Discarding the gel pack on the floor, he opened the champagne, took a swig, and then tipped it over and poured it all over my lips. He lapped and poured, poured and lapped, letting the champagne also drip down his chin onto his chest.
“You want some?” he asked, his eyes wide and dangerous.
I nodded, raising my head to accept the cool bubbly liquid. My ass was sitting in champagne-soaked sheets. My boobs glistened as he did a pour over and sucked my nipples. The pulsing inside me continued. He drank the rest of the bottle letting it roll off the bed and onto the carpet.
I was desperate for him to be inside me. “Marco, please,” I begged.
He fingered my folds again, gently pinching my clit. “You want this, don’t you?”
I nodded again, breathing hard, licking my lips, loving how he rimmed and penetrated my opening.
His motions were gentle as he adjusted his upper torso forward, taking hold of my wrists still high above my head with one hand, and pressed his warm cock at my cool entrance with the other. Slowly he pushed his way inside, watching me, watching how wide my eyes got, watching my breasts rise and fall as he stretched and massaged my throbbing parts, rubbed my nub gently and breached my entry, violating me so lovingly. I felt my muscles immediately close down around him. I arched, pressing my breasts to his chest. He kept my hands immobilized but lifted my left knee to above his shoulder, angled to the side and pressed deeper, and then deeper, until he was knocking on the door of my sweet spot.
His slow hip movements, expertly riding me and playing my body like an instrument replaced the throbbing pain with pure pleasure. His back and forth was slow, deliberate. There was no urgency to any of it, as his gentle rhythm grew my arousal slowly.
This was all about me, and he made no mystery of it as he watched my face and my body react to him. I writhed against the constraint of his fingers gripping my wrists, so I could fully enjoy the capture.
Several minutes later, my internal muscles suddenly clamped down on him, causing me to suck in a deep breath. I exhaled and sank into the wonderful rolling orgasm, leaving my body shaking.
“Oh, baby. You are so beautiful. Look at that,” he whispered.
He plunged in, and then held himself as I continued to spasm, falling over the edge of my quick little orgasm like a leaf over a waterfall. And then I felt the familiar pulsing as we both stopped moving and experienced the full impact of our union.
I had never felt so loved. I would never recover from what he’d done to me, both to my body and to my heart.
I was lost forever.
We ate breakfast in the fern and palm tree courtyard dining area filled with filtered morning sunlight. I was still reeling from the emotional love-making session that preceded our dangerous shower. I couldn’t stop smiling, looking down at my lap, almost embarrassed at how intimate and persistent Marco was with me.
I felt cherished.
I also felt a twinge of sadness that I was having an experience that perhaps should have belonged to my sister. And yet, I also wondered if their relationship was somehow different from what I was feeling now.
I could tell he was studying me from across the table.
“You’re awfully quiet, Shannon.” He took my hand across the table and smiled.
“I have no words. I’m a reporter, well, a weather girl,” I said as I tossed my head from side to side, “and I have no words. That’s kind of funny, don’t you think?”
“You mean like me not doing something because I’d be afraid it would be dangerous?” He tried.
“Yes.” I leaned forward, putting both elbows on the table. “I never expected this. To—” I was going to say, “to feel this way,” but stopped myself.
He was showing his confusion, his brow furrowed.
I understood now why Emily was so upset when Marco postponed their marriage until his next deployment was over. Almost as if she knew she didn’t have much time left. I did have time. I just didn’t want him to go. I continued.
“I guess I’m regretting how I’ll feel when you’ve left our sunny state.”
He paused, still holding my hand. “Then come with me to Boston, Shannon. You could even find work there if you wanted.”
I didn’t want to go to Boston as his extra piece of luggage. I wanted what I had here, and I never expected to feel so torn.
“No, Marco, I can’t do that.”
“You visited me once, you could come again. You have friends there, right? Some other reason to come to Boston?”
This was the question I didn’t want to address. I wasn’t ready.
“I just felt like it.”
He angled his head. “Did you come to see me?”
I had to lie. “Not entirely. My friend told me about this Bachelor Towers place where women weren’t supposed to own apartments. I had to see for myself because it sounded so backward. But when I read an article about who lived at the towers, and saw that you were one of them, well, with your project here in my little sleepy town in Florida, I had to see who this man was.”
I didn’t want to look him in the eyes because I was afraid he’d see the truth. I’d just dug my hole a little deeper. Would there ever be a way I could extricate myself out of this and keep us together?
“I hate the press. They can be so cruel. And you know, you can’t trust much of what you read.”
“I’m with you there, Marco.”
“So, about my leaving, I have to go early tomorrow morning. I’ve got some business things to attend to and fix a wire transfer that I found out this morning didn’t happen. I can’t
