That delicious desire doesn't fade as we drop anchor a few hours later, ready to stay put for the night, finding an inlet where we can be safe. I've been here plenty of times before. I grew up only an hour away. But we're nestled in where no big ships will see us. The night is ours.
But it's still day, the sun's still out. And Maker asks if I'm hungry.
"I'm not looking for food to satiate my appetite, if that's what you're wondering,” I say to him with a coy smile.
"Damn girl, do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"
"I have an inkling."
"Good," he says, "I don't want you to be caught unaware when I come after you."
We're on his deck, and he takes my hand. "Come up here to the hull,” he says, and I follow him. There's a plush spot with vinyl cushions overlooking the sea and we sit down together, watching the waves like we've done for the last two hours.
"When you asked me to dance last night, I didn't expect to end up here with you, now,” I admit.
As we sit side by side, our shoulders brush, my heart pounds, I want to take this to the next level and I want to do it soon.
I want to go below deck with Maker, but he hasn't invited me there with him. When I went to get drinks earlier, I saw a large cabin, a queen-sized bed, plenty of space for us to play. But it's as if he's hesitating.
"I want to be here with you, I'm just nervous,” he admits.
"You're nervous with me?" I laugh. "Maker, you're a really confident man, and I know you've been in charge of lots of people, and lots of business deals. In command of large places and spaces. Why would you be nervous with a girl like me?"
"Oh, Marley. You don't see it, do you?" he asks, cupping my cheek again, drawing me close. My body bubbles up with pleasure, excited. "I get nervous with you because, like I told you before, you're not like anyone else."
"In a good way?" I ask.
"In a damn good way,” he says. "When I look at you, I see somebody's wife. Somebody's mother. I see a whole fucking future."
"Just anybody's wife, just anybody's mother?" I ask him.
He swallows hard. "If I told you what I really thought, I might scare you away."
"I'm not scared now," I tell him, meaning it.
He may be an ex-con, a criminal, but when he looks at me, I feel safe in a way my brothers never have. They're over-protective, sure. But with Maker, I feel a different kind of safe. Not just my physical being, my whole heart and soul, all of it.
"Kiss me again," I say, "but this time, don't stop."
"I didn't expect for you to be the aggressor in this situation,” he says.
I smile. "The roles are reversed for the first time in my life. I have never once pursued anyone, anything."
He chuckles sadly. "And somehow, for some reason, you choose me?"
"Oh, Maker. You make me feel alive."
"Do you think it might just be the fact that I'm the forbidden? I'm the bad guy? Is it the thrill of the danger that gets you going?" he asks me, his voice gruff, but quiet.
"No, it's not that. I just… you really turn me on. And you see me as my own person. Like I'm a woman. Like I could be somebody's woman."
"Tonight you're mine,” he says, and his lips press against mine. And I whimper as he rolls me on my back. Out in broad daylight, he pushes up my skirt. He spreads my knees.
I’ve never done this before, but God, how I want to. Need to. He doesn’t hesitate. Kneeling before me, he spreads my pussy, groaning as he touches me.
"Oh, Maker." I moan as his fingers press against me, against my pussy, inside me. Fluttering fast, slow, his mouth on mine, his tongue too. Down my neck, he tugs the front of my dress and I'm glad I don't have on a bra. My breasts spill out.
He sucks my nipple hard and my core tightens, his fingers moving against me, fast.
"You told me to take you, and goddammit, Marley Grove, I will. I want you so fucking bad. You have no idea. Your pussy, fuck, it's tight."
I nod. "I'm glad I saved myself for the right person. The right moment."
He looks at me, his eyes dark. "No one's touched you before?" He asks, his finger stilling. "Never once?"
I shake my head. "Never once. You're my only."
He groans, not in anger or disappointment, but the kind of groan that comes when you feel like you don't deserve what you just got, and tears fill my eyes as I realize that's me, it's me he thinks he doesn't deserve. I wrap my arms around him, and I pull his mouth to mine, closer, deeper, rolling on top of him. His finger at my core, his cock hard, bulging at my belly.
I want all of this and more. I want Maker to make me his for at least one night. More, maybe. Forever?
"Make love to me," I ask him. "Please, my body's on fire for you. Make me a woman."
"Fuck Marley, sleeping with me isn't going to make you a woman. You already are. You're fucking gorgeous, and sweet and kind and good. So damn good."
"I don't want to be good tonight, though." I tell him, "I want to be bad."
He lifts me up from the cushions and he carries me below deck, my legs wrapped around his. I breathe him in, running my fingers through his thick hair. His beard scratching my neck, my whole body on fire, tingling, ready.
He lays me on his bed and he pulls down my panties. I tug off my dress as he unbuckles his belt,
