Page 84 of Summer People
Mouth watering, I grip his thighs, pulling him closer so I can swallow his cock.
We’re nothing but thrusts and grunts, whimpers and pleasure. He spears me with a finger, fucking me slowly as he licks and sucks until I’m unraveling beneath him. As a wave of pleasure washes over me, warming me, he rolls off me. I’m stillout of sorts when he settles himself on top of me again, this time so we’re face to face, his knees pushing my thighs apart, his cock filling me in one swift thrust and his mouth stealing my loud moan. He kisses me until I’m panting for breath.
“Do you like how you taste, Princess?”
Whimpering, I lick at his lips.
A slow grin slashes across his face. “You do, don’t you?” He muses. “You love it just as much as I do.” He drags his tongue over his lips, then pulls back and ducks his head so he has a clear view of his dick as he sinks inside me over and over again. “Look at us.”
I do. I arch up and zero in on where we’re connected. I couldn’t look away if I tried. The sensation of watching like this while he rolls his hips, dragging the head of his cock along my inner walls, is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. “Fisher, please,” I beg, my words coming out as a breathy adjuration.
“Please, what?” He fists the sheets and lowers himself, kissing me again.
“Please come. Please fill me.”
“You want my cum, Princess?”
Another moan. “Yes.”
With a grunt, he rises up on his knees and pistons his hips, setting a grueling pace. I lock my ankles at the base of his spine, grinding my clit against him until I shatter again. With one hand on my throat and the other on my ass, he squeezes and unleashes inside me, growling my name as he fills me just like he promised.
As our movements slow, he releases my throat. He lowers himself and cups my cheeks, pressing sweet kisses to my lips. “Are you okay?” he murmurs, his mouth brushing mine. The kisses don’t stop. We stay like this for a long moment, his lips pressed to my cheek, my chin, my neck, my shoulder, dragging out the blissful sensation.
When my breathing has returned to normal, I gently push against his chest and grin. “So about that shopping day…”
He chuckles as he pulls me close. “I’ll talk to Cank.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
fisher
The warm sunbeats down my shoulders as I survey the Boothbay public dock. There’s a man standing on a Grady White, yelling at the two kids on the dock to untie the lines. With what has to be eight kids on the boat with him, the poor guy probably needed a minute to get going. Especially since the two women with him are chatting without a care. I pull back on the throttle, reversing out about ten feet to give the guy room.
Two hours ago, I pulled up to the yellow-lined area and did the drop-and-go with the girls. Now, I zero in on Libby, whose blond hair is blowing in the breeze. She sends me a quick wave and a smile from where she stands by a pink and white Bayliner, chatting away with some old guy.
Fuck. I can tell already that this will not be a simple pickup.
I try not to sneer at the idea of talking to people. For Libby or Sutton—who both need people—I can do it.
I opted out of the bra shopping, because shit, I still shudder at the thought that my little girl is big enough for a bra. Thank fuck Libby is here. With any luck, she used the card I sent with her to buy herself something lacy and pink.
Just the thought of the fashion show I dream she’ll put on behind my locked bedroom door has my blood pumping.
I look from her to Sutton and back again.
The difference in my feelings regarding bra shopping for Libby and for Sutton is remarkable.
My jaw locks as I realize one day some fucker is going to feel about Sutton the way I do about Libby. My hands tighten on the silver steering wheel as I idle in the harbor. If I’m lucky, Libby will be the calming force I need when boys come calling on Sutton in ten years. If not, there’s a good chance I’ll end up hacking into their accounts and sending all their money to charities across the country.
Fuck. I shift on my feet and pull my Boston Revs hat low, blocking out the sun. It’s stupid, hoping that Libby will be around in ten years. She probably won’t make it the ten weeks between Labor day and Halloween.
My heart pangs at the idea of her leaving. But since the beginning, I’ve known that I can’t force her to stay forever. I care about her too much to hold her hostage. Her bright spirit needs to be free.
Libby’s reaction to the puffins was adorable. I don’t know what it is about the bird that makes people so giddy, but both Libby and Sutton squealed as soon as Puffin Island came into view. And when they saw the hundreds of birds, they giggled and smiled and took picture after picture for a solid twenty minutes. Even if I don’t understand the excitement, their happiness fills me with peace.
At the dock, the Grady finally gets the last fender in and pulls away, leaving a space for me. The move is routine, and I need no adjustments as I slip in and tie the lines myself. After killing the motor, I hop onto the dock and head for the girls.
I smile at Sutton and give Libby a quick kiss. Just in case this old guy has any ideas. I trust my girl, but I want her status to be obvious to him. “How’s my girlfriend doing?”
