Page 22 of Dreamboat

“You make me feel so good,” she murmurs. “I’ve never felt this good.”

Neither have I.

I’ve never had a lover that consumed me the way this woman has. I’d do anything for her at this point. I’d swim to shore if she asked me to.

That reminds me…

“We’re docking soon at one of the ports.” I keep touching her in the slow and steady pace that I sense she needs right now.

I’m in no hurry to make her come because I know the reward that awaits me when she does. She’ll moan out my name and it’ll echo in my ears until it fades again.

Her lips tremble as she glances at me. “Are you going ashore?”

I answer that by kissing her. This time I glide my lips over hers, forcing my way between them by biting her softly. I deepen the kiss to show her that the only thing I want today is her.

When the kiss breaks, she smiles slightly. “I don’t want to either.”

“I know,” I say confidently.

“I want to suck you off,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “You haven’t given me a chance to do that yet.”

She’s right. I haven’t. I’ve been a greedy bastard since we got into this bed together. I’ve taken what I wanted over and over again, always being sure to keep her satisfied.

I quicken the pace of my fingertip on her clit as I slide two fingers into her channel. She lets out a sound that clenches my heart within my chest. “Delia.”

“I’m going to…” she finishes the sentence with a groan so loud that it bounces off the walls. “Oh, God.”

I stare at her, at the beauty before me as she loses herself in her first orgasm of the day.

As she falls from the high, her tongue skims over her bottom lip. “I’m hungry for you.”

Her stomach growls softly indicating that she’s hungry for more than just my cock.

I chuckle deeply. “Food first, my Delia.”

“Your Delia,” she repeats, her eyes shining bright. “I like that.”

I fucking love it.

I rake a hand through her messy blonde hair to smooth it back from her forehead. I place a soft kiss there, lingering to take in the natural intoxicating scent of her skin.

I could fall for this woman. I could lose myself to her. Dammit. I feel as though I already am.

“What’s there to eat?” She stretches out, her beautiful body on full display.

I take it in because there’s no way I won’t savor each moment I’m gifted with this; with her in my presence, open and exposed in every possible way.

“Food,” I answer because I can’t think straight.

She smiles. “Eggs, maybe? Scrambled, and do you think they have pancakes and some fresh fruit? I love fresh fruit in the morning.”

Berries in particular, I want to add, but that’s another sign of how carefully I’ve studied her social media profiles. I’ve seen enough posts of her eating a big bowl of berries to know they rank on her list of favorite foods.

“I’ll get all of that for you,” I promise, hoping that the chefs on this ship can accommodate that request. “Coffee, too?”

“Yes, please.” She nods. “With a splash of cream.”

I save that to memory because maybe in some off chance we’ll cross paths in a café in Manhattan and I’ll be able to buy her a coffee.

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