Page 13 of Stick Games
“It does.”
He runs his fingers through the water, as he wets his lips. “What do I get for winning?”
“Well, let’s see.” I kick my legs out, splashing him slightly. “Since this game originated with an explorer who didn’t know where he was going, maybe your win can be about exploring, and showing me where this is going.”
Did I really just say that out loud?
Oh, you did, girl, you really did.
“I can get behind that….” His chest rises and falls erratically. “…if you agree to say, ‘yes’ to everything I ask?”
As I envision this man taking control of our game, our play, I can barely fill my lungs. Honestly, I’m a hard-working girl, disciplined on the ice, always telling others what to do. But I’m not on the ice this weekend, and maybe just once, it would be nice to throw caution to the Caribbean wind, and recklessly put myself in Gabe’s hands. We did, after all, agree that what happens on this island stays on this island.
“Yes,” I whisper.
A deep moan of pleasure rumbles in his throat and for a second, I wonder what the hell I’m getting myself into. “So let me get this straight. When I win?—”
“If...”
He grunts out a confident laugh that sends heat rocking through me. “Oh, I plan on fucking winning, babe, and when I do, you’re not only going to be saying yes to my every demand, you’re going to be screaming it.”
Oh, God, I want that so damn bad, but I’m not ready to let him know that. Although I’m pretty sure he was well aware of my arousal when he was lotioning my body.
“That’s a lot of confidence for a man who knows I’m a good swimmer,” I tell him.
“I think you might be forgetting how determined I am when I want something.”
“You want me, Gabe?”
“Yeah, and I plan to take everything I fucking want.” A beat and then, “Marco.”
“Polo,” I shoot back and with that, he dives under the water, and I squeal and swim away. Although I’m not sure why I’m going in the opposite direction when I want everything he’s offering. He rises from the water behind me, and when he slides his hands around my waist, and drags my back to his chest, I yelp and wiggle, trying to get away. But then, his hand slides down my body and his fingers dip into my bikini bottoms. The second the rough pad of his index grazes my clit, the fight drains out of me, and a moan of pleasure rumbles in my throat.
“Yes,” I murmur, and he puts his mouth near my ear.
“Soon, you’re going to be screaming that.”
“I can’t wait,” I admit honestly, and a rumble rises in his throat.
He slicks his finger over my sex, and I continue to grow wetter as he teases and torments me. My head falls back, resting on his chest, as I hand myself over to him, wanting him to do all the things that are going to make me scream. I don’t even care that there are couples on the sand. I’m just glad this is an adult-only resort, and honestly, no one is paying any attention to us.
He plays with me, circling my swollen clit, and I wiggle against him, loving the way his erection is pressing into me. I widen my legs and his chest rises and falls. He might be in control, but I’m not the only one who’s a hot mess here.
His thick finger dips lower, and he slides it inside me. My muscles tremble around him, squeezing tight. It’s insane how desperate I am for a man’s touch. Correction, not just any man’s touch. It’s Gabe’s touch I want. It’s always been his touch.
His mouth is near my ear. “Like that, babe?”
“Yes,” I murmur.
“Show me how much.”
His finger stills high inside me and I move my hips, slicking along his length and his groan of want mingles with mine, and I begin to fuck his finger faster. His palm presses against my clit, and I grind against it with each forward movement.
Despite the cold water, heat flashes through me, and my muscles begin to tremble and he slides a second finger in to give me something to grip on to. I gasp. “Gabe,” I cry out, as he takes over the play, holding me still with one hand while the other crooks inside me and stimulates my G-spot.
He might not be a famous explorer like Marco Polo, who changed our world, but his sweet discoveries between my legs sure are changing mine, and unlike other men I’ve been with, Gabe doesn’t need a compass to find all my sensitive spots.
I take my breasts into my hands and brush my nipples as my body lets go, my hot release dripping over his fingers as he keeps them inside my panties. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, and hearing those words on his lips brings on another hard clench. “Jesus.”
