Page 57 of Was I Ever Here

Swallowing him even deeper, I suck harder, my cheeks hollowing out, tears springing to my eyes when the tip of his cock hits the back of my throat. I moan around him, my hand wrapping around the base, stroking him up and down, his hard length pulsing against my wet palm. When his hips fall out of rhythm, I can tell he’s close.

“Fuck Sunny, you feel so good,” he growls, while I give him a long broad lick of my tongue before claiming him back inside my mouth. “Are you going to swallow me all down? Lick me clean like a good little whore while I come down your tight throat?”

Jesus, the mouth on this guy. I’m so fucking turned on I feel I could come just by the words spilling out of his open lips. I give a small nod of approval, my mouth still wrapped around him, locking eyes while he stares down at me with such fierceness that I can’t help but moan in appreciation.

He smirks, keeping his hand tight around the back of my head, his fingers threaded through my hair. He only lasts a few more jerks before his eyes flutter shut, his mouth opening on a near silent groan as I feel his release hot and salty down my throat. As promised, I swallow every last drop while his face paints the most alluring picture of pleasure, his climax a masterpiece I want framed in my mind forever.

I don’t think I would ever tire of watching him like this. Kneeling exactly here between his legs, the taste of him still lingering on my tongue.

He smiles at me, a look of deep satisfaction etched across his face as he pulls me up and over him, claiming my lips with a searing kiss. It takes me a moment to realize that this is what I’ve been waiting for.

He’s finally kissing me. My body flares with so much heat, I can hardly breathe. His tongue, wet and hot and wanting against my own as I moan into his mouth. Thankfully, this time I don’t unravel and just revel in the sensation of his lips on mine. He then rolls on top of me and deepens our kiss, his hands roving across my body, and for a while I lose myself in him. Time slows down and nothing exists but the warmth of his body against my own.

It’s the middle of the afternoon and the hot sun makes me wince, pearls of sweat rolling off my stomach and onto my beach towel.Too hot. I stand up and stretch—maybe a bit more sensual than usual knowing Byzantine is staring at me with unfettered heat, almost as scorching as the midday rays on my skin.

I turn around to start towards the water but hear him behind me say, “Let me come with you.”

I turn on my heels, surprise arching my brows. “You want to come swim with me?”

He grins. “Why are you acting so shocked?” he replies, amusement in his tone.

“Because I’veneverseen you get wet, like, ever?” I say.

His gaze travels to my hips and then up, his head tilting. “Is that so?”

I roll my eyes and flip him off. “Gross.”

Byzantine chuckles, the vibrating tempo of his laugh zipping through me like lightning, rocketing against my heart like a pinball. The sensation makes me take a step back like I was physically pushed. Quickly, I shake it off and simply give him a coy smile.

“See you in the water then,” I say, sultry as can be.

The water rises up my body as I walk deeper and deeper into the ocean. Eventually, I dive under the waves curious to see if Byzantine will follow me out this far.

I resurface, satisfied and refreshed, turning over to my back to float, hearing his quick splashes growing near as he swims towards me. I peek over to him while he floats nearby, his whole body disappearing under the waves, his mouth half-submerged in the water.

Fuck. It’s alarming how beautiful he is. The water glistening on his dark bronzed skin, the sun reflecting off the droplets sluicing down his face. Whatever I was idly thinking about is quickly replaced by one single thought. To trace my tongue against every inch of him. Somehow, Byzantine can tell where my thoughts are straying and a hungry grin slowly appears across his face. I swallow hard.

“Come, let’s get closer to shore,” he suggests, his voice traveling across the waves and into my ears like a siren’s song.

“Why?”

“Because I want to hold you without the threat of going under,” he answers.

“Oh.”

I turn back on my stomach and swim over the rising waves and back to shore, Byzantine trailing close by. My toes hit the wet spongy sand, the water now just past my chest as I turn to face him. He looks even more like a carnal deity in this light, but I evade his space while I stare at him, my body gently swaying with the tide.

He inhales deeply before speaking. “I’m surprised you like the water this much,” he admits.

“Why? Because I have a dead sister who drowned?” I state, my answer so carelessly flippant that I have half a mind to apologize but don’t.

I keep my face blank while he studies me. His silence is calculated but I can’t help but to fill it anyhow, squirming under his serious stare.

“Actually…River and I always dreamed of living somewhere warm, close to the ocean. We used to spend afternoons pouring over wildlife encyclopedias and promising ourselves we’d see whales in real life one day.” I shrug my shoulders in defeat. “If anything I feel closer to her when I’m in the water, like maybe the water is this weird conduit between us—maybe she’s closer this way…” I say, my words stuttering to a stop, almost feeling embarrassed about this silly belief I’ve constructed of our two souls trying to connect through the medium that ripped her away from me. “I find comfort in the water. Not fear.”

“Are you scared of dying?” he asks.

His question doesn’t surprise me and I answer immediately, “No,” I admit, while we stay motionless, staring at each other across the water. “I fear the way I’ll die, like, what happens to my body. But no, I don’t fear death. It’s a comforting thought even. And maybe that’s all kinds of fucked up, but living is hard and death feels…easy,” I say, taking a deep breath and avoiding his gaze while I gather my thoughts.

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