A Taste of Utopia (20 page)

Unconvinced, she bites the corner of her lower lip.

I don’t know if it is the simple gesture or the innocence displayed on her soft features, but I want her something fierce. Lottie is uniquely innocent in a world of perverted inauthenticity.

“Let’s go for a ride?” I need to get the hell away from her family. Get my mind in order.

“You’re tired. Wouldn’t you rather take a nap?” she asks.

“Nah, I need to move. Get fresh air. Do you want to go for a hike? I looked up a local map. There’s a beautiful three-mile trail marked ‘
easy’
close to here. You game?”

“Okay.” She retrieves the remote control and shuts off the TV. “I’ll let Mom know we’re heading out and meet you in the bedroom. I want to change into something more appropriate.”

“Get some water bottles, would you?” I ask, gently removing Jake from my lap and tucking a throw pillow under his head.

“Yep,” she responds.

We head in opposite directions, Lottie to the kitchen and me to the bedroom. Fortunately, I cross the house without bumping into the other guests.

Granny placed us in a suite at the far end of the house, probably to give the newlyweds a measure of privacy. Once inside, I raid my luggage for hiking boots, and I put some hiking gear in the backpack. Since I’ve been on the island a few times, I know there are many trails offering breathtakingly beautiful views.

After changing my clothes, I stand by the back door leading to the beach and watch the postcard landscape. The sky is cloudless. A cool breeze carries a whiff of salt from the sea. Waves break on the shore forming a white foam.

The bedroom door squeaks open. My head turns to see Lottie entering the room. She casts her eyes my way for a brief moment but remains silent.

I turn and prop my shoulder on the doorframe to watch her across the room. She fidgets with the lock on her suitcase until it opens.

“Put on a bathing suit. The trail leads to a waterfall,” I inform her.

She gathers her apparel and disappears into the bathroom. I smile, shaking my head. My wife is modest. I need to help her out of her shell, at least in the bedroom. Call me a selfish bastard, but as far as the rest of the world is concerned, she can remain shy.

“I’m ready.” She reemerges from the bathroom, hair in a ponytail, khaki shorts, and a tank top that hugs her small waist. My eyes peruse her body, stopping for a bit at the swell of her breasts. I have half a mind to throw her on the bed and sink into her warmth until I find oblivion.

“Let’s go then.” I grab her hand and lead her out.

AFTER A THIRTY-MINUTE
drive, I park the car. I gather the gear from the trunk, and we head to the trail.

“To the waterfall and back takes around two hours. So we should be good,” I say. Though the sun is riding low in the sky, there are at least another four hours of sunlight.

“I told Mom not to wait for us for dinner. It’s promptly served at seven, right after sunset,” she says.

We climb a gravel path that will lead to the trail deep into the forest. According to the map, it’s a nature feast for the eyes.

Lottie is silent. I’m the one who usually initiates conversation. I need to get my head out of my ass and enjoy these moments with her. When we get back to the house, I’ll have to focus on putting on a brave face.

I want to make small talk. However, the small forest, alive with noises, is distracting. We immerse deep into the tangle of trees, zooming through mazes of wild beauty, synchronizing with the environment. Birds and crickets chirp. The wind whistles through the leaves. Twigs crack under our muted steps. It’s a festival of sound and color.

An hour later, a sheer layer of sweat covers our skin. I’m questioning if we took a wrong turn when the hypnotic sound of a waterfall beckons us out into a meadow. Shimmering streams of water hurtle down onto rocks, spilling into a small lake that’s the color of an emerald. Lottie and I stand side by side, soaking in the peace and seclusion the place offers.

“You hated them, didn’t you?” she asks bluntly.

My entire body swivels toward Lottie. I cup her face. Her brows are deeply furrowed, her lower lip quivers. Her crumpled face fills me with understanding. It’s important to Lottie that I like her family and vice versa.

We got into this position because of an impulsive action. However, Lottie is as invested as I am in this crazy relationship we have going.

“No, not at all, babe. But we’re going to need time to get into a friendlier zone.” My thumb traces her trembling lip. “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll have them in love with me by the end of this trip.”

My job, my lifestyle, requires me to say things that I don’t totally mean. Often, I lie and make empty promises I have no intention of fulfilling. It’s part of what clients expect. I only say what they want to hear. And I’m paid enough money for it. But at this moment, it tears at my heart to make a promise I’m unsure I can deliver. However, I will say anything to chase her worries away.

Because I have nothing else to say to calm the storm I see in her eyes, I do what I do best. I crush my lips to hers in a hungry kiss.

Her body responds instantly to mine, yielding, molding. My hands surge over her body, exploring, bruising, and searching.

My fingers pull the tank top over her head. I step back to admire the tits covered only by a tiny strip of fabric. A loud growl rises from my throat.

I grab my shirt and drag it over my head. With our eyes locked, Lottie shimmies her hips as she pulls her shorts down her thighs. We both work on kicking off our shoes. It’s a festival of tossing clothes and shoes.

Our lips clash again. Hungry. Desperate.

We are both down to our swimwear. Her generous breasts are pressing against my chest. A possessive feeling grabs hold of me. I cup behind Lottie’s knees so her legs can hook around my hips.

I step into the lake, our mouths moving at a frantic pace. As our bodies submerge in the water, Lottie’s becomes weightless. With a firm grip on her ass cheek, I grind her core against my throbbing erection. She moans loudly, her head falling back, her nails biting into the skin of my shoulders. My mouth seeks her neck, sucking her soft skin. My teeth scrape her collarbone, my hips gyrating, pushing into her pussy.

“I need inside you. Now.”

“Yes, please,” she cries with the same desperation in her voice.

“Behind the waterfall.” I let go of her. With a few strokes, we dive under the curtain of water and emerge from behind it.

My need to fuse our bodies together is frightening. Whenever I have sex, though I’m paid to pleasure my partner, I take as much as I give. I enjoy the carnal connection. I savor the ecstasy of coming inside a warm body. Plain and simple, I like sex.

But this is different. There is a frenzy surging through me, humming over my nerve endings. The blood in my veins boils. My skin is too tight for my body. A haze of desperation blinds me.

Under the water, my hands seek her hips. I flush her body to mine.

“I’m not using a condom. I need to feel you bare.” Though my tone is commanding, my eyes seek hers for permission. “I’ll pull out,” I promise.

“I’m on the pill.” She shakes her head. “Don’t pull out,” she says, her voice trembling.

A groan escapes my throat. I move us until her back is pressed against a smooth wall of stone. Droplets of water saturate the air surrounding us. The green from the trees’ canopies filter through the clear cascade. It’s a piece of heaven on earth.

I draw back and look at Lottie’s face. I urge myself to slow it down, make it pleasurable for her. Then, I remind myself that this isn’t an assignment. Yes, I want to please her, need to please her. But not out of obligation. Her pleasure is my pleasure.

The stream offers us solace. Water hitting the stones creates a sound barrier. We have our own little world.

I pull the strings on either side of her bikini bottom and shove it inside my trunks pocket. I repeat the same with her top.

I draw back to exam her. Her wet hair falls into a curtain around her breasts. Her eyes are wide. Her pupils dilated, her lips swollen and parted. Her hands are bracing the wall on either side of her body.

She is breathtaking.

My dick, strained inside my trunks, throbs demanding action. I ignore it. The need to be inside her is all consuming. But damn if I won’t make this moment last as long as I can. Savor the sight of her. Pliant. Docile. Waiting for me. Her chest rising and falling in expectation. Her need matching my own. No. This is not to be rushed. This is sacred.

Then it hits me. Like a meteor crashing earth. This is not sex.

I won’t stroll down the cliché road and say we are making love. No. Too soon, too cheesy. However, I’ll be honest and admit that this is more than a fuck. It’s a connection of two bodies wherein the souls are also connected. And therein lies the difference.

I shake my head, bemused. The aftershock of the collision makes me dizzy.

I relocate my attention back to the texture of Lottie’s skin beneath my touch. Solemnly, I slide my thumb over her lips. Her alabaster skin is flawless. I lean in, and my forehead touches hers. “If I tell you that I never wanted someone else as much as I want you right now, would you believe me?” My voice is hoarse, raw.

She nods. She must feel it too. The electric energy that is humming from her body to mine crackles in the air.

With my tongue, I trace the water sluicing down her face, along her neck. Her skin pebbles beneath my touch and her body quivers.

My mouth captures her pink and tight nipple. I suck its sweetness, relishing in her moans of delight. It’s heady and intoxicating.

I acknowledge that our relationship happened excessively fast, rushed even. However, whatever the hell is going on between us has to be right. She feels so right beneath my hands, beneath my tongue.

I give the same attention to her other breast. One of my hands sprawls over her sternum, pinning her to the wall of stone. Her heart pounds wildly. And I swear it beats rhythmically with mine, matching beat by beat.

Slowly, I slide my hand over her breast, along her ribs, down her abdomen, finally cupping her apex. On its own volition, my finger seeks her depth. I close my eyes. Inside of her is warm, tight. I circle my finger slowly, touching every inch I’ll soon brand.

A small whimper comes from Lottie. Her hooded eyes are a shade darker. They’re pleading.

“So warm,” I say, adding a second finger.

“Please,” she begs.

“Oh, baby, I love when you beg.”

“Please, Seth, please.”

My lips capture hers. We kiss deeply as she rides my hand. Her breath catches, her head bobs back, her fingers turn white as her grip on the wall tightens. She’s so close.

“Come for me, baby,” I order with my teeth grazing her nipple. She arches her back, and I suck at it relentlessly. She cries. Her voice is hoarse, loud, and inhibited. It reverberates on the wall of the small cavern.

I pull my dick out of my trunks and with one swift stroke I drive inside her. Her pussy grips my length, and for the life of me, I struggle not to come right away. I move slowly, circling, touching every inch of her.

“You feel so good, baby,” I moan, lowering my head to the crook of her neck.

Her small hands grip my shoulders. I begin a pilgrimage, searching for nirvana. I slide one arm around her waist to protect her from hitting the stone. My other hand braces the wall. She tightens the hold of her legs around my hips, her heels sinking into my ass.

It feels so perfect. So right. “You okay?” I ask, afraid to hurt her on the rough wall.

“Yes. Hard. I want hard,” she pleads in a whisper.

“Oh baby, you shouldn’t say things like that when there’s no barrier between us . . .”

“Hard. Ride me hard. Hold nothing back,” she repeats breathily. Our bodies slither and slap against each other. Her hips writhe, seeking better friction.

“Hold on tight, baby.”

I draw back and slam into her. She cries and it’s a glorious sound. It awakens the beast I’m trying to keep at bay. It unleashes a wild, primitive savage.

My body goes into a blind frenzy of need. I drive again and again into her depth of warmth pushing us both to the brink of an abyss of pleasure. A place that obliterates reality, where body and spirit blend into one being.

Her body trembles, her muscles coil, tightening around my cock.

“Oh God, Lottie,” I mumble.

She screams again. Louder. Bolder. Her screams blend with my grunts. My body coils, trembles. We fall into a bottomless chasm of infinite ecstasy. There is no longer her or me, just millions of blended shards of pleasure. Body, soul, and spirit entwined, mingled. We are one. We are one million pieces. We are bound by the exchange of something deeper than a mere carnal union.