Page 33 of Capri

I find myself being proud of her. Something deep inside of me tells me she’s worthy of it.

The recognition. Yet, she seems too humble to boast about it.

“It’s nothing,” Capri waves off her sister’s praise. “I do it for the kiddos.”

She’s humble and kind. It makes me wonder how often she’s told that. How often is she commended for her accomplishments and struggles?

How much damage has her ass of an ex-husband done to my golden girl with a heart full of compassion?

It’s a good fucking thing I’ll never find out. Or see him, for that matter.

It’s also a good thing I’m the one with my hand on her pussy and not him. The agitation and protectiveness I feel for her has me sliding her panties to the side and slipping my finger into her warm hole.

I have to fight back a groan as my thick finger sinks in, meeting the tightest cunt I’ve ever had the pleasure of entering. Capri gasps as I plunge in and out before circling her swollen clit and applying light pressure.

I can’t have her coming here.

I need to edge her until I can get her alone. I want her spent and aching for my cock—the only thing capable enough to settle the throbbing I’m positive is intensifying as we speak.

Capri’s head falls back as I ghost her clit, her posture succumbing to ecstasy. I reach to stroke her forehead, helping her to stay upright, not giving us away. I can’t have her moaning in front of my guests.

That’s for my viewing pleasure only.

It’s fascinating, however, the way her body responds to me. Like she can’t get close enough.

Just wait, sweetheart.

“Anyone wanna go in the hot tub before we dock?” Romeo asks the table.

“Yes!” Collie squeals with Luca’s agreement following suit.

“Jones?” Romeo turns to me.

“I’m gonna hang back and clean up,” I say before turning to Capri. “Wanna help?” She nods.

Romeo eyes me like I’m full of shit. I am; I have staff for that, but thankfully, he doesn’t call me out on it. “Then it’s settled. Blondie, Luca, let’s go.”

The three of them exit the cabin, and I slowly turn to Capri, finding her bright eyes wide and already on mine. “Take all the plates to the kitchen?”

I chuckle. “Fuck no. That’s what I pay the kitchen staff for, sweetheart.”

“Then…why?” She points to the door they exited. “You just said we?—”

“I had to get rid of them somehow,” I admit, reaching for her hand and helping her off the leather booth. “How else was I supposed to get you alone?”

I pull her close to me, pressing my body against hers and nuzzling her neck. “You smell so sweet, Capri. I could get drunk on you.”

“Please do,” she whispers, running her nails down my back. “Make me feel something other than loneliness.”

That might be the most real thing I’ve heard Capri say yet. Our ‘enjoying each other’ timeline is supposed to be one where we don’t share the personal and focus on drowning in the physical.

I’m battling myself to make sure those lines aren’t blurred.

But fuck me sideways; I can relate to the loneliness she claims to feel.

“I can do that, sweetheart. You can rest in me.”

Without another thought, I scoop Capri into my arms and carry her to my bedroom behind the side double doors. The cabin window is below deck, giving us the perfect view of the sea.

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