Lost in Paradise: A Sinners on Tour Honeymoon (Sinners on Tour 6.8)

She leaned in and kissed his bare chest. “How about that? Does that feel nice too?”

“I’m all sweaty,” he warned her.

“I like you that way. I like you any way I can get you.”

She nipped his skin near his nipple, and his belly tightened. If she was trying to get a rise out of him, she was succeeding.

Jessica shifted from the sofa to kneel in front of him and tugged his swim trunks down. He groaned as her lips surrounded the tip of his cock and then jumped when the cool cloth and her hand circled his base.

“Cold!” he protested.

She squeezed the cloth and water trickled over his balls. His breath came out in an excited huff. The contrast between the heat of her mouth and the cool water made his thighs quake. She stroked her hand up and down his shaft, but he

could scarcely feel it because the cloth was between her skin and his. He could feel the trickling water that was forced out with each downstroke of her hand, and it was driving him insane. Her mouth on his cockhead drove him to equal distraction, and when she removed her shorts, climbed on his lap, and used her hand to guide him inside her, all the cares and worries from the past twenty-four hours vanished from his thoughts. There was only Jessica and the magic their bodies created whenever they came together. The wet cloth remained trapped between them, and Jess found a new way to get off as she rode him and rubbed up against the cloth on each downstroke.

He slid his hands across her breasts, brushing aside the cups of her bikini top, and lowered his mouth to one breast while he squeezed the other. She slid her fingers over the short hair of his scalp and slowed her rocking hips, gasping as each movement of her body tugged her nipple against his tight suction.

“I love you,” she said. “There’s no one I’d rather be lost at sea with than you.”

He smiled, breaking the seal on the tip of her breast. “Not even Jacques Cousteau?”

“I’m not sure he could have fulfilled my sexual needs.”

He chuckled, and she shivered, rubbing her taut nipple over his lips.

“I do my best,” he said, “but keeping you satisfied is a challenge even for me.”

He wrapped his arms around her and shifted her to her back on the couch. She pulled the cloth from between them and then circled her legs around his lower back, staring up at him with desire, trust, and anticipation. There was no one he’d rather be lost with either. Or lost in. He kissed her deeply, fingers tangling in the long, silky strands of her strawberry-blond hair.

Sed thrust into her, taking it slow at first and then building on the pleasure between them by moving faster and faster. Sweat slicked their skin. Heat and friction brought him to the brink of release, but he closed his eyes against her beauty and pushed it back. He wasn’t ready for this to end yet. Not even when she let go, calling out his name in a sexy rasp that tugged at his balls.

When her tremors stilled, he pulled out and urged her to turn onto her stomach. His hands gripped her hips and angled them upward. He entered her again, moaning as his cock claimed her inch by inch. He’d planned on starting slowly again, but Jess rocked into him hard and fast, tightening her muscles around him until he lost his ability to think and make love. He could only feel and fuck. His grip tightened, fingers digging into her hips, but that didn’t still her frenzied motions. If anything, his hold made her more frantic.

“Jess.” Her name served as a warning. If she didn’t slow down, he’d be finished. “Jess?”

She turned her body unexpectedly, one knee still on the sofa, her other leg shifting so that it rested against his belly and chest. Her ankle pressed against the back of his neck. He had to stop for a moment to regain his bearings. God, he loved that she was so bendy.

“What’s this pose called?” he asked, because he planned to request it often in the future.

She didn’t say anything for a moment. He was starting to think she hadn’t heard him or that it was called great-grandma pose or something equally unsexy.

“Awesome twisted dolphin,” she said, her voice breathy.

“Did you just make that up?”

“Dolphin is a real pose, but this is more awesome,” she said. “I think. You haven’t started moving yet.”

He pulled out slowly, and she shuddered.

“Oh fuck, that feels . . . What’s more awesome than awesome?” she asked.

“Jessica,” he said, groaning as he pushed back into her. “Jessica is way more awesome than awesome.” Dear lord, she was bendy on the inside too. His body started to shake.

She laughed. “I guess you’ll want me to call this one Jessica pose too.”

She could call the pose whatever she wanted as long as he could fuck her while she held it. But he wasn’t sure where to hold on to her. Her back was turned in such a way that he feared he’d hurt her if he restricted her position in any way. She always insisted that the crazy contortions felt good, but he couldn’t have maneuvered his body like hers even with the assistance of a rope and a crane.

“You can hold my leg,” she said, as if sensing that he wasn’t sure where to put his hands.

“Which one?”

“The one in your face.”

He wrapped one hand around her thigh, the other just below her bent knee. That gave them both the stability to move. His strokes were uneven at first as he worked out the best way to thrust without unbalancing her, but once they found their rhythm, he got lost in the feel of her. He slid his hand down her thigh and found her clit with his thumb. She cried out as she came, turning even more until she was almost in a backbend. The way her pussy twisted around him gave him no choice but to let go, his release catching him off guard as he pumped his last few strokes into her body. She rotated back onto her hands and knees, and he grunted as the motion wrung another wave of intense pleasure from his body.

“You’re incredible.” He leaned forward to kiss her back. “Wow.”

“I won’t be able to do this much longer,” she said. “My belly will get in the way.”

“I hope you aren’t worried that our sex life will get dull,” he said.

“I know these poses are what keep you coming back for more.”

He pulled out and turned her to face him. She looked serious. She was serious.

“You’re wrong. You’re what keeps me coming back for more.”

Her face was flushed and her hair a mess, but she’d never looked more beautiful.

“But you like the bendy stuff. A lot. Don’t deny it.”

“I love it, but I also love the less bendy stuff and even the non-bendy stuff.”

She smiled. “Me too. I even love the cuddling stuff that comes after.”

“Well, now, I wouldn’t go that far.”

He laughed at her affronted expression and settled on the sofa beside her, pulling her securely into his arms for some of that cuddling-after stuff. “Yeah,” he said, “you’re right. This part is wonderful too.” He kissed her ear and squeezed her a little tighter.

“You’d better get used to me always being right,” she said in a teasing tone.

“Already there, babe.” He kissed her ear again. “Already there.”

When they were all cuddled out, Sed’s brilliant wife warmed up some water using another chemical packet and the flameless stove so they could clean up in comfort. After they were clean—and yesterday’s undies were washed and hung to dry—Sed heated their lunches on the same stove but using a different pan; Jessica refused to eat out of a pan that had been used to wash their underwear. They put on their life vests and went above deck to enjoy their meal and watch for passing ships.

“Is it wrong of me to hope we get a few more days at sea to enjoy this time together?” Jessica asked. Her head rested against his shoulder, and she was watching a pair of seagulls that were circling overhead, probably waiting for their chance to swipe some of their lunch.

“I thought you were anxious to get back to dry land,” he said.

“I’m less anxious now,” she said. “At least until I see another shark.”

“We’d miss Trey’s wedding,” he said.

She sat up. “Oh God, I completely forgot about the wedding! We have to make it back in time for that.”

As if Trey’s lucky star was shining on them, the handheld radio squawked.

“This is the United States Coast Guard trying to reach a sailboat about 100 nautical miles south-southwest of San Clemente Island reported stranded by a shipping freighter. Do you copy? Over.”

“Is that us?” Jessica asked, scrambling for the radio.

“I don’t know if it’s us, but if we can hear them, hopefully they can hear us. And they speak English.”

Jessica pressed the button. “This is the Sea Lion, um, heart symbol.” She drew a heart in midair with one fingertip. “We don’t know where we are or

if you’re looking for us, but we’re stranded and a sailboat. Lightning struck our antenna and wiped out our electrical system. And there are sharks out here. Big sharks! They rammed our boat.”

Sed grinned at her and lifted a finger. “One shark.”

“You’re cutting out,” the Coast Guardsman said. Static crackled from the radio, but the garbled words sounded like, “Can you relay your position? Over.”

“We don’t know where we are,” Jessica told him. “No navigational system. No landmarks. No cellphone service.”

No landmarks? Sed sniggered. Well, duh.

“Can you use a sextant? Over?”

“A sex tent?”

Jess frowned at Sed, and he totally lost it, laughing so hard he couldn’t see straight. Great minds—or more accurately, greatly perverted minds—thought alike.

“Don’t know—” He took a deep breath to calm his laughter. “Don’t know how to use it,” he managed to get out.

“That’s a negative on sex tent knowledge,” Jessica said into the radio, her face split with a wide grin. “But I bet we could figure it out,” she said to Sed, winking at him.

From the radio: “Do you have an e-purb on board? Over.”

“A what now?” When she again looked at Sed, he shook his head.

“An emergency position-indicating radio beacon, also called an e-purb. Over.”

Sed widened his eyes, spread his hands, and shook his head again. He had no idea what the man was talking about.

“Not sure,” Jessica said into the hand radio. “What does it look like?”

“Depends on the model. They’re usually bright yellow or orange. Have an antenna sticking out of the top. Might be on the wall in a white box that says E-P-I-R-B on the cover. Usually found in the cockpit, but not always. Over.”

Sed stood and peered into the cockpit. Right behind the captain’s seat was a white box that reminded him of a public restroom soap dispenser. EPIRB was written down its length in blue letters. “There it is.”

“Yes,” Jessica said. “We see it.”

“Turn it on, and it will send out a signal that will triangulate with satellites and give us your location within a few nautical miles. Is anyone injured or at risk of immediate death? Over.”