Page 30 of The Placeholder
Her laugh is musical as she dangles the bikini top from one finger. “Something wrong, Mr. Warner?”
In one swift motion, she tosses the top at me. It lands on the water beside me, floating like a white flag of surrender—though neither of us is surrendering anything.
“That’s it,” I growl, swimming to the ladder. I haul myself out of the water, not bothering to hide my erection straining against my swim shorts. Water cascades down my chest as I stalk toward her, droplets marking my path across the warm wooden planks.
Della’s eyes widen with delighted anticipation. She makes a show of trying to scramble away, but I’m on her in seconds, scooping her up in my arms. Her naked breasts press against my wet chest as she squeals with laughter.
“You think that’s funny?” I ask, carrying her toward the bungalow. “Teasing me like that?”
"I thought that was the point of this getaway,” she says innocently, though her fingers are already tracing the muscles of my neck.
“Teasing comes with consequences, Miss York.”
Inside, the ceiling fan stirs the air above the massive bed where I toss her. She bounces once, her breastsjiggling, hair fanning out around her like spilled ink on the white sheets. The sight nearly brings me to my knees.
“What kind of consequences?” she asks, watching as I remove my wet shorts.
I crawl onto the bed, hovering over her. “The kind where I make you beg.”
Her pupils dilate, blue eyes nearly black with desire. “I don’t beg.”
“We’ll see about that.” I kiss her hard, drinking in her little gasps as my hands roam her body. I follow the elegant curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, until I reach the ties of her bikini bottoms. With a quick tug, they loosen, and I slide them down her legs.
“Spread your legs for me,” I command, my voice rough with need.
She complies immediately, thighs falling open. The sight of her, wet and ready, makes my mouth water. I settle between her legs, pressing kisses along her inner thighs, enjoying her impatient squirms.
“Axel, please,” she whispers.
“Already begging,” I tease, before running my tongue through her folds. The taste of her—salt and sweetness—makes me groan. I devour her like a starving man, circling her clit with my tongue while sliding two fingers inside her tight heat.
Della’s back arches off the bed. “Oh god, yes!”
I work her with my mouth and hand, relentless, curling my fingers to find that spot that makes her see stars. Her thighs begin to tremble, her breathing ragged. Just as she’s about to topple over the edge, I feel her walls tightening around my fingers.
In one fluid motion, I rise up and thrust into her, burying myself to the hilt.
Her back arches violently as she shatters around me, her slick inner walls pulsating and gripping me like a velvet vice. “Fuck!” she cries out, her pupils blown wide, mouth falling open in ecstasy.
“That’s it,” I growl, driving into her mercilessly. “This is what happens to dirty girls who tease me.” The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the bungalow as sweat glistens across her flushed chest.
Her nails carve crescents into my shoulders, her thighs trembling as they lock around my waist. “Don’t stop,” she begs, her voice breaking. “Please, Axel, don’t ever stop."
“Never,” I promise, angling deeper until I hit that spot that makes her eyes roll back. “You take me so perfectly, baby. Like this pussy was custom-made for my cock.” I watch, mesmerized, as my length disappears inside her glistening heat with each brutal thrust.
Her eyes lock with mine, dark with primal hunger. “Born for it,” she gasps, her breasts bouncing with each impact. “Born to take every inch of you.”
Those filthy words ignite something primal within me. I flip her onto her stomach in one savage motion, yanking her hips up until that perfect heart-shaped ass is presented to me like an offering. I plunge back into her honeyed depths from behind, her slick heat gripping every throbbing inch of me. She comes again instantly, her scream muffled by the pillow, her pussy convulsing around me with such force I nearly black out from pleasure. The sight of her face pressed into the sheets, spine a perfect curve, my cock disappearing into her glistening pink folds—pushes me beyond control. Iexplode inside her with a guttural roar, my release so intense my vision blurs at the edges as I fill her to overflowing, marking her as mine from the inside out.
We lie tangled together afterward, her head on my chest, my fingers tracing the damp curve of her spine. The late-afternoon sun streams through the open windows, painting golden stripes across our sweat-slicked bodies and highlighting the rosy marks my fingers left on her hips.
“I think I need another swim to cool off,” she murmurs against my skin.
I press a kiss to her forehead. “Later. Right now, I’m not letting you out of this bed.”
Hours later, we sit on the deck of our bungalow, watching the sun sink toward the horizon. The sky is painted in impossible shades of orange reflecting off the blue water. Della wears nothing but my shirt and her anklet, the golden chain catching the fading light as she sips champagne from a flute.
“This has been the most perfect trip,” she says, leaning against me.
