laughter bursts from a wellspring deep in my soul. I am awash with delight. Being with him, laughing, arguing, teasing, it’s like stretching my legs after hours of riding in the cramped third row of an overcrowded minivan.
He reaches one of his long, thickly muscled, arms over my body. He smells like me and mangos, and for a second my wits scramble.
He plucks a slice of mango with his deft fingers. It’s perfectly ripe, the succulent flesh barely taut enough to contain the juice. My mouth waters.
I reach up and take a tiny bite of the fruit in his hand.
“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so good,” I groan at the perfect balance of sweet and sour.
He swipes at my lip, catches a dribble of juice on the pad of his thumb and sucks it into his mouth. “Hmmm, It’s good,” he muses. “But your pussy’s sweeter.”
I bite my lip, and heat suffuses my cheeks. I fan myself. “You could start fires with your mouth.” The smoldering unabashed hunger in his eyes makes my whole body tingle.
“You could start wars with that face,” he says.
I roll my eyes at his over the top praise. I have zero make up on and haven’t tried to brush my hair for two days. I know I look a fright. But Stone looks at me like I walked out of the ocean like Venus herself.
And I love it.
Being with him is like having a decadent dessert for every meal. Indulgent. Expensive. Impossible to resist. “It’s a shame we’re not alone, hmmm?” I nudge his calf with my foot.
He scans the riverbank that the rest of our excursion party is spread out across. We’re a small group made up of other couples and we’ve all retreated to private, shaded spots to eat lunch.
“All I see is you.” He picks up another juicy slice of mango and lifts it to my lips but before I can bite it, he drags it down my chin, down my chest and draws it around my nipple through the dark green fabric of my bikini top.
And then his mouth follows the sweet, sticky trail with hot open-mouthed kisses. I clutch his head and sink my teeth into my lip, to muffle my moan of delight when his lips close over the throbbing tip of my breast.
The already aching peak swells, the heat of his mouth scorching even through the fabric. My core contracts in delicious anticipation.
But we’re not even close to being alone and now that we’re off the island and making our way back to Cabo San Lucas, real life doesn’t feel as far away as it did yesterday.
Reluctantly, I let go of his head, push at his divinely muscled shoulders and manage to snake out of his hold and scrabble backwards just in time to evade his lunge.
“Stone, stop, not here!” I try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he’s so strong and he pulls me into his lap. The urgent press of his arousal nestles against my backside. His lips brush my ear and I giggle.
“Promise you’ll sit on my lap on our way back, and I’ll let you go.” he draws and my shudder in anticipation.
“I promise,” I whisper and press a kiss to his temple and draw in a lungful of his delicious sweat, and fresh air scented skin before I climb off his lap and sit cross legged next to him. I cross my arms over my chest when his gaze drops to the wet spot over my nipple.
He straightens and mimics my pose. “Fine, let’s talk.”
I chuckle at the way he says talk like it’s an expletive. “Okay. So, you were telling me why Colombia,” I refresh his memory.
I’m impressed with, but not surprised by, my ability to refocus on the conversation when my body is still so distracted by aftershocks of his attention.
Stone stimulates the most erogenous zone on my entire body - my mind. And when he’s talking to me while he’s inside me, it’s like having a full body orgasm.
He takes his cues from me and leans away a little, his eyes darting the banks of the mangrove lined river.
“I went to med school thinking I was going to be a trauma surgeon. Then I had my rotation in obstetrics. My very first delivery made a believer out of me. Babies are the only people in hospitals who aren’t there because they’re sick.”
“Do you like kids?”
He frowns and looks skyward, as if he has to ponder the answer