Page 55 of Storm over the Caribbean
I sniffled again. “W-what do you mean?” I asked with a quivering voice. “What could I possibly—”
Suddenly, I froze, and my voice cut off. A horrified gasp escaped me as I stared over to the edge of the palm forest.
Mr Ambrose’s head whipped around, searching the tree line. “What is it, Mrs Ambrose? What did you see?”
I let out a gasp, my point shooting up to point to the left. “L-look! Over there! The tiger!”
Whirling around to follow my outstretched arm with his eyes, Mr Ambrose tensed. “Where?”
“…doesn’t exist,” I finished and pounced on him. Before he could so much as blink, I was on top of him, grinning like a loon. “God, I can’t believe that worked!”
The look that Mr Rikkard Ambrose sent me could have frozen a tropical forest. In fact, I could have sworn I saw some frost spreading over the nearby palms.
“Mrs. Lillian. Ambrose. You…!”
That was when I reached down and grabbed the hardest part of him I could find. “You were saying, Mr Ambrose, Sir?”
“Nnng!”
“What was that?” Leaning forward, I traced my free hand’s fingers down his chest. This time, the buttons didn’t stop me. “You said you were feeling a little too hot?”
My hand squeezed around his length.
“Hnnr…!”
“I think that was a yes. Don’t you worry, Dick. Let me help you.” I leaned forward, smiling down at him sweetly. The fact that I was undulating my derrière right on top of his nickname was surely pure coincidence, right? “I think I have an idea what to do.”
I only needed a single moment before I had his shirt wide open. In the fading light of the flickering campfire, his muscles glistened like polished bronze, like some ancient statue of a Greek god. Let me just say that I was suddenlyveryappreciative of ancient art.
It was all right to feel up art, right? That’s what connoisseurs do.
Oh, to hell with it! Who cares?
My hand started roaming all over his prone body, taking in every delicious inch, every familiar bulge and dip. I could feel his rock-hard muscles tensing beneath my fingers. I could feel his scars, accumulated over years filled with dangers and adventures. I could feel his heart beating for me. Beatingwithme.
A groan escaped from his throat. “Ahh…Lilly, you can’t…we shouldn’t…”
“Why? Because you aren’t in control? Because you aren’t on top?” I undulated my hips again, eliciting another groan. Leaning down as far as I could, I whispered, “Remember your speech, darling. You’re a feminist now. Surely, you wouldn’t mind surrendering to your lady wife for just one night?”
“Ng! Never!”
I smirked. This was why being married to Mr Rikkard Ambrose was so much fun. Reaching down, I once more grabbed my Darling Dick by his nickname.
“Pardon, Mr Ambrose, Sir? What did you say?”
I squeezed.
“Nnnngdarg!”
“Ah, yes. That’s what I thought I heard.”
I watched him squirm beneath me, this man who was mine and mine alone. And as I did, heat rose deep within me, and need, and a feeling that went far beyond that. It was a heady feeling. A feeling of…power. Of incredible, addicting power. This powerful, beautiful man, who had more money than I could count, who commanded ships, lands and companies across all five continents, was writhing underneath me, brought low by nothing more than what he felt in his heart. For me.
Well…my hand on his pecker might also have had something to do with it.
My grin widened. Speaking of which…
Squeeze.
