in the hot tub for three hours, is not seeing the sights!” I giggle trying to extricate myself from his grip.
“I saw some sights,” he smirks. “Now I want to see some more.”
I’m determined to go out tonight, but he’s making it so hard. I turn in his arms and face him. He’s impossible to resist. I gasp as his hand slips inside the delicate lace of my underwear and shudder when his finger brushes my clit. I kiss him, slowly, as his fingers enter me. I know we’re not leaving this room tonight, but I keep up the pretence for a minute longer. While I’m lingering around his ear, I whisper what I wish he could do to me if we weren’t going out to dinner. He moans, turned on by my explicit words, so I continue, telling him what I wish I could do to him. Then, what I say to him turns him on so much it almost gets him there.
I whisper. “Oh, screw it. Use me…don’t hold back, take what you need.”
“Oh God, Liv.” He groans as I sink to kneel at his feet.
I take him in my mouth, running my tongue all the way around him to ease my path. He sighs at first but as I move, his sighs become whispers, the whispers become moans. Then as I begin to accept him deeper and deeper, his hands appear, ready to do what I asked. To use me and take what he needs.
He is never rough, but I love it when he takes control. That first night we were together, it happened by accident, but the effect on both of us was amazing, it’s something he knows I love now and he doesn’t feel bad about it. He forces himself into my mouth, over and over again, while my fingers dig into his thighs. My hands give an indication to him of just how much I can take. Occasionally they twitch up, almost at the point of asking him to stop, but I never do. I can take it, but it drives him crazy, thinking I'm on the verge of begging him to stop.
I make that low throaty moan he loves and he gasps.
“Jesus, Liv.” He hisses. “Touch yourself.”
A thrill goes through me and I willingly oblige, sliding my hand under the soft lace of my underwear. He can’t see, but he knows I’m doing it. I moan to let him know I’ve hit home and he seems to lose control at the thought. Focusing hard on his goal, he uses long, slow strokes. I roll my tongue around him every time he almost withdraws and accept him back as deep as possible each time he pushes in. His jagged breaths tell me he’s getting close and my fingers bring a stifled moan from me that seals the deal for him.
“I’m gonna come.” He moans desperately. I simply allow him to use me to get there, I love it when he really lets go “Oh God.” He gasps as his body tenses, then releases into my willing mouth.
He shudders as he finishes. Looking down at me, he laughs.
I’m breathless and weak with need, but I’m happy on this occasion to make that all about him. It’s one in the bank for me later, not that we’re keeping score. Trembling a little, I stand and wipe away the tears he forced from my eyes with his deep thrusting.
“Can we go to dinner now?” I smirk.
“I don’t think you were finished.” He grins, trailing a finger along the fabric of my knickers.
“Later.” I say firmly, moving his hand away.
“No, now!” He demands, lifting me suddenly.
I shriek, “Danny! Put me down!” Which he does, on the bed, with a thump. He yanks my underwear to the side and sucks in my clit, before I know what has happened.
“Oh, God!” I cry as his fingers push inside me. He’s unbelievably talented, my husband. He takes me straight to the edge and holds me there longer than I can stand it. I’m begging for mercy within minutes as he relentlessly sucks and licks and occasionally bites. I hiss as his teeth once again close over what, right now, feels like the centre of my being.
“Danny, please…”
“Uh, uh.” He shakes his head.
“Please…” I whimper.
He sucks me hard again.
“Fuck! Please give it to me…please let me come.”
Then his fingers twist inside me and his free hand reaches up and pinches my nipple…and I’m gone. Shouting his name, I crash out of control into a mind-blowing orgasm.
Panting, I lay tangled in the sheets. Danny flops down beside me looking very pleased with himself.
“Ready to go to dinner then?” He laughs.
“Fuck you!”
“Hey! That better not be an empty promise.” He pulls the sheet over us and tickles me until I can’t breathe.
“Danny, stop!” I beg. “I give up!”
“Give up what?”
“We can stay in and get room service.” I giggle, his hands still making me squirm.
“Yeah!” He yells, fist pumping the air.
“You’re so funny!” I wipe a stray tear and lift the sheet to peep at him. He laughs and pulls me in, hugging me tight.
“Funny?”
“Funny and wonderful,” I say, lovingly stroking his face.
“You forgot hot.”
“Funny and wonderful and hot.’ I correct myself.
“And virile, don’t forget virile.”
I raise my eyebrows. “How virile?” I ask as his mouth hovers over mine. He looks at me suggestively and then shows me. My God, he shows me.
I still can’t quite believe he managed it. It took him so long to build back up to it that I was completely wrung out by the time he reaches his second and I reached my fourth climax of the night. A record for both of us. Virile hardly covers it!
I’m actually aching from the things we’ve done to each other. I’m afraid to even calculate the number of orgasms. But if the average is once per new surface and at least twenty per hot tub, I’d say we were in the hundreds. Danny is behaving like we will never have sex again after today, I know we're staying ay Jen and Scotts but we don't have to stop, we just have to learn some restraint. I sigh as I cross my legs and feel the familiar tenderness from our overexertions this morning. Determined to have me while he still could, we had a lovely long shower. My fingers are still pruney.
Sitting in the departure lounge in Cabo, I hold his hand. I can feel the anxiety building in him. Heading back to LA to do his best to help his friends has begun to take its toll on him. The pressure he’s putting on himself is immense. Our flight is called and he gives me that ‘here-goes’ look as he stands and picks up our bags. His foot begins to tap as we push back from the stand and I touch his knee gently to steady it. I try to offer him a reassuring smile, but he’s lost in the tension. We’ve talked so much about it now, that I know his biggest fear is it never working. The odds are stacked against them, given the restrictions of time and distance and he just doesn’t want to let them down.
Jen wanted to pick us up from the airport, but Danny said we’d need a car anyway, so he has arranged a hire and we make our own way. I smirk at the Range Rover. Boys! It’s strange to be here again. Only five months since I fled, life looks a whole lot different cruising along the freeway today. I stroke Danny’s leg. He’s still tense, but being home seems to have settled him slightly and when we pull into the driveway at Jen and Scott’s and Jen bowls out to greet us, he visibly relaxes.
“Long time!” She teases.
It’s mid-afternoon on a Monday, so I’m surprised when Scott appears in the doorway to help us in with our luggage.
“What are you doing here? I was told you never stop working,” I say and kiss his cheek.
