Should I say something? Like what? Thank you, that was awesome?
I have no chance to ponder these questions—well, insecurities—because Cruce rolls my way so fast I let out a yip of surprise. His mouth crashes down onto mine with a possessive ferocity I didn’t think should be possible after he just had a very satisfactory moment that’s still wet between us. Yet, he seems starved to claim me.
The kiss is so vastly different than the one we shared in his small apartment at the Jameson headquarters. That one was born of security and comfort.
Only one word comes to mind with this one—domination.
I roll to my back, submit, and let him take whatever he wants from my mouth. His tongue invades, laying total waste to me. Before I can even think to reciprocate, it’s gone.
His mouth is at my breasts now. Somehow, he has my sleep shirt hiked up to my throat. His teeth and tongue work at my nipples, and my hips shoot off the bed in response. Cruce’s large hand goes to my stomach, presses me down into the mattress, then shoves his hand into my sleep shorts.
Right into my panties.
Finger right into my…
“Cruce,” I call in surprise as he thrusts in deep, only to pull his finger out to drag it over my clit.
And then… his hand is gone, and I want to cry.
But he’s not gone. In fact, he’s shifting in the bed to kneel at my hips, dragging my shorts and panties right off me. Cool ocean breeze from our open wall hits me, and I’m barely cognizant Cruce is now shoving my legs apart, pressing his face right into me. His beard is both prickly and soft against my thighs.
His tongue shoves in deep and hot, and I’ve never, ever experienced that before. I don’t ever want to experience anything else again. Just want to stay right here like this, which is why I grip tightly to his thick hair.
I try to pull him harder into me, but it’s impossible as his tongue is in impossibly deep.
But then it’s gone. I don’t even have time to cry out my frustration before his tongue lands on my clit. He works it hard.
Fast.
Jack hammering me with it, in between long, slow sucks.
It’s the best feeling I’ve ever felt, which is probably why my orgasm comes out of nowhere. It shreds me head to toe and inside out until I’m not sure there’s a single molecule left that will ever be the same.
“Oh God,” I moan, cry, rant, shriek… all at the same time.
Cruce chuckles and groans, which shoots more pleasurable sparks through his mouth into me and I swear I come again.
Softer this time, but it still feels so freaking good.
He gives me one final lick. A long one… straight up my center. It makes my toes curl, then he’s moving right up my body. He drags his lips along my skin, the wetness around the edges of his mouth and beard leaving a trail that feels surprisingly dirty-good.
Then his mouth returns to mine, and I taste a combination of us mingled together. I groan in satisfaction as I wrap my arms tightly around his neck, and our kiss is now a combination of our first time. Secure, sweet, but still possessive in a way that says this isn’t a onetime only situation.
Cruce wants more, and I’m going to give it to him whenever he wants it.
His mouth eventually lifts from mine. He rolls to my side, briefly burying his face in my neck for a moment. He gives a slight groan of recrimination before lifting his head.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “I really thought I was dreaming. Or… maybe I even was to start out, but I didn’t mean—”
“That chicken’s already flown the coop,” he murmurs, his eyes softening a bit.
“No crying over spilled milk?” I inquire. Perhaps he also thinks about the white semen that was splashed all over his stomach earlier, because we start to snicker simultaneously. I move right into him, not caring if this is too cuddly or intimate, and I wrap my arm around his waist. “I’m really sorry. I crossed a line you didn’t want to.”
“It’s fine,” he murmurs. Putting his arm around me, he gives me a return squeeze of reassurance.
“That was more than fine,” I point out.
“It was fucking great, and we both know it,” he mutters. “Going to get even better when I recharge.”
Relief flushes through me, indicating I might have been assuming it really was a onetime only thing.
Definitely making it clear I would have been devastated had he declared it so.
“Would you like me to make us some breakfast?” I ask.
Another chuckle from Cruce, and he squeezes me again. “Not going to take that long for me to recharge.”
Pleasure hits me between the legs, indicating it’s not going to take me that long to recharge either.
CHAPTER 16
Cruce
It’s difficult for me to occupy the time on this island. Barrett spends her days with her face pressed against her laptop or scribbling in a notebook. She’s feeling hamstrung out here in isolation, cut off from her research assistants and the other scientists in the community she can reach out to for some brain picking. Relying only on herself—her brains, her intuition, and her imagination—she’s becoming frustrated over the lack of progress she’s making.
I’m frustrated waiting on something to happen with the situation. The team Kynan sent just made it to Oman today, and they are in the middle of active reconnaissance of the two arms dealers. That will take a few days at least. Barrett and I being able to return to a normal life will most likely hinge on what they find out.
For now, though, everyone agrees Barrett and I should stay put for the time being.
We’ve only been here eight days total, but it seems like a lot longer. I spend the daylight hours patrolling the perimeter while Barrett works, scanning the horizon for any hint of danger, and sometimes fishing in the small cay for our dinner.
It’s now my sworn duty to pull her away from her work in the afternoon as I’d promised, because she needs the break so she doesn’t run herself into the ground. She’s more dedicated than ever to finishing this formula because she knows it could also be our ticket to freedom. So, I make her go down to the beach or snorkeling, just for a little while to refresh her mind.
At night, though, I’m a selfish fuck because I make her come to bed at a decent hour. It’s not because I think she needs more of a breather, or that a fresher mind might be gained with better rest, but because of no other reason than I want to be inside of her.
Her hand on my cock two mornings ago opened the dam, and I have a never-ending stream of need for her that can’t seem to be fully quenched. So, after we finish dinner and clean the kitchen, I do a final perimeter check of the island while she tries to squeeze in another hour of work.
Then I return to the main house, and I actually drag her away. Sometimes, she begs me to let her finish a thought or a note. Sometimes, I even give in.
For the most part, though, I don’t.
I just sweep her off to wherever I want to have her to start the evening, knowing we’ll end up in the big bed in the master suite.
She created a monster—made me submit to something I never should have let happen—and now she has to live with the beast she awakened.
Barrett isn’t complaining, though. If anything, she always ends up begging because even though we started off this sexual relationship with a quick, hard jacking where I let her have control of me, it’s not the way we’ve rolled since.