Secret Surrender (Forever 2)

He added another finger into my pu**y and rammed me faster. I shattered on the rocks like the water crashing around us. My feet lost their grip on the roof and my legs came down, resting on Vincent’s sculpted shoulders.

“I want you inside me, Vincent,” I panted, eager for that feeling of fullness only he could give me.

He frowned. “We have to go back to the cabin. I didn’t bring any protection with me.”

I swallowed hard before speaking. “I’m clean, Vincent. Are you?”

His brows narrowed. “Yes but—”

“I trust you. I’m on the pill. Do you trust me?”

His eyes lit. “Yes.”

“Then let’s do it. Here. Right now.”

“Are you sure? I want this Kristen, but I don’t want you to have regrets.”

I nodded. “I’m sure. I want this. I want to feel you inside me with nothing separating us.”

“Oh Kristen.”

He tilted his head and sealed his mouth over mine.

I reached for his erection—which was as hard as the stone against my back—and used the swollen tip to rub against my clitoris. He groaned into my mouth.

I aligned the tip with my entrance and he slowly entered, allowing me to savor the feeling of every bare inch spreading my throbbing sex. Deeper he dove, stretching sensitive flesh, firing raw nerves in his wake, leaving me mindless and breathless.

“You feel so good,” he cried, his mouth trembling by my ear.

His thrusts were so deep. My body felt impossibly full. I gripped the muscles of his back tightly but careful not to scratch him with my fingernails this time. “Vincent, you’re so hot inside me.”

“I can feel my blood rushing,” he groaned. “It’s because of you, Kristen.”

Our bodies were so close, his hard pecs flat against my br**sts. I could feel his heartbeat through his chest, the strong beats vibrating through me, making my own chest beat harder. “I want you so bad it hurts. Don’t stop.”

He drove into me. Again and again. Shaky breaths escaping both our lips each time he hit the back of my sex. “I can’t stop.”

Our wet bodies collided over and over again. Our mouths and tongues twisted and tangled in clashing harmony. He plundered my depths and took what he wanted. I opened myself and gave him everything he desired, lost in senseless pleasure.

His thrusts became more urgent, his expression more desperate.

“I’m coming, Kristen,” he groaned painfully.

“Come inside me, Vincent.” I dared him with my hips and coaxed him with my fingers digging into his firm backside.

“Oh f**k!”

A wave of heat seared my insides as I felt him violently spurt inside me, filling me to a depth I’d never felt before both physically and emotionally. He continued pumping his hips, shouting curses, emptying more of himself. I clenched around him, squeezing every last drop of desire out of him and into me. I wanted him. All of him.

He collapsed on top of me, panting, surrendering. I enjoyed the feel of his weight against me, crushing me tenderly.

***

Once we were back at the cabin, we decided to take Vincent’s boat over to St. Lucia to grab lunch and basic supplies for the cabin. After our morning activities, I was as relaxed and happy as I could remember. Being with Vincent was both comfortable and exciting at the same time. I could scarcely believe how well things were working out between us.

We walked from the cabin to the beach and boarded the Pier Pleasure. He was wearing a light blue linen shirt with the top few buttons unbuttoned and gray shorts of a similar fabric, with flip flops and Oakley sunglasses completing the look.

Untying the boat from the dock, the muscles in his arms and chest bulged beneath his shirt. More and more, watching him do any physical activity made me think of the way he looked naked.

After starting the engine, Vincent directed us on a beeline straight for the main island. He looked confident and collected piloting the boat, taking the waves in stride. As the wind and ocean spray blew through his wavy blond hair, he resembled something out of a movie. His face radiated focused intensity directed toward the task at hand; he was soaking this experience in and making sure we didn’t have any mishaps.

For all that, I was white-knuckled next to him. He hadn’t gone this fast our first time, and it felt pretty close to out of control to me. This was worse than a New York City taxi. I didn’t know how fast we were going but it felt like a hundred miles per hour easy.

I had to ask. “How fast are we going?” I yelled over the wind.

Rather than respond immediately, Vincent gave the wheel a sharp turn. I screamed as the boat veered to the left and rolled in the same direction. For a second I thought the boat would flip, but it stabilized, and I was surprised at how exhilarated I felt as I settled into feeling the movement. Before we had even completed a circle, I realized I was having fun. Vincent’s addiction to this kind of adrenaline rush was making more sense the longer I knew him.

Once we were pointed back at the island, Vincent eased the throttle down to almost nothing. “What did you say?” he asked, smiling.

It took me a minute to remember what that question had even been. “How fast was the boat going earlier?”

He shrugged. “Probably forty or so. I wasn’t paying close attention. Nothing too crazy.”

I had driven at a higher speed on the highway, but traveling on the water felt much faster than going a similar speed on land. “It felt crazy to me.”

“Have you done much boating before?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

He nodded. “It’s like a lot of things. At first it seems totally out of control, but most things that seem dangerous usually aren’t too bad when you’re with someone who knows what they’re doing. Fact is, you’d have to be a really bad driver to flip this boat in these conditions.”

“And you know what you’re doing?”

“Most of the time, anyway.”

As I wondered what that meant, he kicked the throttle up, and the boat raced off toward the main island.

I didn’t know anything about boats, but even I could tell Vincent’s was the nicest by far out of the half dozen I saw in the small marina we navigated into. The water was clear down to the sand below as we walked down the long pier to the beach. I could even see some fish congregating around the wooden pillars of the pier. A few dozen people were milling around the strip; it contained a single restaurant, a general store, a surf shop, and not a lot else. Past the palm trees and vegetation there were some houses further inland, and the occasional car or truck drifted by.