Chapter 115
1614words
I've been lucky enough to see many beautiful things in my lifetime. Expert oil paintings, hand crafted statues, flowers that took years to cultivate into a special shade of maroon.
Camila outshines all of them.
I'm knuckle deep inside of her, my other hand cupping her left breast and teasing her hard nipple. She's mewling beneath me, the sound of it making me wild. My cock is hard enough that it hurts. A moment ago, she was jerking me off through my trunks, but she's too busy coming to do anything but quiver.
Turning her brain and body into mush is addicting. She's the strongest, most intelligent woman I've ever known, but in my touch she falls apart. The power of that... it thrills a dark part of my soul, a hungry, primal piece of me that wants to conquer.
Camila tries to look at me—her sunglasses are gone, and her face is scrunched up in the sunlight. I lift an arm over her head to create shade, lowering my face to hers in a passionate kiss. This works even better because she shuts her eyes instinctively.
We should get out of this sun. The sunblock was a ruse to drive her crazy by massaging her everywhere. It worked. But now I want to be away from the scorching heat, especially when there's a hotter fire growing inside both of us. We're bound to melt on the sand at this rate.
But not yet. One more before we move. I curl my fingers inside of her pussy; she gasps down my throat. Wiggling my fingers side to side independently, I use my thumb to pet her swollen clit. I've always been a perceptive man, but I'm on high alert with Camila. My goal is to know what she loves... what will make her heart thud, her thighs tremble. I've become a master at reading her body.
Her inner walls clench on my fingers. I count the twitches, waiting for the tell-tale sign that she's going to come again. There! She tightens up, her lips going slack, though I continue kissing her anyway. Camila is electric in my arms as her climax swings through her body. My cock swells, ready to burst as I'm taunted by how warm and tight she is around my fingers.
"Asher," she moans my name.
Scooping her up, I carry her over the sand. She stirs, looking around as she clings to my shoulders, trying to make sense of why I'm moving. Taking us inside our bungalow, I don't slow down until I enter our bedroom. "We've had this amazing bed since yesterday, but we haven't taken advantage of it once."
Camila laughs, her skin bouncing against mine from the tempo. "How rude of us."
"Exactly," I chuckle. Setting her on the blankets that are askew from us sleeping in them—we haven't had a chance for the staff to show up and make the bed—I kiss her again. My hands drop on either side of her head in the pillows, my weight settling on her until her breasts dig into my hard chest. I love the way that feels.
Lowering myself, my lips encircle one of her nipples. Camila sings her excitement, her fingers tangling in my hair to keep me where I am. I allow it—for a bit—but I have other goals. Inching further across her silken body, I kiss her navel, her pelvic bones, enjoying the hard parts of her as much as the soft ones.
The sweet scent of her pussy weakens me. I inhale deeply, pushing her thighs wider to give me access. She clamps her knees around my face, muscles trembling in anticipation. My thumbs spread her apart, then I dip my tongue inside of her, savoring her flavor.
"That's so good," she hisses, grinding herself against my face. I flatten my tongue, a string of saliva connecting from it to her clitoris as I rise up on my hands. She sees and flushes pink. The way she bites her lower lip makes my pulse quicken, rendering me unable to wait any longer.
"I need you," I say thickly. Kneeling on the bed I slip my swim trunks off my ankles. We're both naked, a fact so simple yet so arousing. The large window is wide open, the breeze coming off the water making the curtains stir. Everything smells like sea salt and cocoa butter.
"Should we use a condom?" she asks me, her eyes big as dinner plates.
"No." Aiming myself carefully, I push inside of her with as much patient control as I can manage. Tingles roll from my belly to my brain; I hiss through my teeth. "No, no condoms."
"But— ah!" She loses her voice when I fill her up. "But I could get pregnant again!"
"So?" It's a simple response that says a million things.
Her lips drop open, as red as the heat living in her cheeks. "You're sure?"
Does she really believe I wouldn't relish another child? If I had my way we'd have multiple children. A family is something to treasure. There's no world where I wouldn't be delighted at being told I'm a father over and over again.
'Yes. I want this, I want whatever happens from this."
There's something beyond pleasure in her dark pupils. Maybe bigger than love, though I don't have a word for it. She puts her hands around my hips, guiding me inside of her all the way, and when I pull my hips back for a second thrust, she grips on, leading the pace.
I'm panting in hot bursts of air. The lust has already surged to a peak, my shaft hard as rock as I slam into her on the bed. Camila wraps around me tighter than a ribbon. Every gyration of my body she meets with her own.
I heave forward, the bed shaking from the effort. Camila hugs around my cock, enveloping me like silk. Her pussy flutters each time I plunge inside. Every stroke takes me closer to the delirious release of orgasm, and god, I need it badly. I'm hot all over, as if my skin can't contain the energy inside. It has to go somewhere... it has to go into her.
She cries out on the cusp of every thrust. 'Asher! Oh my god, Asher, yes! Don't slow down don't you dare slow down!"
Obediently I drill into her with new energy. I'm driven by the climax I'm chasing, but also by seeing her lose control. Her nails bite into the flesh around my upper back, straight into the ink of my tattoos.
"Fuck!" I breathe huskily. The pain is sharp, it wakes up more of my awareness; my very cells are on fire. If this is the last thing I experience, I could die contently.
It's as if a storm goes off inside of her. Little electric tingles, muscles flexing, pulsing. "I'm coming!" she screams at the top of her lungs. As secluded as we are, there's a chance the resort guests hear her.
Her orgasm is the lighting of my fuse. Bracing my jaw, my neck bunching, I lean into her on the bed. I hook her ankles around my elbows to spread her wider, getting a few inches more of the traction I need. Massive pressure builds in my chest, darting into my lower core. Droplets of my own sweat stain the bed sheets, making darker designs on the fabric.
Grunting until my throat feels raw, I start shaking. My cock expands, the tip hot and heavy, pleasure immense enough to leave me lightheaded. I come in spurts, filling Camila up with each final thrust of my hips.
Both of us shudder together, like we've shed some sort of burden and can finally relax. All my muscles loosen, but my skull is tight. That's what happens when you connect with someone with your whole being. No part of you, body or mind, is left untouched.
Camila hugs me close. Her fingers run over my back, grazing the tender spots her nails dug in. She doesn't know she did that. She's a total prisoner to her body when she's turned on, acting without thought as she pursues relief. I understand of course.
Revenge isn't lust, but it's controlled me in the past just the same.
"I love you," I tell her, kissing her forehead.
"I love you, too." Camila takes me by the jaw, moving me so our lips press snugly. It's wonderful to lie on our bed and enjoy each other's quiet presence.
Eventually Camila shifts, then sighs. "What a workout," she giggles.
Sitting up, I gather her in my arms. She doesn't have time to ask what I'm doing until I've carried her, naked as she was born, out back into the sunlight. She sees the hot tub as we approach it and smiles. "You don't mind a change of scenery?" I ask.
"No, not at all."
Together we sink up to our necks in the hot tub. The jets are on, the bubbles rolling against our bodies. My muscles appreciate the sensation—I let out a soft sigh. Camila reclines beside me, her eyes shut, enjoying the moment.
Her thick lashes tickle her cheeks. There's a mild smile playing over her red-tinged lips.
There have been many times where I wondered what Camila was thinking. She's capable of being mysterious, her wit allowing her to mislead me when she had no other options. I've cursed myself for my inability to read her mind when it really counted. But this time, I don't have any trouble.
She's happy.
She doesn't have to say it out loud for me to know.
