Page 30 of Dreamboat

I love how it feels to fuck her, to be in the same room with her, to breathe the air she does. Hell, I feel honored to walk this earth during her lifetime.

I must have done something worthwhile to be granted this experience; this time with her.

She moans as my cock slips into her. The rawness of it, the heat from the water and the look in her eyes is all I need to move just enough that I’m fully inside her tight little pussy.

She rocks against me, fucking me slowly. “Ah, yes. It’s so fucking good.”

I stare at her face, watching her eyelids flutter shut as she ups her pace.

My hips start to move. Small waves crash against our legs as we fuck each other.

“Delia,” I whisper her name even though I don’t want this moment to end. I’m so fucking close to coming already. So goddamn close to blowing my load inside of her. “Delia.”

Our eyes meet and realization hits her immediately. “No condom.”

I nod. “No condom.”

“I’m on the pill,” she reminds me as she pulls back slightly. “I’m clean.”

“Me too,” I tell her as I stare into her eyes. “Tell me to stop if it’s what you need.”

“I want to feel...” Her voice trails. “I want to keep feeling what I’m feeling now.”

I want that too, but forever.

Her hands move to my shoulders. She digs her fingernails into my skin. “Why is it this good?”

“Our bodies were made for each other,” I whisper the words without thinking. “I was made to fuck you.”

Her eyes widen. Desire swims in them. “So do it.”

I want more so I haul her to her feet, press her against the wall surrounding the tub and enter her from behind.

She cries out as soon as I’m buried balls deep.

I take her hard with a furious need that I can’t control. I reach around to her clit, fingering it because I know it’ll send her over the edge.

It does.

She comes around my cock, her pussy pulsing as I push deeper and deeper still and as soon as the unmistakable rush of desire runs through me, I pull out and shoot my load all over her ass.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Donovan

Panic shoots through me when I hear the sound of a groan echo through my room. It’s dark except for the light streaming onto the bed from the windows. I didn’t bother to lower the blinds since no one can see in and the view of the ocean is just beyond my reach behind the glass.

It may only be visible as a reflective surface for the moon at the moment, but Delia labeled it as romantic so as we drifted off to sleep with her wrapped in my arms, I watched the moon as we passed it on our journey toward the next port. It’s the last one before the ship heads back to Miami.

“Delia?” I whisper, patting the mattress next to me.

I’m not surprised in the least that she’s not there.

“Delia?” I say her name louder this time, hoping she’ll offer a response. It may only be another groan but it’ll serve as a beacon to draw me to where she is.

“In here,” she calls out from the washroom.

I look in that direction. The door is slightly ajar but it’s dark behind it.

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