Page 86 of Covenant

“Yeah, I guess it was. Now what about you?”

He sighs as I turn around to see his cock growing limp, a puddle of cum sitting in the small thatch of pubic hair.

He came from me fucking his throat.

Hell.

“You’re a surprise,” I murmur, and he stretches languidly.

“So are you. I didn’t expect that, or the fact that you said my name when you came.”

I roll my eyes as my cheeks heat. “I did not.”

“You did. You moaned it like a prayer.” I shove at him, and his smile widens. “Are you done exploring my throat?”

“Possibly. I may need to explore it further later.”

He coughs and his cheeks flush. “Perhaps we should put that on hold while we explore the actual island.”

“Yeah. If you say so.”

Matthias’s gaze meets mine and then he leans up and kisses my cheek, the sensation of that one gesture pushing into my chest and piercing my heart.

He shouldn’t have done that. But he did, and I fucking liked it.

My fingers touch where he pressed his lips as he watches me cautiously.

“Is that too much?”

My eyes meet his. “No. I guess you can do it again if you’d like.”

He blushes and then shoves at me playfully. “Maybe. If you’re nice to me today.”

I laugh as he hops out of bed, my eyes moving to his ass as he walks toward the bathroom to get ready for the day.

I may stare a little too long, and yeah, I may also follow him until we’re under the stream of water as we both wash.

I may let him brush his hands along my pecs and down to my ass. And I might have done the same.

He needed help rinsing off.

When we finally make our way outside, the sun is shining, the wind whipping around us. Salty humidity sits in the air as we make our way to the car.

“You know how to drive around the island?” I ask.

Matthias scoffs. “I’m a pro. Been doing this for years. Just you watch.”

* * *

“I can’t believe you ran into a banana tree,” I say, trying to bite back a laugh at how disgruntled Matthias is. We were driving through town, trying to find parking—talking, maybe even flirting a bit—and thencrash.

Right into a long, brown trunk.

“I can. You were distracting me,” he grumbles, peering over at me, looking slightly embarrassed. “I didn’t see it.”

“It’s huge! And green!” I say and then find myself holding my stomach as I wheeze. “You’re a terrible driver.”

“I am not,” he huffs. “I’m a great driver. Probably the best there is on this island.”

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