Page 13 of Isle of Beauty

He curls the digits just so and I almost come right then by looking at him looking at me. And then he stops and bites my inner thigh again and I let go.

“Please.”

His mouth is on me before I’m even done.

That’s what I’m reduced to. A begging mess, calling out his name. The freedom the small submission gives me is so arousing I come in a wave taking everything in its wake, obliterating me.

Pierce doesn’t let up and brings me back down gently. He keeps his fingers in and curled. “Give me one more, mo cara. You look so pretty when you come.”

My clit throbs from overstimulation and I fist his hair in my hand, yanking to remove him from my core.

He grabs both my hands in one of his, keeping my wrists together before coming back to fingering me and eating me.

I’m begging for him to stop. Or continue. I don’t know anymore.

The pleasure is so intense I feel like I’m floating. I come again, this time longer, deeper, white light all I can see behind my closed eyelids.

His tongue laps up at my core slowly before he gets up and releases my wrists. Picking me up from the counter, he holds me to his chest and sits on the sofa, arranging my body on his lap like I’m nothing but a doll.

My limbs feel heavy and used.

He’s still fully clothed and I’m naked but for my heels. That might be the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.

His embrace is intimate, providing a safe space where emotion can overwhelm me without negative repercussions.

My throat closes up in an effort to hold back tears.

One of his hands pets my hair while the other makes small circles on my hip, crushing me to his warm chest, cocooning me like something precious, like I’m someone to cherish.

This is the last time I’ll do something just for myself. The immensity of what I’m about to do next week is threatening to crush me and push me in a dark place I'm not sure I can crawl out of. So I let this stranger who’s made me feel like I’m special hold me, soothe me. And I let the tears silently trail down my cheeks hoping he won’t notice.

“You did so well”, “my perfect girl” comes out of his mouth in a soft whisper but I barely register the sound or the meaning. It doesn’t make sense because I’m not his, we barely know each other. It just feels so right.

I don’t want to move. I’ll be selfish about this. I want him to care for me while it’s still dark outside. I can pretend I’m not about to marry a man twenty years my elder for power and loyalty to my family. I can pretend that when I wake up, Pierce and I can start dating and do normal shit normal people do.

In the safety of his arms, with secrets hidden deep in my heart, sleep claims me.

SIX

LANA

ESPRESSO OR CAPPUCCINO?

Iwake up to the sound of rain. No, not rain. A shower. It takes me a minute to remember where I am. I’m unable to think clearly, still stuck between sleeping and awake.

I’m in a bed, tucked under dark blue soft sheets and a heavy comforter weighing on me as if to tug me back to the land of dreams. I force myself to sit up and rest my back against the headboard.

It all comes back to me and my smile grows. I almost giggle at what happened last night.

What the fuck? I don’t giggle.

The sun peeks through the thick beige curtains covering the floor to ceiling windows. I’m in a comfortable king size bed with a padded headboard resting against a wooden panelled wall. The other walls are painted in a soft grey colour that gives the space a serenity I wouldn’t expect in a bachelor’s pad.

A chest of drawers and a huge wardrobe face the bed and from where I sit, I can only see a framed picture of Pierce and who I guess is his mother and a watch. Other than these two items that clearly identify the space as Pierce’s bedroom, it’s empty of anything personal.

I don’t recall being carried here. The sheets are cold next to me and the pillow seems unrumpled so it doesn’t look like Pierce slept next to me but I can’t be sure. I really passed out.

Ants crawl up my skin. This whole situation is way more intimate than I originally planned for. I never even wanted to sleep here but my brain had to go all mushy and emotional on me, that fucking traitor. It’s hard to regret it though when it was the best sleep I’ve had in years.

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