This is something primal. Something passionate beyond passion—something so intense and visceral and real that if I don’t have him right fucking now, I feel like the bonds between my very cells are going to dissolve under pressure, and I’ll turn to a puddle of Emilia goo here on these pristine fucking sheets.
It’s already started between my thighs. The slickness of my cunt is unbearable as Evan positions his cock against me, ready to fucking drown in my need.
“Yes,” I’m hissing at him. “Yes! Yesssss. Take me, take me, fucking take me—”
He makes that face that he always does when he’s about to plunge into my pussy, and I brace myself for impact.
I’m fucking feral at this point. Feral and wild and impassioned and in love.
It’s like preparing yourself for a car crash…
then the driver gently pulls the car over to the side of the road.
“Take me, take me, take—huh?” I open my eyes and stop begging for a second to see what fucking gives.
I should be coming around his cock by now, dammit! Not laying here, soaking wet and losing my mind out of fucking wanting!
“Hold on,” Evan says.
So I dig my nails deeper into his shoulders and he winces.
“Not here,” he grunts, taking the pain like a man.
And before I can argue, he has me swept up in his arms.
Evan carries me naked and horny and dripping to the beach just outside the cabana. Normally, I’d argue that beach sex is totally dumb and mega cliche—but as of right now, I don’t give a damn.
He can fuck me tits-deep in the ocean right now for all I care.
I just need him to fuck me.
That’s the important thing: his cock in my cunt.
Beyond that, I could care less.
“Perfect,” he says, even though I’m so fucking desperate for him I don’t understand how he can give two fucks about atmosphere right now.
Sure, the moon is glistening overhead in a silver crescent, sending reflections rippling off the water like this is a Bob Ross original work of art.
And sure, the sand is still warm from the sun as he lays me down in it.
And sure, the lapping of the tide against my toes is like, kind of nice or whatever.
But it’s all so fucking irrelevant to me right now.
I’ve gone full caveman, babes. I want to be taken. Used! I want to be plowed until the fucking sun comes up. Hell, even after the sun comes up—we can keep going all day and get the world’s weirdest tan.
I’m just imagining that—the outline of my legs wrapped around Evan’s waist, burned into his skin by the sun itself—when Evan springs something on me that I didn’t fucking expect.
“Em. Babe,” he says, caressing my cheek.
He looks down at me with a whole hell of a lot of serious contained in his dark, gorgeous eyes.
And even though I’m so horny I could pretty much die…
This seems important.
I whimper.