Page 118 of Mark

Her eyelids flutter open, and her gaze seems to burn into me, filled with need and want. “Nope.”

My eyes narrow as I force my dick in deeper, making her eyes close. “What do you mean no?”

“I’m imagining a man in leather trousers, his chest ripped as fuck, and he’s worshipping my body,” she sniffs, which soon turns into a moan when I grip her throat gently.

“You’re a little minx,” I growl.

“And you said this would be quick,” she retorts.

“I did, didn’t I,” I muse, ripping her bikini top down. Her tits spring free and I grip her hips, using her as leverage as I fuck her into the counter.

Items on the counter rattle so hard, some begin to fall to the wooden floor at our feet.

“Oh fuck!” she hisses, digging her nails into my shoulder.

I drill into her, the intensity surpassing this being a simple fuck. There is an insatiable hunger driving me, causing me to fuck her hard and fast.

I know from the tightening in my balls that I won’t last much longer. “Play with yourself,” I order when I notice her hand has slipped away.

Once her hand is on her clit, I lean forward, capturing her nipple between my teeth. I apply the tiniest bit of pressure, knowing what she likes and dislikes.

Her walls clench around my cock seconds before her back arches off the counter. I growl low in my throat, gripping her hips and fucking her with force until I explode inside her.

She drops back on the counter, letting out a breath. “As much as I want to take a minute, we really should get dressed before someone walks in.”

I chuckle as I put her bikini top right. I grab a towel off the shelf next to us before sliding out. I wipe her clean before wiping myself.

“Eww, what are you going to do with that now?” she asks. I chuck it on the side as I pull my shorts back up. Her eyes widen at the towel. “You can’t leave it there.”

“Why? It’s a store room.”

“Dude, how pissed off would you be if you got out of a shower, only to grab a towel covered in spunk? This is clean supplies not a laundry room.”

I bite my lower lip, glancing at the towel because she has a point. “I’m not carrying it through the halls back to my cabin.”

She glances around the small room, her eyebrows arching. “What if we spill one of the bottles of bleach onto it?”

I tilt my head to the side. “I don’t think that will clean it.”

She rolls her eyes and jumps down. She pinches the towel between her fingers and moves it over to the pile I grabbed it from, then unscrews the cap on a bottle of bleach a little before tipping it against the towels. “There, that should do it.”

“Let’s get out of here,” I suggest, grabbing her hand and moving over towards the door. I push down the handle and pull but nothing happens. I try again, my brows furrowing when it doesn’t open.

“Um…” Freya muses, pointing to the black thing above the handle. “I think it’s key card activated.”

“What?” I ask.

“I think that’s card activated like all the doors,” she states.

“But we aren’t trying to get in. We are trying to get out.”

She snorts. “Let’s hope our captain loves your uncle enough to let us stay on the boat.”

I try again, pushing the handle down, to no avail. “We can’t be locked in here. We’ll miss dinner.”

“You are worried about food when we are about to be caught in a staff only room?”

“Yes. There’s nothing in here to eat. I won’t survive,” I screech. “Oh God, if I’m not back in my room, Liam will find my stash of sweets and eat everything.”

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