17: Darker Is Spicier

Something doesn't feel right… 

My body freezes in place. I'm on a freaking island in the middle of the Indian Ocean! 

“I see someone misses me,” he gives his small, charming smile, and slips his phone into the pocket of his pants. 

I force a smile. It feels like my heart will jump out of my mouth. 

Before you blame me, he's all shades of perfection. I can't tell what it is about him that pulls me to him without effort.

“Tell me,” his hands curl around my waist, and he gently rocks me to his frame. “How much do you miss me?”

I feel blood pool beneath my skin and clog beneath. I'm going hot for a man I should push into the ocean and flee to safety. 

My lips pout at their own will. My body has a way of betraying me when it's about him. 

“Speechless, huh?” He chuckles and leans in to press wet kisses along my neck. “You smell so, delicious.” He moans against my skin. 

I hold my breath and try not to gasp from his kisses. 

When he nibbles the soft flesh beneath my chin, I suck in cool air and shudder. 

“Hmm,” he is startled by my reaction. “Just what I want.” 

He traces downward and kisses down my chest, right in between my breasts. 

“Soon… very soon, mama… I'd drink in all of you.” He looks up to meet my gaze. 

Too late, my horny eyes are out of their sockets. 

“I'd try not to bruise you so bad, mama… but know, I can't promise to be gentle for long.” 

His tone is dark and hard, as hard as his bulge poking my belly. 

I feel a warm fluid streak between my thighs. I'm being turned on by his words. I shut my eyes and try to breathe properly. 

Oddly, he lets me go. When I open my eyes, I see him squatting before me. 

“Get on, I promised you a surprise.” 

A warm smile ignites from my bowels. Like a cowgirl, I hop on his back, riding my favorite horse. 

My arms wrap around his neck and I pull against him, too close that I give myself off cheaply. 

“You're wet, mama.” His voice is a deep moan. 

I foolishly purr and drip harder, sticking my body to his shirt. Oh, god!

“I'm tempted to lay you down and clean you up.” 

My pussy clenches to his dirty words. The wild imagination of being pressed to the sharp sand and having his tongue tickle me, makes my clit beat hard. 

“It’s unfair not to fulfill your promise. Except you're not as gentle as you claim.”

He groans. “Tessa… I won't warn you for long.” He lets out another subtle threat. “It'll just be both of us in the wild, you'd scream so loud and beg for mercy.” 

My cheeks burn. I lay against his back and let him ride me to wherever he wants. 

Inciting anything in him, I rock against his back, kneading my pre-cum between us. 

He groans and hums, making it hard to stop. His rough hands grasp tighter around my leg like he wants to snap my bones in half. 

I can only imagine how hard his dick is right now. 

When he stops, I take a look at my surroundings. It is a small outlet with a table. Sweet-smelling candles lit around it. 

It's a massage room. 

He sets me down and takes my hand in his. 

“I need you lubed up for Daddy.” He teases. 

When he looks at me, I lose all sense of decency and smack him. My breasts smear on his hard chest, my nipples press hard against him, and I pin on my toes to let his erection slip beneath my gown. 

I'm bare… totally naked beneath. 

“Just a little bit more, mama.” He mumbles. My hand cups his face, begging for a chance. “You'd be glad I prepared you for what's coming.”

I heave a sigh and push away. 

As if I don't care anymore, I recklessly strip and make my way to the table. 

“Not so fast.” His hand grabs my wrist. 

Before I can speak up in defense, he scoops me in his arms, pressing my naked body to his. 

I gasp, boobs in his face, arms lock around him for my dear life. My eyes remain on him as he leads me to the table. 

He gently drops me on the warm table. 

“Allow me to make every second count.” He murmurs. 

Perhaps if I fuck him soon enough, I'd get over him, or his charms on me will die off. I can't remember the last time I wished for my vibrator… something I'd never go a day without. 

Warm liquid dissolves on me like wax. It's the oil from the candles. It smells of bourbon and pine. In a soft drizzle, he lines it along my body, and down my pubic region as it slips in between my wet thighs. 

Greedy moans escape my lips. 

The oil blends with my juice, setting my body on fire. I'm not violent, but I can't tell how long I'd keep my hands to myself. 

If only he knew he wasn't safe with a woman. 

He pours a good amount into his palms and lays them on my shoulders. With precision, he beats and kneads my shoulder in a tender massage. 

It feels so fucking good. 

“You have a bunch of staff for everything. Why didn't you get a professional masseur?” 

He hums and trails around my breasts in soft circles. Slowly, he molds up to my areola and nipples. 

“Are you saying I'm not good enough?” His tone is cold. 

“A professional would have added a feather to your hat.” I tease further. 

He scoffs. “I made efforts. I searched for a blind and handicapped masseur, but I couldn't find one.”

I chuckle. “How convenient.” 

Silence envelops us for a minute. 

“You know, you shouldn't wander so far.” He massages. “Some places are meant for the dark.” 

I blink at his vague words. 

“Let me give you a proper tour. It'd save you, really.” 

I sigh and brush his words aside. My fingers play around his zipper. I'm threatening to release his erection, and hesitating so he can pull away… but he doesn't. 

Instead, he groans and continues molding me. Now, he trails down my belly, reaching for the area I need him the most. 

*** *** 

Last night had us pleasuring ourselves with our hands. I rocked him with my small hands and he fondled with my pussy likewise. 

He stayed true to his words, didn't fuck me as I wished for. I'm beginning to get frustrated. If I looked into my future and saw I'd be begging for a man's dick, I would have died. 

The noise from close by snatches my mind to the fine paradise. 

I'm outside, stretched on a recliner, and enjoying the soft rays of the summer sun. Sunbathing with a touch of nature's caress in the form of a gentle breeze is to die for. 

My eyes search for the source of the noise. 

At a sharp bend, I see a garden of blooming roses. The back of a tall guy with tanned skin is to me. In silence, he continues trimming. 

Oh, my god.

My legs slip out before I can think straight. It leads me past the walkway and right to the fine garden. 

“Hi…” I'm not sure if he is a native Maldivian. “A rose, please.” I count my words. Fazeel is a purebred, it's not so easy communicating with him. 

The young man's smile is contagious. He plucks a rose and pauses. “I can make you a bouquet.” His tone is gentle, like the ocean. 

“I'd … I'd love that.” I grin sheepishly. 

He keeps his smile and starts handpicking a bouquet. 

Leaves rustle, and soft footsteps approach us. In a minute, Monster's tall frame appears. He covers the distance in long strides. 

“Mama,” his tone is flat. His jaws are clenched like he got in a fight. “I was searching all over for you.”

“Good morning, boss.”

He ignores the Gardner. 

“Uh… I was sunbathing and I saw this rose garden.” I expel air. “It’s so cute,” I squeal. “He wants to hand me a bouquet.”

He doesn't smile, at the very least. “Let me.” He steps in front of him, nudging the man aside with his slightly bigger frame. 

I notice the gardener pressing his lips firmly like he's holding back a cry. Monster, on the other hand, has a small grin kissing his lips. 

What's going on?

“Roses have thorns,” he resumes. “I would hate for anything else to prick you.”

A warm blush paints my cheeks. 

“I was careful…”

He shoots an angry glare at the Gardner, shutting him up. “I wasn't talking to you, boy.” He hisses. “Excuse my lady and me.” 

His tone lays so much claim on me, like he's painting a hard point. 

The staff nods and turns to leave. He stops midway when Monster speaks. 

“Take the day off. I'd need alone time with my woman.” 

I duck to suppress a smile. 

“Are you that jealous?” I ask when we're alone. 

His jaws remain hard. “He's no one. And you're mine.” 

I chuckle, unable to keep it in. 

“It’s not funny, mama.” He groans. “You can't just walk around in nothing.” 

I gasp and look down as if I'm not sure of myself. I'm in his freaking top!

“I'm not naked,” I rumble. “Besides, you're not expecting me to wear your pants.”

He shrugs. “It doesn't sound like such a bad idea. Does it?” 

Dear Lord. I just watch this red man pick me the roses. He sighs when he gets poked. 

“Here,” he stretches it over to me. “I can pick more if you want.” 

I don't immediately take it. With deliberate steps, I cross the distance between us, now standing barely three inches from him. 

My hand lay on his, not the bunch of fine roses. 

“Anything you give, I'd take.” My eyes run down his fucking hot features. 

I try not to swallow so hard. 

In the spur of the moment, he grips my waist and traps me in his body. 

I'm so close that I can sniff his scent, a mix of spice and sweat. He's been under the sun for a long time. 

Gosh! I want to run him a bath after making him filthy… Is it wild if I say I'm jealous of the water that'd run down his nakedness, or the soap that'd rub all over him? 

He makes me wild and leaves me to catch up in flames. 

“I meant it when I said nothing else will prick you.” His voice is deep and cold. 

Down below, I feel my legs part as he slips in between and nudges further in. 

My heart skips a beat  

It was never about the rose… no, it wasn't. 

"I don't intend sharing, mama." His teeth roughly scrape my skin. 

I go still in his arms, helpless. His eyes on me make me feel naked. 

Staring at this darker side of him makes me freeze in place, in total surrender. 

He tilts downward, breathing heavily against my body. Goosebumps rise and creep all over my bare skin. 

“Tomorrow, I want to make you my woman, Tessa.” He groans in my ear. 

With James, it's spontaneous… I've never had to plan and prepare to be fucked. But the dirty imaginations make me soak beneath. 

“But I have one favor, mama.” He sniffs and rubs the fine edges of my ear with the tip of his nose. “Let me tape it.”