Heaven in Hedonism (The Sinful Series Book 3) (13 page)

Ignoring him completely, I grabbed his hand. “To the room,” I muttered, feeling immensely more sober than I had been when we first started walking not long ago.

It was a short distance to the room. By the time we arrived, his hard on was long gone. I wasn’t worried. Given experience, I could fix that. Walking directly into the bathroom, I turned the water on. He was still standing in the bedroom, staring at me through the glass. Apparently subtle wasn’t working at the moment. “Care to join me?” I asked as I leaned out the door.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He teased.

“Oh, I’ll ask,” I admitted as he walked up behind me. “Just don’t expect me to beg. It’s not in my nature.”

His arms reached around and cupped my breasts. “I’d never make you, it’s not in mine,” he whispered in my ear. Between his touch and his warm breath in my ear I had a shiver running down my spine.

Together we walked into the shower and immediately began luxuriating in the heated spray. Without speaking, Mac reached over and found my shampoo. At first, I wanted to object. After years of traveling with Sin, I had grown territorial over my toiletries. Before I could say anything, however, he was using the liquid in the palm of his hand to wash my hair. His hands massaging my scalp and the steam from the shower were making me boneless once more. I just wanted to melt into him. Mac wouldn’t have it, however. Gently pushing me an arm’s length away, he rinsed my hair until the water ran clear, then he grabbed my shower gel and started to clean the sand off my arms. By the time he reached my shoulder he was planting soft kisses wherever he finished cleaning.

Soon he had me seated on the ledge and leaned back against the tiled shower wall. This might have been the longest I had ever been silent with him. The urge to speak was great, but I’d kill myself if I ruined this moment. I was dying to see what he was going to do next. So far, he had yet to disappoint. The man had covered me in a seashell bikini. It was probably one of the most sensual experiences of my life. I could trust him to seal the deal. Please let him seal the deal.

His hands lathered my thighs, my calves, and my feet. He rubbed my flat stomach. His hands roamed over my painfully hard nipples. Finally, we both knew there was only one place he hadn’t washed. I knew I was wet and achy in anticipation. Kneeling between my legs, Mac ever so gently washed my vajay-jay. As soon as the bubbles were gone, he slipped first one finger, then a second inside me. “More,” I demanded.

“Three? Really?” he asked in disbelief.

Shaking my head, I urged, “No, you!”

I could actually see the light going on in his head. Somehow, I knew I had just given him the power to torture me. I was regretting it already.

“Well, they are my fingers. Same thing, right?” His eyes sparkled. He was enjoying this too much.

“Stop. I want your cock in me. Now.” Then I snapped my thighs shut and pulled away, my chin set in defiance.

“So that’s how it is?” He chuckled.

Nodding, I frowned. “That’s how it is.”

“You’ll have to do something about this.” He teased. Then he thrust his pelvis toward me, sporting a semi.

Shrugging, I faced my task. Reaching out, I cupped his balls with one hand and gripped his penis with the other. Then, looking at him, I slowly opened my mouth. The moment my tongue connected with the tip of his dick, he inhaled sharply. His reaction only made me feel more powerful. Soon, I had taken all of him in my mouth. With my lips and my hand, I mimicked what it would feel like inside me, until he was pulsing hard.

“Now what are you gonna do with that?” he asked, eyes fixed on me.

“Sit,” I ordered, standing so he could take my place.

Once he did, I turned and sat on his lap, impaling myself on the process. Then I rode him. It felt so good to have him inside me once more. The alcohol dulled my senses more than I liked, but I planned on a repeat performance after dinner and as often as possible for the rest of the trip. I was stocking up. Who knew what would happen once we returned to San Francisco? I had stopped trusting in future plans long ago.

“Oh, Jolie,” he moaned. “Can I come?”

I knew what he meant. I wasn’t sure I was close. I might not get to finish. For a moment, I hesitated to answer. He seemed to instinctually understand why. Suddenly his hand snaked around my waist and found my clitoris. He rubbed me just perfectly, better than any woman ever had. In seconds, the combination of his hand and his cock had me panting. As we neared the one minute mark, I was whimpering. Finally, I could feel him pulsing inside me. It sent me over the edge. The contractions wracked my body, tightening around him.

Pulling away slowly, I stood and rinsed. Mac still hadn’t moved. “Come on. Let’s get dressed and go eat.” Our time in the shower had satisfied one appetite, but increased another. I needed fuel.

“How can a week with you ever satisfy me?” he questioned.

“Days from now, you will be rushing to lose me in customs.” I predicted.

“Never, H. Jolie Ward. You are the kind of woman I’d rush to.”

There it was. My plan for the week. Satisfy the man. Luckily, I was up to the task. Though I had spent the last ten years being pretty much selfish, self-serving, and self-indulgent, now I was the consummate giver. It was quite the change.

Over the remainder of the week, I made sure to keep a smile on his face and give him loads of orgasms. The two pretty much went hand in hand. It started Monday night after dinner. We ate late after the shower sex. We took our time enjoying our meal. When we were through, we barely had the energy for the walk back to the room, which was how we ended up stripping down on our patio and climbing into our private hot tub.

“You know,” I began casually, “we have a basket full of toys we still haven’t tried out yet.”

Smiling broadly, Mac agreed. “We sure do. And the rest of the week to take them for a test drive.” He stretched his arms out before him, then slowly folded them behind his head. “So, what would you like to try first?” He winked at me happily.

It made me laugh. “Okay, well, I haven’t done much of this before,” I admitted. That was a first, me divulging a weakness. “But I’m game for anything. This is Hedonism, after all. We should cut loose and get wild. You know tonight is the Sexy Pirates and Booty shorts theme party.”

Mac sighed before leaning forward, closing the distance between us. “I’d love to say we should go, but I’ve never lied to you and I sure as bloody hell don’t plan on starting now.”

Perking up, I leaned closer. “You said ‘bloody.’ This must be serious.” A smirk graced my face.

Clearing his throat, he nodded. Mac looked up at me through his lashes. I could have sworn he pierced my heart then. My smirk faded. “I’m not ready to share you.”

The words were spoken so quietly I wasn’t entirely certain I heard him correctly. Leaning closer, I turned my ear closer. “I’m not sure what you said. It sounded like you don’t want to share me?” Confusion should have been evident in my voice.

“That’s what I said.”

Sitting up stiffly, I stared at him. “I’m not into swinging, if that’s what you think.” I could feel the bile rising in my throat as I imagined us doing that, seeing some other woman touch him, kiss him, or worse…him being in her. I wrapped my arms around my body protectively.

“Not that.” He laughed. His arms darted toward me, captured me, and pulled me onto his lap. “Never that,” he murmured in my ear. Settling against the back of the tub, he repositioned me until he had me right where he wanted me. “If another man looked at you in booty shorts, I’d probably lose it on him.”

Feeling immensely better, I decided to use this moment to my advantage. “So I suppose Tuesday’s party of Pajamas and Pasties is out of the question.” As I awaited his response, I bit my cheek to hold back the laughter, and another thought occurred to me. No one else had ever made me feel so sexy and wanted.

“Hell no, we’re not going!” he growled.

“Fetish Fantasy Night?”

“Jolie,” he said in a warning voice.

Turning my face toward his, I gave him my most innocent wide-eyed look. “Is there a party I’m allowed to go to?” I could feel the tension dissipating.

Now it was Mac’s turn to smirk. As soon as I saw his face, I couldn’t wait to hear what his smartass response was going to be. “There’s a party in my pants you’re invited to.”

My response was swift. I burst out laughing so hard I lost my balance on his lap, fell into the hot tub, and had to be pulled up to the surface, sputtering. Moments later I was still choking.

“Was it worth it?” he asked dryly.

“Absolutely,” I managed in between coughs.

“I’m going to ask you that question again in a few hours.” He teased, while climbing out of the hot tub.

“What’s in a couple of hours?” I asked as I pounded on my chest with a fist.

Watching me for a moment, he tried to hide a laugh. “It’s not what’s in a couple of hours,” he noted as he walked around the outside of the tub to where I slouched against the side looking up at him. Placing his hands on the side and leaning over me in a way that I found incredibly sexy, he explained. “It’s what we’re going to be doing for the next couple of hours.”

Swallowing, I suddenly wondered if I was ready for this man. My mouth went dry in anticipation. My heart pounded in my chest. “What are we going to do?” The words were barely a whisper.

“Everything,” he announced. “We are going to do absolutely everything.”

The man neither lied nor exaggerated. During the remainder of the week, we did everything beginning the minute he carried me out of the hot tub. “We’re lousy at this tantric bit,” I joked. “I can’t believe we passed that seminar.”

“What are you talking about? We didn’t have sex involving penetration until after the ceremony. I think that showed great control considering I wanted you every moment since we stepped foot on this island.” To emphasize his point, he bent his head low while he walked us to the room and started sucking on my nipple.

Instantly, the mood changed from playful to passionate. All I wanted was for us to get inside away from prying eyes so I could make him moan. “Faster,” I urged. His head started toward my breast again, but I stopped him. Grabbing his chin, I forced him to look me in the eyes. “The room! Walk faster!” Need was making me impatient.

His eyes brightened and he picked up the pace, setting me down just outside the door so he could open it for us. Once inside, I pulled it together and started by pulling the dice out of our tantric goody basket. “First,” I announced, stopping him.

If he was disappointed, he hid it well. Soon we were both on the bed, ready to play. “So how does this work?” he asked.

“Well, it’s foreplay. Let’s see who cracks first.” The gauntlet had been thrown. For the next hour, we rolled dice and performed the acts they suggested. I had sucked on his fingers. He had kissed my nipple until I was writhing in the sheets. Then I had licked his cock until it was jumping and jerking. Still, he refused to break. So the night continued until he had to kiss my pussy and just ended up getting too carried away. Generous woman that I was, we ended the night with oral sex. I couldn’t make life too easy for him.

Tuesday, we decided to try our hand at the tantric sex position our instructor had suggested. Mac sat on the bed, his legs folded, and I sat on his lap. We started kissing, touching, just as she suggested. It was all a natural progression. Soon, I was moving forward to sit on his erection while he manipulated my nipples. Together, we rocked and swayed for over an hour.

“I would love to say this is awesome, but it just doesn’t feel as natural to me,” I admitted. “Maybe we need to forget about this and just kind of do our own thing. Sex doesn’t need to be performed with instructions, right?”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Mac said. Then he flopped me on my back and started pounding into me, just the way I liked.

It didn’t take long. Once we started doing it our way, the welcome pressures began to build, and we were clinging to each other as we found our release. “That’s more like it,” I moaned breathlessly.

While each experience with him was special, my favorite by far was Wednesday. As I climbed onto the end of the bed that evening, Mac stopped me. “Wait.” He held my hips and climbed onto the bed with me. After he had me move toward the middle of the bed, he started caressing my back and hips while I remained on all fours. “Do you have any idea how incredibly beautiful you are?” he murmured while he ran a hand over my ass.

“No, tell me,” I urged. The idea of doggy style had never appealed to me, but for Mac, I might just reconsider.

“I know women think that we forget who they are if we can’t see their face, but I assure you, I know who I’m making love to,” he began.

Every time he used that expression, it created butterflies inside. My heart pounded harder, and my breathing became more ragged. “What else?” I loved the physical reaction I had to his words.

“Honestly, this is my favorite part of the female form. In this position, I can enjoy all of you. I’m rubbing against your buttocks. I can reach around and tease your clitoris. Hell, I can grab your breasts and touch your nipples.” He squeezed a nipple for emphasis. “Oh, and even more than that, you should see how incredible your hips look, the way they flare out just right, giving me something to hold onto as I bury myself deep within you.”

A few more words and I’d literally be dripping wet. “Shut up and get in me,” I growled. It was such sweet agony, waiting for him to enter me. “Oh, Mac,” I moaned as I felt the tip of his erection pressing against my vagina.

Ever so slowly, he pushed his way in, and even more slowly he pulled out. Again and again he did it until I was begging him to go faster. Tired of the teasing, I took matters into my own hands. With my fists knotted in the sheets, I started to move and set the pace.

“I could do this forever,” Mac moaned.

“That’s fine, but I’ll be done in a minute or two,” I warned.

True to my word, moments later my pace changed. His hand rubbing just over my clitoris had me whimpering. My arms buckled. I buried my face in the sheets while my butt remained high in the air. The angle was perfect. Seconds later I could feel him ejaculating inside me.

“That’s my favorite feeling ever,” I said. “I love feeling you come.”

“You can feel that?” he asked in surprise.

Nodding, I smiled. “Every drop.”

Needless to say, Sunday came too soon. We woke knowing in a matter of hours we’d be heading to the airport. As I packed up after breakfast, I joked, “Well, at least I don’t have a lot of laundry to do.”

Mac chuckled. “Of course not. You barely wore any clothes. I’ve come to prefer you that way. The office is going to suck.” He smacked my clothed behind as he passed me on his way to the bathroom. He collected our toiletries which we divvied up and placed in the appropriate bags.

“Who gets the toys?” I asked, realizing we hadn’t stuffed them anywhere.

“I can’t have those in my luggage. Take them with you. I’ll just enjoy them on our weekends together,” he said happily.

“Fine. Hand them over.” I winked.

Though I acted all cool and collected, his words made me think. Apparently he expected us to carry this relationship home with us too. I wasn’t sure I was ready, but I didn’t want to run away either. Maybe this guy was worth sticking around for. Sin had hers. Could I possibly have found mine? Hell, a few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have thought a man was in my future. Then I looked at Mac with a purely utilitarian motive. Now, feelings had intruded.

At two in the afternoon, we headed to the airport. Just as we arrived, Mac’s phone began to ring. He looked at me. “I have to take this.” Then without waiting for my reaction, he walked away, leaving me to talk to the cab driver and check our bags, just when I was starting to get used to being spoiled. By the time he returned to my side, I was steaming.

“What’d I miss?” he asked, happily.

“Everything,” I grumbled. “Let’s go.” Then I walked into the airport. It was going to be a long trip.

“Listen,” he started calmly, “I’m sorry I left you with everything. I had to take the call, even just to tell them I was traveling and couldn’t talk.” He was being incredibly vague. It was Sunday. It was the same time as the week before that he had received the call. I could see a pattern emerging. So far, I didn’t like it.

“Fine,” I said. “Let’s just get on the plane. I have a lot to do when I get home.” Actually, that was a complete lie. I had nothing to do when we returned, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him that. As far as he was concerned, I was busy, popular, well rounded, incredibly sought after. He was lucky to spend time with me.

“Of course,” he murmured.

Soon enough we were on the plane headed back to the states. After a brief layover in Atlanta, we were on the last leg of our journey, hours from San Francisco. Finally, Mac broke the silence.

“Are we having some sort of breakdown in communication?” he asked. “You’ve been unusually quiet. I can’t read your mind. Talk to me.”

Staring at him, I contemplated responding. I just didn’t know how without showing my squishy pink underbelly. Already I felt far too vulnerable. How could I possibly tell him that I feared he had someone else in his life? How could I admit that after two short weeks together, I was falling for him? What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if all my worst fears were realized? So, instead of saying anything like it, I shook my head. “I’m fine.” Then I looked down at the magazine I was pretending to be engrossed in.

“If memory serves, that’s the seventh ‘fine’ you’ve given me since we left Jamaica. Any chance ‘fine’ means something different in American English?” he asked.

I knew he was being playful, but I was still steaming. He had done nothing to appease me, nothing to reassure me, nothing to satisfy my concerns. Instantly, I pulled out my phone and started searching. He wanted to play that game. I’d make sure I knew all the worst words. From now on, he’d know precisely how I felt about him.

When the captain warned that we were about to land, I was still looking up swear words and insults. After we arrived at the gate and we made it to baggage claim, I realized he was on the phone once more. Seriously. I was going to be herding luggage alone. Nope. I was done, completely over it. His apologetic shrug had done nothing to lessen my rage.