Page 50 of Fragile Hearts

She smiles, her eyes closed. “Maybe,” she says. “I hardly ever just chill like this. It’s nice.”

“It is nice,” I say, sitting up on the lounge so I’m facing her. “You know what else is nice?”

“What?” she asks, her eyes still closed.

With a grin, I stand, reaching down to pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. Sloane squeals, and I laugh, my hand on her ass as I turn and walk us toward the pool. “A post-lunch dip,” I say before I jump into the pool, taking us both in.

When we surface, Sloane is laughing, her arms wrapping around my neck and her legs around my waist as I hold her in my arms. There is no one else around, the pool is completely empty except for us as I make my way over to where the waterfall cascades down the rocks. Ducking behind it, I carry Sloane into the small cave that’s hidden in the rock face.

“Oh wow,” she breathes out before I crush my mouth against hers in a hard kiss.

Sloane’s legs tighten around my waist as she kisses me back, our teeth and tongues and lips colliding in a hungry, almost desperate kiss.

“Fuck, you are gorgeous,” I murmur against her mouth.

Sloane smiles at me, unlocking her arms as she drags her hands across my shoulders and down my chest to my stomach. “So are you,” she whispers, her hands moving lower still until she reaches the waistband of my shorts. As her fingers play with the tie, she looks up at me, a question in her eyes.

Grinning, I say, “Whatever you want, Sloane, I’m yours.”

Her smile turns wicked as she licks her lips and tugs on the tie of my boardshorts, pulling them open. I watch as she runs her fingertips slowly down the trail of hair before they disappear inside my shorts.

“Holy shit,” I breathe out as they brush against the head of my cock.

Sloane grins, leaning in to kiss me again as she shuffles her hips a little so she can wrap her hand around me.

“Fuck, Sloane,” I groan, crushing my mouth against hers. “What are you doing?”

She giggles around our kisses as she slowly starts to stroke me. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

I groan again, my hands moving to her ass, my fingers digging into her flesh. “You...you don’t...” I stammer, unable to form words.

“You want me to stop?” she asks, her hand stilling, her grip still tight around my dick.

“Fuck no,” I breathe out. “You just don’t have to?—”

“Shhhh,” she whispers, kissing me as she once again starts to move her hand in long, slow strokes that have my heart pounding like a motherfucker in my chest. “I want to,” she adds, kissing me again as her grip tightens and she brushes her thumb across the head of my cock.

I want her too because this is something that I have dreamed about for so fucking long. And shit, my dreams have had nothing on the reality of Sloane’s hands on me. Everything she’s doing feels fucking incredible, and I don’t ever want her to stop.

A growl rumbles in my chest as my hands now slip beneath her bikini bottoms, gripping her ass hard as she continues to jerk me off behind the waterfall. It’s probably kind of wrong of us, doing this in the hotel pool before it’s even opened, but right now, I give zero shits about any of that.

“Jesus, you’re gonna make me come,” I murmur around our kisses.

“Good,” she says, smiling against my mouth as her grip tightens even more and she ups the tempo.

“Fuck, Sloane, fuck, fuck,” I growl, my hips now moving in time with her strokes.

She continues kissing me, her hand moving in my shorts, and when she brushes her thumb against the head of my cock again, it’s enough to send me flying over the edge, coming hard in her hand inside my shorts.

“Oh my fucking god,” I breathe out, my head falling to her shoulder as I bury my face against her neck.

Sloane laughs, slowing the movement of her hand as my dick jerks a couple more times before she finally pulls it free. I lift my head, our gazes meeting, and when they do, Sloane smiles at me before leaning in to press the softest of kisses against my lips.

“You, Owen Sinclair, have the most perfect dick.”

I burst out laughing, pulling her close, my shorts still undone and my semi-hard dick now pressed against her pussy. “And you, Sloane Anderson, are a wicked, wicked woman,” I tell her, kissing her again.

“Am I?” she asks, a playful smile on her face.

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