Mara Fox - Letting Go!

He groaned, then pushed the thong all the way down until it caught on the bend of one of her knees.

Emma’s breath swooshed out of her as she realized they needed a condom. How could she have left the room without one? She just hadn’t thought…“I don’t have any protection with me,” she whispered, wanting to cry at the thought of him dumping her on the sand to find a woman that would satisfy him.

That huge erection, those exotic love words…all she wanted was to lie down in the sand and have him for herself. But the risks lined up like bullets in her head.

“Shh, chula. I’ll take care of you.”

She held her breath, afraid, intrigued and hoping he meant that he had a condom and not that she would have to fend him off.

His fingers brushed against the surface of her clit, teasing.

Emma forgot the condom problem. She arched against his fingers, whimpering, begging with her body language for something she’d never be able to ask for with words.

He pushed his fingers inside of her, deeper. She pushed back, wanting him. She rubbed his cock beneath his shorts with short hard strokes, imagining it inside her.

He stroked her in an uneven, thrusting rhythm that was somehow just right. Deep, hard and yet she felt secure enough in his grasp to let go to the point where she couldn’t think, could only push back with her hips against that incredible pressure.

He said something more in what she assumed was Spanish. She begged, almost sobbing with need and on the verge of something miraculous.

“Come for me, amorsito.”

She crested with a little scream.

Emma could barely lift her head. Her thong had fallen to the sand, her body throbbed, and her breasts burned, with the breeze still teasing them.

He held her close, petting her butt cheeks, pulling her skirt down, caressing her quivering belly.

Breathing hard, she tried to orient herself. She was on a beach with a stranger who’d just given her a mind-blowing orgasm. Surprisingly, Emma didn’t want to waste time examining anything. What she did wonder was if it had to be over or could they…

Her watch beeped.

“I think you should try to stand by yourself or else you’ll miss the cocktail party.” His voice sounded gravelly.

She could feel him trembling. It made her bold as she’d never been before. “No, I set the alarm twenty minutes ahead.”

He laughed hoarsely. “Passionate and organized. You’re an incredible woman. I’ll get you to the ship. I know you’re looking forward to the party.” He pulled away from her slowly as if afraid she might topple over.

Her legs held her, barely. She almost lost it when he bent down and picked up her thong out of the sand between her legs. She stepped out of it, he looked at her, and then he put the thong in his pants pocket.

Emma opened her mouth to protest. The little bulge of her thong rested next to another, larger bulge. What could she say? How arousing it was that he wanted to keep the thong, even if it meant going back to the ship with the breeze tantalizing her already sensitized flesh under that tiny skirt? Had she honestly let this stranger touch her intimately with his fingers?

Not only had she allowed that to happen, she intended it to happen again. She began untangling the problem.

“Can you hand me my shirt, please?” The please reminded her of her outrageous behavior and she smiled happily. She’d done it. She’d had a fling. And what an amazing fling.

Andres held up her shirt. As she leaned forward to take it from him, his hand skimmed over her nipples.

“I don’t know. I like you bare. You’re truly beautiful illuminated by moonlight.”

Emma barely managed not to drag him down on the sand and have her way with him.

“I want you to come back to the ship with me.” It came out in a rush. “Please.”

“But locals are not allowed on board.”

“The hell with it. We’ll think of something.”

“And your fancy reception?”

“My roommate won’t miss me and she’s not coming back to the room tonight.” One problem solved. One more to go.

“Are you sure?”

“Hmm, let me think. Do I want to have you alone in my room or go to a reception? For once I’m going to do exactly what I want. And I want you to make me feel like you just did, and more. We’ll only be on your island for a few more hours and I want you with me, all the way with me.” She reached out and brushed the front of his shorts.

He was definitely taken with the idea. If anything he was harder than before.

Still, for a moment she held her breath, frightened he would refuse her outrageous offer. But his smile said it all. He took her hand and they hurried silently along the beach, rapidly approaching the lights of the harbor.

Emma caught her breath and tried to regain her composure. I should feel ashamed of myself. But all she could feel was the throbbing between her legs and her heart stammering. A sexy, outrageous woman had been born on that beach and she wasn’t ready to let go of that, at least for a few hours—unless, of course, they put her in the brig for trying to smuggle Andres on board.

As they arrived at the harbor Emma caught her breath at the sight of the huge ship, strung with lights like a giant Christmas tree. “It still feels a bit unreal to be on a cruise,” she murmured. “Like being in a movie or something.”

“As long as it’s not Titanic,” he teased.

She laughed. “I think we’re safe. I don’t see Leonardo DiCaprio anywhere,” she said pretending to look around.

“No Kate Winslet either,” he said, then turned those dark eyes her way. They gleamed at her with obvious appreciation and he stroked her face. “Just you.”

She shivered. “Now we have to get you aboard.”

“Just how do you intend to get me aboard?”

“Distraction. I’m thinking I’m going to have to distract the guy looking at the identification. I’ll scratch my leg and lift my skirt or something.” She tried to imagine what Tina would do in her situation.

Andres looked pensive. “Do you know who your chef is? The main one? They advertise it. Is it the British guy, Jonathan Sparks?”

“I think so. It sounds familiar. How do you know?”

“He, uh, comes into the bar where you met me, occasionally. He’s cool. He might help me or it might be okay if I go up to the staff entrance. I’ll just say I’m going to visit him. Guys I know do it all the time to get on board to visit women.”

“And you don’t?”

“I hadn’t found you.”

She leaned against his arm, wanting to be convinced. “If you can get on the ship I’ll be so grateful. But it doesn’t make any sense…”

He very discreetly ran the fingers of one hand over her nipples where her breasts were pressed against his other arm. “I’ll be very convincing. I really want to be with you, querida.”

“Okay.” She sighed, unable to breathe, let alone think, with him playing with her body, and again so glad she hadn’t worn a bra. “I’m in cabin F55.” She leaned closer to give him better access. Luckily there were only a few people around them. Probably most had gone to the captain’s reception already, or they were still exploring in town.

He tugged on one beaded nipple through her shirt. “I’m going to suckle you until you scream. I want to see how a drink tastes when I lap it off of your skin. When you get to your room, order one of those milkshakes from room service and I’ll show you what cocoa and cream are for.”

Nodding dumbly, she could feel her eyes almost crossing with desire while her normally practical brain seemed to have gone on permanent vacation.

Andres leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Chula, you wait here for fifteen minutes. If I don’t come back, you’ll know I made it onto the ship.”