Page 119 of Dagger in the Sea

On the boatback to town Adri talked non-stop about how the island had been a hotspot for hikers and eco-tourists for years now, and how she admired Niko for doing what he really wanted, how it would benefit the island. We never picked up that tense conversation of ours from earlier.

Back in town, we picked up sausage from a butcher shop, and headed for the house. No sign of our friend in brown leather. At the house, Adri headed straight for the kitchen and got right to work. She wanted to make me the island specialty for lunch. A frittata with spicy sausage and fried potatoes.

“My grandmother taught me how to makefourtáliaright here in this kitchen,” Adri said, scooping up fried potatoes from the pan of bubbling olive oil.

The slices of locally made fennel sausage sizzled in the pan, filling the kitchen with their sweet, smoky fragrance. She handed me a wire whisk, and I whipped the eggs, an unusual rich orange color in the white ceramic bowl. This is what farm fresh looked like. She took the bowl from me and slid the contents into the pan and the eggs bubbled furiously. She added the fried potatoes, lowered the heat, and covered the skillet.

I poured the wine.

She wiped her hands on a towel. “Now we wait.”

I took our wine glasses to the round table in the center of the kitchen as she cleaned up the counter. I’d barely said a word the past hour. Seeing her and Niko together stuck in my throat like a fishbone. The perfect pair. Easygoing friendship between peers, both ridiculously attractive, practically finishing each other’s sentences.

Adri folded a kitchen towel and dropped it by the sink. I held out my hand to her. She came forward, reached out and took my hand. I said nothing. No funny remarks this time, no witty observations. She stood still before me, a quizzical, uneasy look crossing her face.

I was about to be very clear.

“Get on your knees.”

Her eyes widened.

I squeezed her hand hard. “Do it.”

She got on her knees between my legs and I pressed a thumb along the edge of those fucking glorious lips.

“Suck my cock, Lovely.”

The taut lines of her face relaxed, and my pulse kicked up at the sight. She wanted this. She liked my frankness. She pulled on the drawstring of my bathing suit trunks and tugged them down. My hard dick sprang out of the fabric, and she took in an audible breath.

I did too.

I was exposed to her, and she took me in. My ab muscles tightened, my balls stiffened under her study of my cock. Admiring, deciding, planning, designing. Chest heaving.

Her lips parted as she curled a hand around my shaft and rubbed from base to tip. Her grip was firm, sure, rough. She brought my aching hardness to her mouth and her tongue laid a hot trail around the tip.

Ah fuck.

Around and around. Impatient, I fisted a hand in her hair, the other on top of her head and brought my pelvis up. My dick slid deeper in her wet mouth, and she immediately took me down her throat. Challenge taken.

Well done, baby.

“Yes.” A hiss escaped my tense mouth.

She was smooth. Her pressure just right, taking me down a whirlpool of explosive feeling, all of it burning in my spine, bunching in my balls, feeding my lust and feeding her with it. She knew what she was doing.

She sucked faster, a hand cupping me firmly, stroking with a twisting motion. She worked me, her eyes lifting to mine, her tits squeezing out of her bikini top under the tunic. I reached down her back under the blousy tunic and snapped open the clasp of her bikini top, and it fell from her body. I filled my hand with a breast, kneading it roughly. Her taking me in hand was everything right this fucking second. Everything raw, everything slick.

I pumped harder into her mouth. A moan escaped her full lips which stretched around my dick, streaming with her saliva. “Fuck me with that mouth, Adri. Fuck me good,” I said, my voice harsh, low, insistent. I stroked her other tit hard.

All of her would be mine soon enough.

My eyes jammed shut and the blood simmered through my veins. My hands cradled her face, keeping her there, and I exploded. She sucked, sucked, sucked it all fucking down. I released my grip on her, and she slowed her pace, still licking, still—

She kissed the glistening tip of my dick and a smile danced across her wet lips.

“So good,” I managed, mesmerized.

She kneeled back on her haunches, her hands stroking my thighs. I handed her a glass of wine and she drank. “Thefourtáliamust be ready,” she murmured, handing me back the wine glass.

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