“Private island, romantic tent—I can see how this would be a hit with the ladies.”
“Since you’re the first lady I’ve shown this place to, you tell me. Am I getting lucky tonight?”
“Unless you tell me this is all fake and I’m actually on some kind of twisted reality show, you are definitely getting lucky tonight.”
“Not going to play coy?” He grinned. “I like how you know what you want.”
We took a seat on the soft blankets and just as I was about to relax, my stomach growled.
Vincent laughed. “That’s a familiar sound.”
“I can’t help it. Sometimes my body just does what it wants.”
“You have an amazing body.” He reached over to an ice chest and opened it to reveal an assortment of meats and veggies inside. “Let’s feed it.”
We cooked shish kabobs over the fire and ate to our stomachs’ content. By the time we finished, the sun had gone down and only the dim glow of the moon and the torches nearby provided light.
“I’m stuffed,” I said patting my belly.
“Any room for dessert?”
“Does it include blindfolds?”
He smiled and shook his head. Then he pulled out a bowl of strawberries from the cooler along with a bottle of chocolate syrup.
“Yum yum,” I said, licking my lips. “Chocolate-covered strawberries are always a good choice.”
He picked a plump one up by the stem and doused the tip in rich chocolate. “Open wide.”
I closed my eyes and opened my mouth wide.
“You’re closing your eyes, Kristen. You don’t have to.”
“I want to, though. You taught me to isolate sensations and I like that.”
I could hear him smile. Then I felt the strawberry enter my mouth and I bit into the soft flesh.
“Mmm. So good,” I murmured between chews.
We took turns feeding one another with strawberries and before long, we had finished the batch. Vincent put the bowl back in the cooler and said, “It’s dark. We should head back to the cabin.”
He twisted at the waist to reach for the cooler lid and I tugged on his outstretched leg. “Wait, there’s something else I want for dessert.”
He gave me a puzzled look as I crawled toward him. Snaking between his legs, I grabbed his waist and began unzipping his shorts.
“What are you doing?” he asked, as I pulled down his zipper and kissed the bottom row of his stone abs. The muscles beneath were hard but the surface of his skin was softer than I’d expected.
“I want to taste you, Vincent,” I purred.
He gripped my shoulders firmly but gently. “We’re out in the open. Someone might see us.”
Fingers in the waistband of his boxer-briefs, I paused. “I thought you said we were alone on this island.”
“We are. But we’re exposed. Ships pass by here. Let’s go back to the cabin.”
I yanked his pants and underwear down, freeing the stiff erection I knew would be there. I playfully slapped his cock, causing it to wobble side to side and making him groan. “You’re not afraid of having sex on your plane with a flight attendant twenty feet away but you’re afraid of having sex on your private island with no one around. Gimme a break.”
“It’s riskier here. They could snap photos and it’ll be in the tabloids. I don’t want you to have to deal with that.”
“It’s dark. I doubt there are ships and even if there are, I doubt they’d see us.” His c**k rested heavily on his belly and I licked the underside from the base to the tip.
He groaned, the vibration making my ni**les tighten. His hands around my shoulders constricted. “Your employers could find out if there are pictures,” he said, voice strained.
“They won’t.”
“Let’s just go—”
I took him into my mouth, sucking his heated flesh vigorously like the most decadent lollipop I’d ever tasted. He gasped and groaned painfully, growing harder by the second. I scarcely registered his hands moving from my shoulders to my hair, conveniently pulling strands away from my face as I went down on him; I was too busy enjoying the fierce throbbing sensation in my mouth. It wasn’t the first time I’d given oral, but it was the first time I’d given it to Vincent and I wanted it to be memorable for both of us.
I began rolling my tongue over the tip as I sucked him greedily.
“Oh. No. Kristen,” he cried, biting off the words.
I gripped his hips and pulled myself deeper then shallower then deeper again in a smooth cadence, enjoying the hard fullness of him in my mouth. Saliva covered his c**k making it slick and harder to grip. My lips tightened, clenching him stronger and with more pressure, each milking stroke tighter than the previous. Each of his male groans came more anguished than the last, turning me on intensely.
“Fuck, Kristen,” he snarled. “Fuck it all.”
His grip on my hair tightened and he began short hasty thrusts into my mouth, deeper than I had been taking him, but not far enough for me to gag. With his hand behind my head, gently guiding me and his hips pumping softly but urgently, I could feel him growing hotter, his need growing more desperate. The warm taste in my mouth became faintly salty, a distinct trace of his arousal. I thought he’d climax at any moment and I was ready to take him.
All of him.
He pulled me away, my lips making a popping sound when they released suction from his c**k head. “I need to taste you,” he growled.
In a frenzy of lust, he laid me on my back and tore off my shirt along with my skirt and panties, tossing everything behind him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my clothes accidentally land in the fire pit and burst into flames but heated lust overrode rational thought. If I had to walk around naked on Vincent’s island, so be it.
Chest heaving, I spread my legs and he promptly positioned himself between them. He dipped his head and took one aching breast into his mouth, sucking and licking around the tip. He lightly pinched the tip between his teeth and pulled firmly. I gasped at the sensation, the ache in my chest traveling down between my thighs and making me clench my legs around his waist.
I saw him reach for the syrup and shake the bottle impatiently. He turned the nozzle upside down and began squirting chocolate across my chest. I gasped at the cool sensation. The first squiggles of chocolate were done haphazardly across my chest then he slowed down, making careful spirals around each tender breast. After putting the finishing touch on each tip, he cast the bottle aside and took a moment to admire his work.