Page 79 of Whispers on the Water

Our lips graze as we both start panting. Even the air she’s exhaling is bringing me closer, hot and heavy, smelling a little like our pizza dinner.

“Do you want me to go faster?” I ask, barely able to croak the words out. A moan is her only response. So I dip into and out of her quicker but just as gentle, loving how easily my cock glides into her body. She reaches up and digs her fingers into my hair. Our bodies slap together, the sweat on my body pooling between us. With every move, she matches me, rocking her hips to get the pressure right where she needs it.

With an arch of her back, she licks the sweat on my neck. “You taste so good, Greg. So fucking good,” she whispers. I don’t know why, but it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard, and my balls immediately tighten up.

“You want more, Sam?”

She yells out a breathy “Yes!” and I push my tongue into her willing mouth, driving my cock between her legs at a breakneck speed. Within two pumps, I feel her walls pulse around me; I use one hand to rub at her clit while the other reaches around for that magic button between her cheeks. Sam moved her arms to grip onto my back. She’s nearly screaming with every slap of my balls against her. Like she is unraveling, coming apart right below me.

And I am fucking here for it.

My mouth twists into a satisfied snarl, tingling spreading through my entire body. Mine. She loves me, and I am going to spend the rest of my life fucking her like the treasure she is.

“Oh Greg, I’m close.” The realization that she’s ready to finish makes my pleasure skyrocket; my cock throbbing, growing impossibly harder, promising to draw every drip of indulgent desire from her body.

Finally, everything turns white, my eyes closing as I burst into her, spilling the warmth to mix with her own release. My happy dick thumps inside her, and she squeezes her core, shaking as every one of her limbs stretches out. Her breathing slows, panting and turning into long, deep breaths.

But I stay right where I am, almost laughing at how intense and passionate we had both been. When I finally push up from her and withdraw my length, I look down at my gorgeous and, thankfully, not-in-prison girlfriend.

Her eyes are closed, her breathing even. Sam is asleep. I plop down beside her, my face beaming. Internally, a small part of me is thudding my chest like King Kong. I fucked her into a sex-induced sleep coma.

She is incredibly beautiful, and I am absolutely in love. Running my hands through her hair, I cuddle up against her. Sex really sucked my energy as well, though I suppose since I’m not missing a chunk of my liver, it probably isn’t nearly as tiring for me.

I place a gentle kiss on her nose and close my eyes. I’ll ask her the question on my mind in the morning even though I am suddenly sure she will say yes.

Chapter forty-seven

Sam

One Year Later

I’m in the cold water up to my knees, pushing another large foam board into a wave. Three kids, two from our surf camp and my niece Annie, are on top of it.

I cup my hands to my mouth and shout, “Pop up!” Each of the kids rise to their feet as I wobble toward them as fast as my tired legs can carry me. But the kids are tangled around each other in their attempts to rise, and the board tilts right before each child falls into the shallow ocean.

They’re all wearing life jackets and the water was only a foot deep along the shore. I can already hear their laughter as I hurry to their side. Just as I arrive, every one of their wet faces turns to me with giant smiles.

“Again!” They all squeal in unison. Annie is the first to start sprinting back into the whitewash. The kid is fucking fearless, and I can’t help the giant grin on my face. Teaching Annie to surf has been one of the highlights of my life. She is spending the weekend at our home, excited to finally try surfing like me.

Bending over at my waist, I try to catch my breath, but it is getting more and more difficult every day. I stand back up and wave a hand in the air. Greg sees the motion and is immediately on the move, sprinting toward me. He doesn’t slow as his feet crash through the water to be at my side in an instant.

“Ready to tag out?” he asks, panting. I nod, and he grabs my hand, pulling us both toward the beach. With a loud wolf whistle, Greg hollers for my backup. Tilly’s head turned our way. She had been leaning over the bar on the beach, flirting with one of the bartenders.

As Tilly looks my way, I shrug both shoulders in a gesture of embarrassed surrender. Tilly walks our way, brushing chip crumbs off her hands as she does. “What now? I’m on my break.”

“She’s winded. Can you take over?” Greg asks. Without hesitation, Tilly hustles to the kids, grabbing the back of the board as all the children jump around in the water.

“Come on turds! Let’s shred.” The group followed her into the small waves as Greg grabs my arm.

I snatch it back in an instant. “I’m not broken. I can walk.”

He laughs. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” I snap. He holds both hands up in surrender, a smile on his lips.

My folding chair was left near the water’s edge, placed there by my annoyingly doting husband. He seemed to know I would run out of steam halfway through the lesson, but that bugged me even more.

As soon as I take a seat, Greg wraps my legs with a towel and places his hand on her giant stomach. With a feigned expression of concentration, he glances up at me. “Ope, little man’s telling me something.” He reached behind the chair into our beach bag and pulled out a bottle of water and a package of cashews. “Eat momma.”

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