Page 76 of Hearts Adrift
“And if I didn’t buy the bungalow? Thenrandoswould start staying in it just for the novelty that I once hid there. Or for its alleged ‘cursed history’, which I’ve confirmed is totalbull, by the way, now that I have had the pleasure of staying there. No evil spirits lurk under those floorboards.”
“It’s the sea,” I explain distractedly. “Like putting your ear to a shell … o-or something. Are you seriously buying the Breezy Bungalow?”
“Look into my eyes. Remember the Acting 101 lesson I gave you? What do you see?”
I peer into his eyes which shimmer against the burning color of the sunset and the glint off the water.
There’s something new in his eyes I’m not sure I’ve seenbefore. They’re unguarded. Unbound. Free. Almost boyish in their honesty.
The eyes never lie.
His are begging me to give in to him.
Then it’s me silencing myself with my own lips against his, giving in to the chaos. I guess I have a problem with overthinking. Worrying and clinging to my circumstances and madly attempting to control the world around me.
Instead of just letting things happen. The way ocean waves happen. And weather. And sand rearranging itself forever on every beach in the world. And Hollywood actors I’m falling for, moving in down the street from me.
We’re wet from head to toe when we arrive at the back door of the bungalow—our lips still attached, kissing each other without relent—when we find the door to be locked. I ask, out of breath, “Got the key?” River pats his pockets, then says, “No. Anya must’ve locked up before she left.”
I give the door half a second of consideration—then elbow the pane of glass right out of the window, sending it falling like it was never fixed. I reach in, unlock the door, and River and I are inside.
The kitchen takes our shoes. The living room, both of our shirts. The hallway, our shorts and underwear.
The shower wall takes his back as I press him to it.
Then we flip around, and it’s my back against the wall, as I let go every last fear and reservation inside me, letting him kiss down my body like it’s his first time exploring it. The hot shower pours over us, washing away every shred of our worries, massaging our nerves out of their tension-tortured states, bringing us back to ourselves.
And when River’s tongue finds my nipple, I realize I will never again be able to resist him, now that he’s learned without a doubt my weakness.
I’m so fucked.
And I love it.
Being naked causes me to feel a thousand times more vulnerable to him, with every body part exposed to him. He continues his sensual yet commanding control over me as I enjoy the grazing of his fingertips over my body while his tongue tortures me. Will he caress my hips? Grip my ass? Stroke my cock to the point of oblivion, only to ease back just enough to stop me and drive my mind even crazier?
“Imagine if we do this every day,” he whispers in my ear when his lips return to my face. He’s rubbing my cock up and down with perfect finesse, keeping me worked up just enough without allowing me to spill over, my body still pressed to the wall. “You and me. Skipping around the isle. Dropping in here for some sexy times. Then cozying up in the evenings with each other.”
“Or just doing the sexy times all night long,” I breathe out, my mind teetering somewhere on the border between insanity and total bliss as he continues to tease my cock.
“Oh, trust me … once you get a little taste of me inside you, you’ll bethankfulfor that cozy time afterwards.”
And then he goes and says things like that.
I’m fucking done for.
That’s the thought I have when I find my face pressed to the pillow—and River’s buried between my cheeks once again. I could fuck a hole through this bed with my boner right now, the way that man drills me with his tongue after our shower. The sensation is almost so much that I want to close my legs, but he keeps them firmly apart, wetting me with his tongue, forcing me to endure the overwhelming pleasure it’s causing. Is this another actor thing I’m coming to discover? Actors and their skillful, talented tongues? Is this a thing?
I’ll presume it’s a thing while my fingers claw the bed sheetsuncontrollably and my toes curl.
I might be taking a page from River’s book of phrasing things a touch too poetically, but when he puts a condom on and lubes up, then slides inside me, it’s like the perfect key fitting inside a lock where it always belonged. And the limitless feeling of satisfaction it unlocks. The utter feeling of completeness. How our bodies unite with such passion that I literally wonder if I’ve ever truly had sex before. If this isn’t, in a way, my actual first time.
I never considered how differently it would feel with a person like River, with whom I feel so securely attached.
Someone like River, who is as reliable as the sea, in how he rushes forward when I need him and pulls back at just the right moment.
When he fits himself all the way inside me.
When he lays atop my back, enfolding me in his arms, cherishing me, as he rocks his hips against my body.
