Page 56 of Mr. Brightside
Wespentmostofthe day by the pool, in another private cabana Jake reserved for us. He participated in the afternoon water slide races again and has made friends with every person age six to ninety-six at this resort. I was relieved when he suggested we stay in and order room service tonight. Taking him back up to Cousteau’s would be a guaranteed multi-hour experience, given his extroverted-ness and instant popularity with the other guests.
Now we’re back in the villa. Showered and clean. Full and satisfied. We both know exactly what comes next.
There’s nothing hurried or frantic about tonight, though. There’s this thread of tension and want buzzing between us, but it’s not desperate or needy like before. It’s solid. It’s confident. It’s sure. Which is exactly how I feel when I look at my husband.
I’m watching him strip out of his clothes, reveling in the way he keeps looking over like he’s going to eat me alive as he unbuckles his belt and peels off his shirt.
Fuck, I want him so much.
And I get him. I get all of him.
He’s standing in nothing but a pair of white Calvin Kleins, with a bottle of Oak and Cane rum in one hand.
Where the hell did he get that? And why does he look even hotter while holding it?
“I got your favorites right here,” he teases as he grips the neck of the bottle and runs his other hand down his dick.
I don’t bother arguing. Florida rum and his cock really are two of my favorite things.
“Less talk, more action. Get your dick inside me, Jake.”
His eyes light up at my crudeness, and this time, I make a mental note of his reaction. For as filthy as his mouth is, I’m starting to think my man loves to be on the receiving end of dirty talk just as much as he likes to dish it out.
He approaches the bed slowly, making me ache for him a little more with each drawn-out step.
“Get naked, baby. I want you completely stripped down and on that bed, ready for me,” he rasps.
His wish is my command. I can’t get my clothes off fast enough. I kneel toward the middle of the mattress and can’t help but clench my ass in anticipation.
He must notice, because he chuckles as he joins me. He mounts me and straddles the top of my thighs, his body weight pushing me forward in the most delicious way.
“Hold on to the headboard,” he murmurs in my ear as he runs his hands up and down my naked form. After all the ways we’ve teased and played today, I’m surprised he doesn’t want to at least kiss me. Maybe he’s just as anxious as I am.
But then I notice he’s still holding the bottle of rum, along with a jar of something else. And that’s when I realize thisishis foreplay.
He kisses me across the shoulders as he smears something up and down my spine.
“What are you doing?” I ask, craning back and get a better look.
He holds the jar in front of my face so I can read the label. It’s coconut oil in solid form, but when exposed to the heat of my body, it melts into my skin. That’s what he’s spreading all over me.
“I’m a bartender, baby. And you’ve got these two perfect little back dimples that have been taunting me all weekend. I’m mixing myself a double shot back here.”
My cock throbs in response to his words.
Fuck. Yes.
His hands glide over the ridges of my back in hot, demanding strokes. The slickness created by the coconut oil is mesmerizing. With each caress, he travels lower, digging his hands into my muscles until he’s kneading my ass. I’m holding back a moan with each and every touch, feeling so desperate for him to hit home.
He works the coconut oil along my crack, but doesn’t pay any attention to my hole.
“Tease,” I grunt when he goes back to his ministrations without so much as a brush against where I’m aching for him.
“What was that?” he asks impishly. I don’t have to turn around to know he’s grinning. “I’ll give you a tease,” he mutters on his next breath.
Suddenly his hands are off my back and spreading me wide. He cups my balls in one hand, then digs his nails into the flesh of my ass with the other. I practically buck off the bed when I feel the warmth of his breath skim my hole.
He licks up and down my perineum, my body quivering in anticipation of where he’ll go next.