Page 67 of The Hitchhiker in Panama
The next afternoon, I woke up from my second nap of the day to find Eivind reading next to me in bed. I quickly checked the pillow under my face for drool—it was dry—and sat up.
“What time is it?”
Eivind rolled over and glanced at his phone. “Four forty-five. We still have a few hours before dinner.”
I grunted and buried my face back into my pillow. Eivind chuckled and resumed reading, but a few minutes later I rolled over and grabbed my e-reader too. I snuggled into Eivind’s body and he wrapped an arm around me.
“No more sleeping?”
“Yeah, nah. I’m awake. I’ll see how it feels reading for a little bit.”
We read quietly together for a few minutes, but then Eivind put his book down. His fingers came up and stroked my hair while I read. He rolled into me a little and kissed my forehead, my temple, and down to my ear.
“How do you feel?” he whispered.
I smiled. “Not as good as you, but I like where this is going.”
Eivind plucked my e-reader from between us and set it down behind him. When he returned, he cupped my jaw with his hand, tilting my face up. His lips coaxed mine open for a deep, sweeping kiss, and we both inhaled.
“If you feel too seasick, tell me, yes?”
I nodded and pulled him back down to my mouth. Eivind rolled over me, his hands pushing up my tank top and wedging between my back and the bed.
We kissed and panted, grinding together through our clothes, trying to find an impossible rhythm while the boat moved around under us. Eivind was patient, but his body strained harder the longer we went.
I pushed him off me and began to undress: no finesse, no teasing. Thankfully, Eivind stripped too, and we tumbled back into bed together.
My head rested on his forearm; his legs tangled with mine. Eivind’s hard cock rested against my hip, a touch of dampness on my skin while his fingers trailed over my torso.
His hand slid between my legs and he groaned at the wetness he found there. Teasing me, he used a gentle touch and I gasped, pulling away to breathe. Eivind moved to kiss down my neck, then gently sucked on my shoulder.
His fingers slid around me and into me over and over again, and my body strained, pinned down beneath his hips.
Finally I begged, “Please!”
“Show me exactly how you like it,” he rasped in my ear.
I put his finger to the perfect spot and applied just the right pressure. A few strokes and I cried out, coming underneath him.
Cool air touched my skin where Eivind had been. I turned my head to watch him roll on a condom and he crawled back onto the bed, kneeling between my legs. He put a hand on my thigh, pushing my leg up. I moved my other leg up too, opening myself further. Eivind guided himself in and pressed deep, his eyes clenched shut in pleasure.
He gripped both of my thighs, spreading my legs wide and pushing my knees closer to my chest. Tilting his head, he gazed down as he delivered a slow stroke in and out of my body.
He did it again, and I watched his abs as he rolled his hips, the muscles contracting and releasing.
I reached for a pillow and pulled it down, using it to prop up my head so I could watch Eivind better. I tilted my hips a bit more, and I could fully see our bodies joining.
Eivind shifted to give himself a better angle and grip and he started stroking, building up a rhythm. With every press, I wiggled a little further up the bed, until Eivind had to adjust again. He pulled out, pressed his hands on my butt cheeks, and pushed me all the way up the bed.
“Hands on the wall,” he commanded.
I pressed my palms into the wall as Eivind pushed back in. With us working together, he thrust harder, building us both up. Eivind squeezed the back of my thighs with his hands.
“Lila,” he panted. “Can you come again?”
I repositioned and used one hand on myself. Eivind swore, his eyes round and dilated, watching me touch myself. He kept up the pace, driving me steadily toward climax.
“Fuck! Lila, hurry!” he pleaded.
