Chapter 114
2617words
His chuckle is razor sharp. "Just alright?"
"Were you trained?" I ask, my feet tapping around his, matching his pace. His palm smooths over my hip, grazing my thigh as he lifts my leg to hook onto his middle. It's not fair that he can throw me off balance with sexy moves like this. I try to maintain a cold expression, but it's impossible when he dips me low, his face inches from mine.
His teeth glint in the fairy lights strung above. "I taught myself."
"Bullshit," I scoff.
The smugness in his laugh creates hot swirls in my heart. "So you are impressed."
"Fine, maybe a little."
That time, his laugh is warmer—kinder. It coaxes a smile out of me. Hoisting me up to my feet, he holds me close, our bodies swaying in unison. "It should come as no shock that I think you're amazing, too. Your movements have the power of ballet, the grace, but can you do anything else?"
Taking it as a challenge I prop my hands on his shoulders. Rocking my hips, I grind myself against the front of his pants. His eyes widen—it's ambrosia to me. Spinning, I set my ass against him next, continuing to swivel. His hard-on is instant. "I might have some other moves," I say slyly.
He breathes across the back of my neck. "You tease." Sweeping my hair aside, he kisses behind my ear, rolling his body into mine. We dance slowly, ignoring the tempo of the high-energy brass band. We're in our own world. Everyone else has vanished.
The music dies out, people laughing and exiting the stage. Asher cradles me tight, not letting me join them. He's not ready to be finished here. Alone in the middle of the stage, the sun setting on the horizon, we kiss until we can't any longer. Gasping for oxygen, we grin like teenagers who've escaped their parents. Our love is so over the top it feels like we're getting away with something criminal just by being together.
"Come on," he says, pointing at the ocean. "The stars are out."
My body is floating. I have to double check to make sure I'm touching the ground, scanning to confirm I'm leaving footprints in the sand.
The voices of the others on the resort fade away the further we go. Asher keeps us out of the water, but a few times the tide tries to tag us, and we dodge away with laughter. Up above the purple sky has become an ink wash packed with glitter. The stars are numerous, I could never count them all, not even if we stayed here for a hundred years.
"Look!" I cry, crouching down to dig an orange shell from the sugary sand. "Isn't it pretty?"
Asher takes the shell and holds it up. He levels it beside my face, his voice softer than velvet. "Next to you it's forgettable."
How can he still make me blush? I sit on the sand, drawing my knees to my chest and hugging them. Asher joins me, our arms grazing as we watch the ocean roll elegantly just a few feet away. "I could stay here forever," I sigh.
"Should we move here with Steven?" he chuckles.
"My mother would hate that. She can't be away from him for more than a few hours."
"I'm sure she'll manage."
I smile in agreement. "She's probably having a blast right now with him. That, or freaking out. She can panic about the oddest things." I chuckle, but Asher doesn't join in.
He's gazing at the water with a faraway look in his eyes. The look doesn't change when he shifts enough to stare down at me. "What happened earlier?"
I go stiff as. "What do you mean?"
"The way you reacted when we first met Luke. He said our last names and it set you on edge."
"Oh, that?" I laugh too loudly. "I said I was tired."
"You looked scared, Camila."
Hesitating, I lower my eyes to avoid his. Kicking off my sandals, I drag my toes in the sand, creating swirling shapes without purpose.
Asher slips his foot forward, caressing his ankle on mine until I stop making the shapes. "Talk to me."
"I don't want to make you worry."
"The last thing I want is for you to hide something because you think it's for my sake."
Lifting my shoulders up, I exhale until they slump lower than before. "I was scared earlier. He knew our names, and it freaked me out. What if he was here to hurt us? Yannick is dead, but I've been struggling with these little bursts of anxiety for a while. I hoped they'd go away by now, but..." I shake my head to clear my thoughts. "I want to shrug off the terrible things we went through, but it turns out I'm not strong enough for that."
"You've got it all wrong." Asher pulls me against him, stroking my hair as he speaks in a low baritone. "You don't have to be strong. What happened to us, we went through it together. Shouldn't we deal with the aftermath together as well?"
"Asher..."
"Lean on me. Rely on me. Use me and allow me to support you through your fears, Camila."
"You mean that?" I hush.
He smiles indulgently, his thumb outlining my bottom lip. "What else could being in love possibly be about?"
I wake up to the sun in my eyes. Grimacing, I throw up my arm to shield myself. What time is it? I didn't bother to charge my phone. I've been trying to be 'present' on this trip, leaving my mother instructions to call the resort if something is wrong instead of me directly.
Sitting up on the bed I stretch until my joints crack in a satisfying way. Then I freeze, noticing Asher isn't beside me.
"Asher?" I call uncertainly. Sliding my legs over the edge of the bed I walk in my bra and underwear—I was too tired to change into anything else when we got back—and explore the bungalow. Finding no sign of my husband, I step out through the French doors to our private beach.
Asher is standing ankle deep in the ocean. He's wearing his forest green swim trunks and nothing else. With him facing away, I'm able to see his glorious tattoos. It's my first time seeing them in the sunlight, they've always been something shared behind closed doors. The things struck me as a grim secret. But here, with the sunlight, they look like works of art hanging in a gallery.
They're beautiful. Just like him.
Blessed with an opportunity to simply look at him without him looking back, I take a moment to enjoy myself. His wide shoulders with their indents of chiseled muscle create a taper for his trim waist. He's a healthy olive tone, polished like a gem and sharp like one as well. It would be easy to worship this man.
He's not a saint... he's my soulmate. I'll never bow to him, but I'll always love him.
His head turns, his jugular flexing. He's spotted me. "You're awake."
"I didn't mean to sleep in," I say, stepping down on the warm sand to approach him.
Asher waits for me where he is. The ocean laps at my toes, and it delights me how pleasant it feels. "You were tired. It's fine, we're here to enjoy ourselves, and that includes sleeping in."
"I guess I haven't done that much since Steven was born," I chuckle.
He loops his fingers in mine, pulling me deeper in the gentle waves. "Are you missing him?"
"Of course," I say quickly.
Asher nods knowingly. "I am, too." Bending down he kisses me; not a brief kiss, but one with full lips and tension pacing in the shadows. He doesn't expand on his admission; he doesn't need to. He feels the way I do, and I appreciate knowing I'm not alone.
I crane my neck to kiss him back, before wincing as the sun peeks over his ear and blinds me. "It's bright already."
He frowns in thought. Suddenly he's smirking, pulling me towards the shore. "You reminded me of something I've been dying to do." He's taking me over to the lounge chairs. The sight of them sends my pulse rocketing upward, my body heating up like a fever is coming on. I can't think of anything other than what we did here yesterday.
"Lie down," he tells me. "I'll be right back."
Laughing a bit nervously, I stretch out on the lounge cushions on my back. I shoot multiple looks after him as he jogs inside our bungalow, trying to predict what he's up to—and also enjoying the view of him running. His muscles are particularly sexy when they're flexing.
I'm briefly alone. I don't take my eyes off the bungalow, but the position I'm in to see the French doors is twisting my neck. Giving up after a minute, I slump on the cushions with my head tilted back, eyes closed to protect me from the sun that's blazing above. I wish I'd brought my sunglasses.
Asher clears his throat; his shadow falls over me, blocking the sun.
"Here." He offers me my pink rimmed sunglasses.
I take them with a surprised laugh.
"You can read my mind, it's confirmed." I set them on my face and adjust them. "There," I say, angling my chin to gaze up at him. "Now I can see you without going blind."
He makes a circular motion with his finger. "Roll over."
My brow scrunches, but then I spot the bottle of sunblock in his hand. The little flutters are back in my belly, stronger than ever. I flip onto my stomach on the lounge chair. I'm wearing nothing but my bra and panties, which isn't that different than a bikini, but it suddenly feels obscene.
I can't see Asher, but he can see a lot of me.
"You're going to lotion me up?" I ask coyly. "Just that concerned about me getting burned?"
His chuckle is thick and gritty, it vibrates into my blood until I'm shivering deliciously. "The only person who can make this ass red..." His hand lightly slaps my right cheek. "Is me."
I swallow with difficulty. Resting my cheek on my folded arms, I try to remain still as I listen to the sound of him squirting lotion into his hand. Everything is louder because I'm not looking. My heightened senses extend to my skin—his palm settles on my upper back and I jump. "Sorry," I whisper-laugh.
He glides his hands down my spine, making circular motions over my shoulder-blades. When he encounters my bra strap he undoes it wordlessly. Now he can smooth the lotion from the base of my neck to the curve of my hips without anything interrupting him.
The man is an expert with his hands, I think in a daze. He rubs in harder until I gasp, and when he massages down my hamstrings I whimper and groan. My toes curl as he works over my calf-muscles. He's not just putting sunblock on me, he's luxuriating in touching my body. I've never felt so lucky.
Or so turned on.
The buzzing in my core has been constant since I saw him standing in the ocean. With him running his hands all over my body, the buzzing has become an earthquake. This thirst is intense. My insides ache for him to do more than massage my legs and back.
"You're shifting around a lot," he whispers darkly in my ear. "Are you alright?"
"You know what you're doing to me," I counter. I try to sound annoyed—his fingers sweep low, rubbing into my ass, forcing me to groan. I arch into his touch, seeking more of it. I want to encourage him to use his damn hands on other parts of me.
He breathes out, sounding like he's straining. I turn to try and see him, but the angle is wrong. All I spot is the sand and the ocean on either side of me. His shadow dances on the white grains. It moves as he does, warning me, only barely, before he rolls me onto my back. My breasts flash in the air. I move to cover them with my arm out of habit. He frowns, eyes narrowing, and I stop halfway.
That's right, we're alone here. No one can see us.
I hope they can't hear us either...
"You don't want to get a burn on this half of your body," he says hoarsely. He stands over me; I glimpse the large shape of his cock straining against his swim trunks. My clit throbs sympathetically. Asher holds up the sunblock, shooting a fresh dose into his palms. I watch with my breath tangling in my lungs. He's fixated on my breasts. The anticipation of what he's about to do has me rocking on the lounge, unable to hold still as waves of arousal rise higher than the ones on the actual ocean surrounding us.
He lowers his hands to my chest, smoothing slippery lotion over my breasts. My eyes roll in my head and I bite down on impulse. The rush of pleasure is immense enough that I think I'm losing my eyesight, until I remember I'm wearing sunglasses. His fingertips, lubed by sunblock, toy with my nipples, sliding around them without any friction.
"Oh my god," I whimper, grinding my knees together. Reaching down, I brace my hand against his erection. It jumps in my hand; he pushes his hips forward, giving me better access. While Asher spreads sunblock all over my upper chest, I massage his cock through his swim trunks.
His growl would frighten me if I didn't know him. "That feels incredible, Camila."
"That does, too," I moan, shoving my breasts into his hands by sitting up on the lounge chair. He tugs my nipples lightly, then lets go of one, slipping a hand down to the junction of my thighs. His hands, covered in sunblock, glide over the front of my underwear. The fabric is pushed inside of me; he pulls it upward against my clit, then side to side, releasing bursts of wicked pressure in my pussy.
Maneuvering my panties out of the way, he pets two slick fingers over my lower-lips. I squeal, panting eagerly while lifting my hips to encourage him. I don't stop palming his shaft through his trunks. We're masturbating together, the knowledge erotic enough to have me on the edge of orgasm. By the time Asher wedges two fingers knuckle deep into my pussy I'm ready to explode.
Throwing my head back, I let out an obscene cry of pleasure. My sunglasses topple off my face and onto the sand, but my eyes have shut; I'm too lost in pleasure, accidentally sparing my eyes from the ball of white-hot sun.
The glow seeps through my eyelids. It's inside of me, it is me—my muscles tremble and my pussy thrums around Asher's fingers as I come. I jerk on the lounger, squealing as my muscles go haywire. Every inch of my skin is slick from sweat or sunblock.
The tremors are fading along with the orgasm. I start to catch my breath and say something now that we're done. Asher drives his fingers into me harder. He's not done.
He's only getting started.
