Page 55 of Rum Sips and Salty Lips

He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on mine. “I’ll stop talking in a minute. But I need to know, is this just tonight?”

“Just tonight. We need to get the tension out of our systems.” Boundaries are good for both of us. We’ll fuck and that will be it.Then everything will go back to the way it was. It doesn’t have to be complicated.

“Tonight is good,” he says, but doesn’t resume the kiss.

My heart is telling me to stop this now because I’ll end up wanting more. But this is what we agree is best. It’s not like I’m waiting for table scraps from him. I know exactly what’s happening here.

One of his hands cradles the back of my head and the other is on my hip. I place one hand on each of his and take a step back, pulling us to the bed. He might be the one to strip me down, but it’s only because I let him.

His lips find mine and it’s different somehow. Soft and gentle, like he’s trying to savor me. Last time, Orion said he wouldn’t treat me like a princess. Like I was something glass that could be broken. He didn’t, and I was sore for days and loved every second of it. He somehow knew that before him, sex was something that happened to me, rather than something I was an active participant in.

That’s not what Orion is doing now. His gentleness is throwing me for a loop. I don’t need it rough; I just need him. I thought he’d fight me all the way down, but he’s not.

The back of my knees hit the bed. The jolt sends me to my back, and I prop myself up on my elbows. A second later Orion is on top of me, his hands bracing himself on either side of my head and his knees outside of my hips.

He’s strong and powerful and so fucking attractive I can barely look at him. I’m stuck in his trap. I try to wiggle away, enjoying the little bit of fighting. He grabs me and sets my head on the pillows.

“No fighting on the boat,” he whispers with a gentle nip of my earlobe and then trails kisses down my neck.

I close my eyes and focus on the feeling of his lips and the way his muscles move under my hands. I lose myself in it as Iremove his T-shirt and he removes the polo I’m wearing. Neither one of us pauses to appreciate each other’s body. Not like last time. His hand moves to my breast, and I gasp at the sensation as his thumb rubs the fabric over my nipple.

“This isn’t a win for you,” I say. He must be keeping score. He hasn’t been secretive about wanting to sleep with me again. But this isn’t me caving in to him. This is me finding peace with him.

“This is a win for us,” he responds. He struggles with my sports bra, so I take over. If there is one skill I have, it’s getting out of a sweaty sports bra.

I grab a condom out of my shorts before he pulls them down.

“Do you always carry protection in your pocket?”

“In my bag. I grabbed it when I came in here,” I admit. He resumes his position on top of me and reaches a hand between my legs, finding my already drenched core. “Preparation allows for spontaneity.”

I expect him to say something sarcastic, but he doesn’t. Instead, he moves down my body, and before I can process what he’s doing, his mouth is on my clit.

I can’t think about anything else. I only feel. My entire awareness is reduced to his fingers and his tongue and the scruff of his beard on my thighs. He teases me with one finger, and then two, curling until I see stars. It’s unfair that he knows my body so well this fast.

The rest of the world falls away. I tangle my hands in his hair so he knows he’s exactly where I want him. His strands are soft and a mess from blowing in the wind all evening. I need to focus on a different sensation, or I’ll fall into this storm too quickly. So I hold back. I can’t endure his smugness at how fast he makes me come. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since I’ve even had the time to masturbate. The last time I did, I thought of him. And I need this, badly.

But I can’t keep any of my pleasure a secret or hide from those spots that drive me wild. He knows. He’s always known. I cry out as I come, biting my lip to stop his name from escaping me.

He’s over me when I come down from the high, more relaxed than I have been in ages. I want more. He strokes my cheek and kisses me. I taste so good on him.

He’s quiet, which surprises me.

I reach for his shorts. He opens the condom and quickly sheathes himself. He places himself at my entrance. “You ready for this?”

“Yes,” I say, and he presses in.

“Fuck, you feel amazing.” He pushes in a little farther. “I’m taking this slow. You’re going to feel every inch of my cock. You’ll come again because you deserve it. And you’ll know it’s me giving you everything you need.”

Now he’s getting chatty?My instincts are to fight him, but I shouldn’t on this.

Not when sex with him feels so much like home.

I want this between us. I want him to be the only one who can make me feel good. And fuck, I want to be the only one he does this with.

He does as promised, moving slowly within my body, drawing out every movement so I feel everything intensely. His head rests against my neck and he’s kissing me or whispering something I can’t hear.

My orgasm builds slowly. A few times I think I’m about to lose it, but he keeps going, slowly testing my endurance. His hand finds mine and he intertwines our fingers and I fall over the edge. I come and my moan is silent. A few seconds later, he shudders, and I hear my name.

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