does that mean?" He steps back, and my lower body lifts above the water. His hands knead the flesh on my ass and guide me a few more inches on his cock.
When my mouth opens to gasp for air, he sticks his tongue in my mouth.
My hands slide to the back of his head and forearms press on his shoulders. I pop my body up, and he reinforces his arms around me, so there's no more room between us.
His flesh pounds against mine. The scent of him intoxicates me. His kisses consume every morsel of my existence, igniting desperation so deep within me that it's like a match striking the box and ready to burn everything in its wake.
The desperation is a wrecking ball going full speed and something I'm not able to stop.
And I know it's going to crash into me and crumble me to pieces. I want him too much. There hasn't been anyone I've looked twice at or even had a choice about in years.
Instead of moving out of harm's way, I push the lever for the ball to fly. Rocking my hips faster, I shudder while taking all of him in and mutter, "I didn't grow up there."
He groans as a jaguar howls in the night air and monkeys screech. His tongue slides back in my mouth, and he thrusts into me.
"Oh...oh."
What am I doing?
Oh God. He feels so good.
You should stop.
"Where then, my Little Diva?" he murmurs then moves his mouth down my neck, leaving my skin buzzing and blood pounding harder.
I don't answer. Instead, I whimper and cling to him, shaking and meeting his every thrust in a perfect paradise of pleasure.
"Tell me." He nibbles on my earlobe and flicks his tongue behind it.
"I...oh God!" I scream as he thrusts hard and a surge of endorphins ricochets and rips through my core.
An owl hoots and birds squawk as I come down from my high, but he explodes so forcefully that I tremble into another orgasm.
I hide my face in his neck, trying to catch my breath.
What did you just do?
I haven't had an orgasm since Antonio. And that was before I asked him to help, and he forced himself on me. Even before that night, I was always high.
He slides his fingers through my hair and kisses my forehead before tilting my head up. The fire is still in his eyes, smoldering hot, and he claims me once more with his kisses.
And I want him to—the need for him to be mine burns through my veins.
"What did I get wrong?" his deep voice pulls me out of my trance.
Self-preservation kicks in. I release my legs from around him. When I'm standing on my own, I dip down into the water and rinse my lower body off, cursing myself that I had sex without a condom.
And he doesn't seem worried about it, so I'm sure he never uses one.
Way to be self-destructive.
I push away from him and walk toward the land. "I grew up poor, on a berry farm. If anyone knows country, I do."
9
Dirk
There are times when you know that you just got it wrong and my gut drops so fast I could be on a rollercoaster.
Zoe grew up on a farm?
How did I not know that?
Our previous conversation replays in my mind, and I cringe. But I'm not sure how I could have missed that. Every notification that pops up on my social media feeds regarding her I read and mostly, more than once. I spin and follow her. "Wait. I read an article several years ago that your manager discovered you in Mexico City. You had been singing in the bars since you were fourteen."
"That's correct."
"Mexico City is a cosmopolitan megalopolis. I've been there."
She steps out of the water, glowing in the moonlight. Water drips down her curves, and I want to reach out and pull her in my arms, but she looks pissed. Instead, I rifle quickly through my bag and find the towel and hand it to her.
Her eyes scan over me, but then she says, "Stare much?"
I don't take my eyes off her. "Dry off before the bugs bite you."
She takes the towel and dries herself off, then throws it at me.
"Are you going to tell me what I'm missing?"
"Nope." She pulls her shorts up.
Great. I dry off, throw the towel on a tree limb to air out, and put my clothes on.