Page 68 of Damaged

Soft lips. Hard kiss. The light taste of smoky scotch as his tongue gently enters my mouth. But it’s only for a moment before he retreats and pulls on my bottom lip gently with his teeth.

I feel his hot breath on my neck and stare at the stars overhead as he kisses down to my breasts. There’s something not real about this moment. It’s the sound of the ocean. The taste of him.

I think he’s making it clear by not lingering on my lips—this is just sex.

Fine by me.

He takes me by the hand and leads me behind a large outcrop of rocks that shields us from the wind. It’s warm here. The stone still hot from the Moroccan sun. He presses me against the rocks and takes the spaghetti straps off my shoulders. He tugs the dress down to my feet. Hard.

I know where this is going. I’m going to be his, and I have no say.

The warm stone digs into my naked back, but I couldn’t care less. I’m focused more on the heat between my thighs as James presses two fingers into me. A tingling explosion races through my veins as he starts to move them in and out. He takes one of my bare nipples in his teeth at the same time. He flicks itwith his tongue and pinches my other. Gentle pressure. Burning touch.

I gasp as he takes my legs out from under me with one strong arm braced against the back of my knees and another on my back. He lays me gently on the rocky pebbles and sticks my dress under my butt to protect me from sand.

I put my hands in his silky soft hair, but I’m not able to control my limbs for much longer. He takes my clit between his teeth and keeps fucking me with his long, strong fingers. I slowly become a one-hundred-and-fifty-pound puddle as his tongue swirls on my sex. I’m not even thinking as I raise my hips and buck into him. The stars above me start to blur as my blood burns.

“Come for me, Sophia,” James growls. “Come,” he demands, and my body listens. The orgasm races up my spine, and I shake violently.

He lifts his head up and moves onto his knees. We’re not wasting any time. We paw and fumble over each other like lusting teenagers with a time limit.

I reach down to feel his hard cock through his dress pants. Thick. Long. It presses against the fabric with such force, it looks like it could break the button.

I put my fingers on the button, and I’m impressed with how deftly I flip it out of its hole. Then I yank down his pants and boxers.

With the pressure released, his cock swings forward. I see it heavy and wobbling in the moonlight. There’s still enough light to see the long, thick veins. The pulsing head.

I hold his cock in my hand, exploring it with my fingers. Every trace of vein, the ridge of his tip.

He moves forward so I’m face-to-face with it. I put the tip in my mouth. Soft, a little salty, and smelling of man. I salivate as his cock enters my mouth. I take him halfway. More than I thinkI can. I want to please him, and I close my eyes and let him push his cock down my throat as I try to reach the base.

“That’s a good girl. Oh…fuck.”

My eyes water. I feel myself getting wetter. I don’t think I’ve ever gushed this much from giving head, but with James it’s different. With his thick, heavy cock in my mouth and gruff voice in my ears, I could probably come like this if I could just rub myself against his leg.

But I want to come harder. I move my head back and spit. “Fuck me,” I say.

“Fuck you what?” James growls back.

“Fuck me, please.Pleasefuck me.”

He pats my sopping wet entrance with his fingers and laughs. His laugh is humiliating. Telling. It says I’m just his slut. But right now, I don’t want to be anything else.

He takes his cock and slaps my clit with it. It makes me convulse and twitch. “You want your little pussy stretched?”

“Yes. Stretch me. Please.” If I was less horny, I’d be embarrassed by how pathetically I beg him. I feel his tip gliding up and down. The pressure of his cock head on my clit. He’s lubing himself from my gushing sex. He finally presses the head right where I want him to, against the center of all my heat, when suddenly there’s a crash and burn of cold all over my naked skin. It reaches my mouth and goes searing up my nose.

Salty, burning, seawater.

There’s another crash, and suddenly James is pulling me to my feet. “Shit!” I hear him say. I’m too dazed to even move. I’m busy spitting out the sea. He takes my hand as the water moves in at thigh height.

“It’s the tide,” James says.

“My dress,” I say.

“Long gone.”

We wade quickly to the end of the little rock cove, and together we climb so we’re back on the big grass lawn. I hold my hands over my bare breasts more because I’m cold, not because I’m afraid of being seen.

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