Page 89 of She Wolf

I’ve only got one thing on my mind and that’s Coralie, naked and pliant or dozy and sated for the next forty-six hours.

“Wanna drive into town?” Another no and I start walking her backward. Holding on tight, navigating my way through the kitchen.

“A swim?” she squeaks. Still, I move us toward the stairs. Once at the flight, I gently wrap an arm around the back of her thighs picking her up, wedding day style, and quietly carry her up the stairs. The boards creak as we ascend, the blue carpet runner soft underfoot. Coralie doesn’t say anything, just lets her legs dangle, pressing her cheek against my chest.

I carry her along the sun-bathed hallway and into the bedroom she chose as hers a few years ago. The light seafoam green drapes billow slightly as the breeze catches them, the sound of the seagulls filters through the open window and the unmistakable scent of the ocean surrounds us, but the entire world is reduced to the woman in front of me as I carefully lay her down on the pristine white bedding.

“I can’t believe I get you all to myself,” I tell her, kissing the side of her face and then her cheek and lips. “I don’t even know where to start with you.”

“What, what do you mean?” she breathes out and I can’t help the shudder of need that runs through me as I continue to pepper her with soft kisses to her neck.

“Slow, fast, hard. Location, position.” She squirms, turning her head to give me more access. “I can take you any way I want, and I don’t need to swallow down your moans or your pleas or your screams of my name because we can make as much noise as we want. Any hour of the day.”

Her hands creep up my shirt and I pull it off over my head. “I can keep you naked for nearly two whole days,” she giggles.

“Yeah, you can,” I promise.

Reaching into my back pocket, I locate my phone and then while I hover above her, thumb around and open my alarm app.

“What are you doing?” she asks, stretching her neck trying to take a peep. I turn the screen to face her. “Setting an alarm for midday Thursday.”

“Won’t you know what time it is just by simply looking at the clock?”

I shake my head and blindly place it on the bedside table. “I’m going to be too wrapped up in you. So focused on you, I’ll need an alarm to draw me out.”

She moans, throwing her head back as my tongue travels the column of her throat.

***

Ten blissful hours later and we’re fuck-drunk. Or at least that’s what Adam calls it. I never knew what he meant until this exact moment. But if fuck-drunk means feeling sweaty, sated, sleepy and totally wiped out? I’m here for it.

We need another shower, desperately, but once she’d caught her breath after the last round of sex, Coralie sighed, rolled over and passed out. It is two in the morning after all. Deciding the shower can wait, I pull the light sheet up over our naked bodies and burrow my face into her hair, pulling her back into me.

***

“Oh, Gunner, don’t stop!” Even with the fierce cramp in my bent legs I couldn’t stop. Can’t ever stop. I tunnel faster and harder, exponentially deeper. God knows how. She’s so tight and she’s so wet, I’m about to lose my goddamn mind.

“Come the fuck on, Peaches.” She’s come twice already this morning, on my tongue and on my cock but I want a third. I grit my teeth and finally, she gives it to me. Her pussy clamps like a vise and I’m toast. I unload into her, holding her to me for dear life.

“Damn you for being such a gentleman and making me wait all these years,” she says as she lowers her head onto her forearms.

“Goddamn, you for being the kind of girl you wait for,” I say kissing her sweat-soaked shoulders. Fucking on the balcony at sunrise was the best idea ever. The yellow sun is still rising over the ocean, beams getting stronger with every minute that passes, but the wood of the deck is still chilly beneath my bare feet.

“You don’t think anyone heard, do you?” Her voice is muffled as she speaks into her arms.

“One, who cares,” I kiss the soft slick skin in between her shoulder blades, “and two, the only people who are up this early are the fishermen.” Then I groan, loudly. “Fuck I need to sit down. My legs are about to give out.”

I quickly, albeit painfully, walk into the bedroom and grab my boxers and her robe. Then I’m back with a warm washcloth, helping her shrug into the champagne silk and collapsing into one of the sun chairs.

“Thank you. I’ll go get us some water.”

“Sorry, you scrambled my mind. I’ll fetch it,” I say but she pushes on my shoulders and pecks my nose. “I said I’ll get it.”

When she returns, she slips in between my legs and rests her damp head on my chest.

“Let’s never stop having sex, okay?” she breathes.

“Where’s my phone when I need it the most?”

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