Page 42 of Weathering The Storm

I suck in a sharp breath as he bites me harder, his muscles fluttering around my fingers. “I wanna taste.”

His fingers hit my cheek before my lips, leaving a sticky trail before he finds my tongue and feeds me his pre-cum. More than anything, the taste of Nick's arousal sends a bullet of desire straight through me.

I can feel the groan building in my chest. It’s only a matter of time before I lose my shit when everything about him is designed to set me off.

I unclamp my hand over his mouth. “Turn around.”

As soon as he does, he kisses me like he’s forgotten about everything else. Like getting off is secondary to connecting us together. I could kiss him like this for ages, reveling in our closeness, in the rough scrapes and bites and the fervent tangle of tongues.

It goes on and on. Until our lips are lax and kissing loses all structure to become more of a meeting of mouths. A tease of everything that can be done with them. A preview of everything I’mgoingto do to him.

I sit up and turn around carefully—a lesson I’ve learned after banging my head on the top bunk enough times.

My face lands somewhere between his knees, but he understands what I want immediately, shifting down until his cock hits my chin at the same time as I feel his warm breath on my balls.

I take his dick into my mouth and wrap my arm around his waist, feeding him mine. Silencing his next groan around my length and then silencing mine with his.

Nick’s hips jerk, chasing the warmth of my mouth as my hand slides back down. Two fingers hook inside him where they belong, massaging. His throat constricts around the head of my cock every time he tries not to make a sound.

His quads flex as he thrusts now, shamelessly enjoying my mouth while I enjoy the way he savors me. Laving over every inch of my shaft and balls, licking up my pre-cum. Grabbing my ass and gagging himself on me.

The soft frizz of his hair brushes against my thighs and the coarse grit of his beard tickles my lower stomach. The blur of pleasure with him sucking me, filling me, surrounding me, is thicker than a foggy summer morning in the Aleutian Islands. But his exploration cuts through it. His finger slides between my cheeks, moving back and forth in light strokes. Teasing me the way I teasedhimopen.

The visual of that powerful body both bending to take me and bending to fuck me finally breaks me apart.

I shudder, and before I fully explode, Nick thickens and spills onto my tongue. Salty, generous pumps of cum that I drink down while he grabs my ass and forces me to soak in his mouth until I burst seconds later.

For a moment, I lay my head on his thigh. Both of us still twitching as I caress his bare skin until I’ve recovered enough to move without flopping onto the floor. I only have one pillow, sowe share it. Face to face, nose to nose, as we come down from the dopamine rush together.

Outside the boat, rain begins to fall on the deck. A musical scattering of water droplets on metal. Just a few, at first, but it rapidly escalates to a full-blown symphony. Cymbal crashes of lightning off in the distance. The rhythmic smacking of swells against the hull like mallets on a timpani.

It’s twenty-two degrees and dropping, the storm coating everything on deck in ice I’ll have to knock down later. But I’ve never been more warm than I am now. The sort of warm that heats from outside in and inside out.

Nick breathes a little fuller now that the background noise masks the sounds within the room. He drapes an arm over me, snuggling closer as I sift my fingers through his hair and commit the way he feels to memory. Hoping it’ll keep me warm when we’re back to work again.

“Funny,” he says. “I can’t sleep for shit when it’s raining while we’re out there. Anchored though, it’s like Dramamine.”

“It’s the best. When I don’t have to be on deck in it.”

“You’ve got that right.” His smile slowly fades as he presses his lips wherever they land. My neck, my collarbones, my chest. “I should’ve asked you to stay, at Dutch. I wanted you to.”

“I wanted to stay, too.” My heart throbs at the thought of him leaving again, my fingers curling reflexively against his scalp and around his waist. “But it’s okay. I understand.”

His eyelids flutter open, still heavy. “Do you want me to stay now?”

Always. I always want you to stay.“Only if you want to,” I force myself to say instead. “I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

“I’m sure.” His lips take mine, gentle and earnest. Beneath my palm, his heartbeat is steady. “I’ve regretted it every day—not spending the night with you when I had the chance.”

I pull the covers up to our chins, holding him tighter as the swells roughen.

His breathing slows and evens out, and I’m not far behind. Sleep looms as I drink my fill of the peace washed over his features. The lines on his face completely smoothed. His lips parted. His eyelashes, so light in color, it’s difficult to notice how long they are until he’s veiled by darkness.

He mumbles something. It might not even be conscious, but I murmur back to him anyway.

“I’m sure about you, too.”

Chapter 12