Page 28 of The Facilitator, Part 2

“We talk, I call him, you’ve spoken to him. I doubt he even knows I haven’t completely forgiven him, and I wouldn’t ever tell him that.”

“Then maybe you should make peace with yourself,” I said.

“What you wanted from life after your mother died wasn’t the same for your dad.

Some people can’t grieve in the way we want them to.

Some people can’t be alone, Mackenzie. Isn’t it wonderful he found a companion, not someone to replace your mum, but someone to fill the hole inside him? ”

He didn’t answer me immediately, in fact he didn’t answer at all. He sipped on his wine and then placed it back on the small wooden table.

“I need to cook dinner and then, if you’re still awake, I’d like for us to take a walk on that beach. Barefoot in the cool sand at night is one of the places I feel grounded.”

I sat, still staring at the sun just peeking over the horizon, fighting to spread its rays for a few more minutes before the moon took over.

My body was most certainly confused. I think it hadn’t realised we’d missed a night and I was now buzzing.

My brain was fizzing, fighting to determine if I was exhausted or wide-awake.

My limbs ached but that could have been the horse ride, and my heart skipped a beat as Mackenzie kissed the back of my neck when he passed, heading to the kitchen.

A simple steak and salad was served, more wine was poured, and we sat and chatted.

He told me all about the house, what he’d done as a child, where he’d played, fished, and sailed.

He’d hated the summer months because it meant tourists, and although his house was at the end of the beach, some would invade his space, as that end of the beach was privately owned.

When we'd eaten it was time to walk. We both kicked off our shoes and socks.

I rolled my jeans up a couple of turns and, hand in hand, we walked down the steps, across the sandy grass, and onto the beach.

It was empty, the moon was high, and where the sun had previously turned the sea orange and red, it was then shimmering with silver strands of light.

I could hear him take in deep breaths, exhale slowly, and sigh. He held my hand tight and we walked in silence. After a while, we made a turn and headed back. Before we arrived at his house, we decided to sit for a while.

“I love that sound,” I said. The waves were gently rolling onto the shore.

“If I can’t sleep, it’s the sound I bring to mind. It comforts me.”

“It must have been a huge shock leaving here for London,” I said.

“I didn’t leave here and go directly. I was in Boston for a while. I spent some time in Europe, and then London. I rented the house we’re in before I bought it. I knew I wanted to be near the city, but just outside enough to have some space and fairly clean air to breathe,” he laughed.

“Could you run your businesses from here?”

“I don’t think so, although this is a wonderful place to work. However, there is one sound I love more than those waves crashing on the sand.”

He turned towards me, wrapping his arm around my waist, and he pulled me until I tumbled on top of him. I straightened myself between his legs.

“And what sound is that, Mr. Miller?” I whispered.

“You moaning with pleasure as I fuck you. You crying out my name when you come. The sound your pussy makes when I lick it, when I fuck it with my fingers. Those are the sounds I love the most.”

I held myself above him on my forearms and lowered to kiss the lips that had said words that had me throbbing for him. As crass as he could be when he spoke of sex, those words were always so brutally honest. It was his honesty that turned me on the most.

I kissed him hard, wanting to taste every part of his mouth, his tongue, and his lips.

I nipped at his skin needing to hear his moan as much as he liked to hear mine, and was rewarded with better.

His growl as my teeth sunk into his bottom lip rolled through me, connecting with my pussy.

After pushing myself up and sitting astride him, I reached for the hem of my T-shirt and pulled it over my head.

I unclipped my bra, and unzipped my jeans, clambered to my feet and rolled my jeans and panties down my thighs.

Mackenzie sat and pulled off his T-shirt; he raised his hips to lower his jeans.

As the moonlight flitted over his naked body, he lay back down and held out his hands to me.

I lowered myself so I was lying on him; I wanted to feel his skin against mine.

He placed his hands at either side of my head, his fingers tangled in my hair.

He raised his head; his lips were a whisper away from mine.

I could feel his breath. I sucked that in wanting everything I could absorb from him.

His tongue gently swiped over my lower lip, I caught it with my own.

The heat of his mouth, the pressure of his fingers as the tips dug into my scalp, caused the moan he so liked to hear.

I could feel his erection pressing into my stomach, and I ground against him.

A gentle breeze had picked up and it whipped over my skin. I felt free, liberated.

I brought my knees up so I was raised above him.

I reached underneath to clasp his cock in my hand.

I lowered myself on him and stilled, just feeling his length inside and the throb of desire that would have his cock weeping.

I leaned down to kiss him and gently moved in time with the sweep of his tongue over mine.

As his kiss deepened, became fierce, I rocked harder against him.

I lifted my head and locked onto his gaze and raised my upper body.

I didn’t break eye contact as I rode him hard.

He held my hips, guiding me, raising his as I lowered and meeting me halfway.

I slid my knees out a little, needing to lower more so he was deeper inside.

I placed my hands on his stomach, feeling his muscles ripple and contract with effort.

I could feel the ridges of his cock against my walls.

Mackenzie took me by surprise when he sat up.

He wrapped his arms around me and turned us over.

I thought quickly enough to uncurl my legs as I landed on my back with him still inside.

He growled out my name as he rocked so hard against me.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling the sand grind against my back with every thrust. I struggled to catch my breath at times.

I panted, and I moaned. I sucked in air noisily, through my nose, when his kiss stole it from my lungs.

Tears coursed down my cheeks and I raised my hips as much as I could.

I scraped my nails down his back, his sides.

I forced my head back and I screamed out his name as my whole body convulsed in orgasm.

My stomach muscles rolled, heat burned as it travelled over my skin, and every nerve ending tingled to the point I thought I’d lose sensation in my fingertips and toes.

I couldn’t catch my breath. I was seeing sparks of light behind my eyelids, and my heart was thumping so hard I was sure Mackenzie would see it.

He lowered his head. When he sank his teeth in the skin below my collarbone and groaned, I knew he was close to coming himself.

I tightened my legs as his body went rigid.

He thrust a couple more times before he roared.

He lifted his torso, threw back his head, and actually roared.

The animalistic sound caused my core to tighten more, extending my orgasm for a few seconds longer.

Mackenzie slumped over me; I wrapped my hand around the back of his head and held him to my neck.

I straightened my legs, wincing at the tight muscles, and I let tears flow.

We lay that way for what seemed like ages.

I felt Mackenzie relax, his body moulded farther into mine.

I wondered for a moment if he’d fallen asleep, his breathing was so deep.

I ran my fingers up his back, gently scratching his skin.

He raised his head. He didn’t speak, and for a moment, I thought he might shed tears himself.

Mackenzie pushed himself up until he was kneeling.

He reached over for his T-shirt and I sat while he pulled it over my head.

It was long enough to cover my backside.

He grabbed his jeans and pulled them on, then gathered the rest of our items before holding out his hand to help me stand.

Before we moved anywhere, he cupped my cheek with his hand, using his thumb to wipe some tears away.

He kissed me very gently on both eyelids.

His hand slid down my arm and he took hold of my hand.

We walked, in silence, back to the house.

I wasn’t confused by his silence at all.

I don’t think I had words myself. Something had changed, a deeper connection had been found between us.

I hadn’t believed that possible, but I felt him.

I felt my love for him and his love for me in every fibre of my muscles, every cell in my body, my heart swelled and pumped for him.

I wanted to break down and sob because that deeper connection overwhelmed me.

Mackenzie carried on walking up the stairs and along a landing.

We passed two doors until we reached the one at the end.

He opened it and stood aside so I could enter his bedroom.

A vast bed was angled in the middle of the room so it looked out through a floor-to-ceiling window.

The sash was pushed open a little and sheer drapes ruffled in the gentle breeze.

“The shower is this way,” he whispered.

I pulled off his T-shirt as he stepped out of his jeans.

He turned on the shower and we stepped in together.

He washed my skin with a natural sponge, soaking it in the jets of water and squeezing it over my back.

He soaped my arse and the bubbles that ran down my legs had me hot for him again.

I turned, and he rubbed the sponge over my breasts in circular movements, down my stomach until I parted my legs, and he washed my pussy.

I held his arms; I could feel the same shake to him that was travelling over my body.

Fresh tears left my eyes as desire built.

He dropped the sponge and fell to his knees.

I came in less than a minute after he sucked and licked at my clitoris.

I was glad for him when my legs gave way.

He stood and scooped me up. With water dripping from my body, he carried me into the bedroom.

He didn’t lay me on the bed but sat me on a chaise that stood at the end of it.

He walked back into the bathroom and returned with the fluffiest, large white towel.

While he drip-dried, he ran the towel over me, soaking up the droplets of water.

My skin goose bumped, I shivered, and it wasn’t with cold.

When he thought I was dry enough, he picked me up and carried me to the bed.

There, he did lay me down and he climbed on beside me.

I was thankful there was no air conditioning in the bedroom; if there was, it was on low.

I didn’t want to sleep with damp skin in a cold room, but damp skin with heat still coursing over me and the gentle warm breeze from the open window was perfect.

“Something has changed,” I whispered, as I closed my eyes.

“I know…I know,” he replied. I didn’t hear anything more as I drifted into sleep.