Two of a Kind (Desire Island 2) - Page 18

“What happened?” she asked, confused. “Where did they go?”

Dylan chuckled. “You were off in la la land. I didn’t want to pull you back too soon. So I ended the demo, summing up the lesson and reminding them of proper aftercare. Then I sent them on their way. You remained in that beautiful altered state the whole time. It was pretty fucking awesome.”

Kendra grinned, elation nearly lifting her off the ground. Her ass was stinging pleasantly, a deep, lingering sense of wellbeing pervading every cell of her body. “Wow,” she breathed as he gathered her into his arms. “That was powerful, Dylan. Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he said into her hair, which he nuzzled with his chin. “You made it easy.”

He let her go and stepped back. “Come lie down on the recovery couch so I can treat the welts.” He led her to the sofa and helped her drape herself, facedown, on the soft sheet that covered it.

He crouched beside her and ran his fingers lightly over her ass. Ribbons of lust unfurled inside her at his touch. He smoothed a soothing balm over her skin as he said, “I kept it fairly light, but you still took quite a whipping. The welts should be gone by morning, but you might experience a little bruising. You did great, Kendra. I couldn’t have asked for a better demo partner.”

Kendra turned her head to regard him quizzically. “Is that all that was? Just a demo?” She started to say more, stopped herself, and then decided, what the hell—she’d just say it. “I don’t know about you, but it felt like more to me. Way more.”

His eyes hooded as he gazed at her with an intensity that left her breathless. “Yes,” he agreed, the word suffused with a yearning that matched her own. “It was way more. I would have taken you deeper, if a class of beginners hadn’t been there watching.”

She rolled from the sofa and got to her feet. He rose with her and took her again into his arms, this time dipping his head to kiss her mouth. The crotch of her thong panties was soaked. Her legs wobbled as her bones melted from the searing heat of his kiss.

He held her close, breaking the kiss to say throatily, “I want you, Kendra. God, I want you. I don’t want to rush you but—“

She pressed two fingers against his soft lips. “I want it too, Dylan. Please.”

He regarded her silently for several seconds, as if weighing her words in his mind. Then he smiled. Letting her go, he stepped away to retrieve her sundress from the chair where she’d placed it. As if she were a child, he slipped it over her head and pulled it into place on her body. “Let’s go,” he said, extending his hand to her.

She took it, her heart beating high in her throat.

~*~

Dylan took Kendra up to his suite on the fifth floor. One of the perks of this job was a luxury suite on the top floor of the resort. It consisted of a living room, bedroom and small kitchenette. The living room was furnished with a sofa and two armchairs, along with a desk that contained his laptop and three computer screens for when he was programming. Though it was dark outside, both the bedroom and living room opened onto balconies that faced the beach.

As soon as they were in the door, Dylan pressed Kendra against it and kissed her, all the pent-up sexual energy and dominant fire he’d kept under control during the caning scene the night before and during the intense bullwhip scene erupting like a volcano.

The touch of her tongue against his sent shards of desire ricocheting through his body. He slid his fingers under the straps of her dress as they kissed, pulling them from her shoulders. As the dress puddled to the floor, he reached around her, flicking open the hooks that held her strapless demi-bra in place.

While he was undressing her, she reached for the fly of his jeans, popping the metal button and dragging the zipper down past his bulging erection.

Still holding her against the door, he pulled off the silky bit of fabric that covered her mons. He kicked off his shoes and tugged at his unzipped jeans, pulling them, along with his underwear, down his legs. Pushing them away with his foot, he lifted her into his arms, gripping her thighs as he pulled her up onto his hips. His cock ached for the wet, hot grip of her cunt.

“Condom,” she panted as the head of his shaft found its way between her legs.

“Fuck,” he swore softly, returning to his senses. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse with lust. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Still holding her, he walked with her wrapped around his waist into the bedroom. When he deposited her on the bed, she winced slightly as her welted ass made contact with the coverlet.

Tags: Claire Thompson Desire Island Erotic
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