How to Honeymoon Alone

I lean my head back against his shoulder. “Did you order that room service?”

“Hmm?” he says, eyes focused on the two of us in the mirror. He’s pressing the heel of his hand against my clit.

My breathing speeds up. “You’re usually so articulate.”

“Yes,” he says.

“What did I just say?”

He forces his eyes to meet to mine. The dark-blue looks almost black. “I have no fucking clue.”

I laugh, and then he’s smiling, too, bending to kiss my neck. “Was it important?”

“It really, really wasn’t.”

“Good,” he says, and his hand delves deeper. His middle finger pushes inside of me. “Because I have work to do.”

“And you really like your job.”

“That’s right,” he says. His hand circles and parts and speeds up as we both watch. Maybe it’s the watching, or the fact that it’s so bright in here, or the strong feel of his arm around my waist and his free hand gripping my breast, but I’m at the edge quicker than I expected.

I squirm against his hand. “Why are you still wearing your clothes?” I ask, the need inside of me growing. “This is just like last time… I…need…”

His arm around me tightens, and I can see it flex in the mirror. His dark hair is a smudge against my neck as he kisses me. “Stay still,” he says.

“Okay. But I’m… oh.”

The fidgety restlessness, the pleasure-pain, all of it breaks into an orgasm. I come around his hand, and my legs threaten to give out, or maybe they do, but he supports me through it all. And when it’s over, I feel him hard against my backside, and I know this isn’t going to be a repeat of the pool.

Not again.

I turn in his arms and kiss him, my hands move between our bodies to make quick work of his shirt. His skin is warm to the touch, his chest hair a soft scrape against my fingertips.

“Eden,” he mutters with a groan when I find the button of his shorts.

“You didn’t let me last time.”

“I didn’t have a condom last time,” he says and looks down between our bodies.

The word flashes through my brain. Condom. “Oh. I didn’t even think about that.”

“No, I noticed,” he says. “But we stopped at a mini-mart today.”

“That’s what you bought? I thought you needed a new phone charger.”

“Well, I needed that too,” he says. “Eden.”

I pull down his zipper, going achingly slow. There needs to be payback for all the taunting he’s done. The bulge beneath my hand is big, growing larger with every slow inch unzipped.

The sharp, loud sound of a doorbell rings out.

Phillip takes a ragged breath. “Damn.”

“What is it?”

“Room service.” He takes a step back, his face drawn in pained lines, and pulls his zipper back up. “Stay in here.”

“Yeah.”

He pushes the bathroom door shut behind him, and then I hear a loud fuck, where’s my wallet?

Five minutes later the hotel attendant has left, none the wiser, and the scent of fresh french fries spreads through the bungalow.

Phillip locks the front door and walks across the room to me. “I thought I told you to stay in the bathroom.”

“You did,” I say and walk backward toward the bedroom. “But I don’t like doing what I’m told.”

He wraps his arms around me, kissing me, his hands roaming over my body. The gentleness of when he put after-sun lotion on me is gone.

I shove at his shorts, impatient with the zipper, and he helps me push his shorts down. His cock springs free, and I reach for it, wrapping my hand around him.

If I’d thought he was warm before, he’s burning hot now.

Phillip’s breath catches when I stroke, clumsily and at a weird angle, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“I want to taste you,” I say. I mean it, too. Every part of this man is sculpted and handsome. I feel high from my orgasm in front of the mirror and powerful, standing here with his arousal in my hand.

But he halts me on my way down his body. “Eden,” he says harshly. “I really want that, trust me. But I’m too fucking turned-on for that right now.”

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His words spread warmth through me, and I wonder if I’ve ever been this wanted before.

He kisses me deeply and disappears for a second to get the condoms he’d bought. I trace my fingers along my lips and marvel at the aching feeling inside me. I need him. Can’t wait for the feeling of being filled.

Phillip returns and rolls the condom on with one hand. My stomach tightens at the sight, and the nerves that had crept in disappear in a blink, singed away by the heat in his eyes.

I crawl backward up the bed, propping myself on my elbows.

“No,” he says. “Your back. It’ll hurt you.”

“Oh. I can prob-”

He grabs my hips and flips us over, pulling me on top of him. My thighs fall astride him, and I’m sitting right there, above the thick length of his cock. As I look down, it twitches against his stomach.

“Eden,” he mutters, his hands digging into my hips. He lifts me up, and the muscles in his arms flex. “I need to fuck you now.”

God, do I need that, too.