She blinks and her smile returns. The waiter also returns with our orders, and I kiss the side of her head. As he puts three orders of eggs—poached, scrambled, and wrapped in an omelet—in front of us, all served with sides of sausage, bacon, and ham. We spread out the plates and get ready to sample, share, and devour.
“Delicious,” she smiles, lifting a thin slice of salty pork and taking a big bite.
After breakfast we head down to the shore in front of Melissa’s place. My office is still closed for the New Year’s holiday, which I spent wrapped in my lady’s arms, but I’ll be heading back to Princeton in another day.
She inhales deeply as we walk, and the strong breeze pushes her dark hair off her shoulders. It also whips her black skirt around her still-slim hips, and she has my fleece jacket zipped all the way up. It’s like a dress on her.
“I have an idea,” she says, slanting those baby blues at me, “What if you stay in Princeton and I stay here, and we just met up for conjugal visits?”
I decide to take her challenge and raise it. “That sounds like a reasonable plan. I can probably go a month between visits. How about you?”
Her expression almost costs me my poker face. Clearly she did not expect me to concede to her ridiculous offer, and it appears she might cry. Her brow melts into a frown, which she tries to lift and fails.
“I was only teasing,” she says in a voice that twists my insides. “I can barely stand us being apart for a week.”
It’s impossible to hold out after that, and I scoop her small frame against my chest. “And I can barely stand two hours.” I lean forward and kiss her again, and as always, her body melts into mine. It awakens my urge to take her.
“I’ve been thinking about you all morning,” I say. “Let’s go back to bed.”
Her nose wrinkles as she laughs. “Maybe it is better for us to be separated for now. We’re way too horny to get anything done in the same city.”
Her use of the pronoun we is all I need. My eyes meet hers, and I see that fire brewing in them. It’s only grown stronger since she’s been pregnant, and I know from our first encounters she doesn’t shrink from being risqué.
Glancing over my shoulder, I verify that we’re alone. No one is out on this cold, January day but us, and we have the beach to ourselves. Still, I use discretion, leading her away from the open shoreline into a nearby patch of beach scrub. It’s not only private, it’s out of the breeze and less chilly.
I sit on the soft sand, pulling her onto my lap. Skirts and thong underwear might be my favorite clothing combination. My hands are up her thighs and caressing her clit as fast as our lips can find each other’s. Her arms are tight around my neck and her whimpers slip out between passes of my mouth over hers. My erection is straining against the zipper of my jeans, and I want nothing more than to be buried in her tight, wet opening this instant. I’ve wanted it all morning.
Her hand goes to my waist to unfasten my pants, and when her slim fingers wrap around me, the memory of her mouth closing over my tip almost sends me off. The first time she gave me head, I almost shot down her throat it was so good. But I fight to distract myself from those thoughts and get her off instead. I’ve been on edge all morning, and her hand sliding up and down my dick isn’t helping. My fingers press into her wet opening as my thumb caresses her clit. I can tell by her breathing, she isn’t far behind me.
“Ooh,” she moans, sending shockwaves through my shaft. I want to be inside her so badly. Quickly, I slide down the zipper on my jacket and lift her shirt, catching one of her taut nipples in my mouth. Her breasts are gorgeous right now. I give one a little suck, and she sighs with pleasure. I almost lose control.
“I need to be inside you,” I whisper, moving my mouth to her ear. I give her lobe a little bite, and she shivers. At once, she shifts her position, moving her thong aside and dropping down on my cock.
“Uuh,” I can’t help but groan as her warm passage envelops me. I wanted to lay her back and pound her hard on the sand, but I’m not sure she’s finished yet. Gripping her ass, I lifted her up and down, keeping my thumb on her clit, massaging her.
Her arms tighten around my neck as her breasts rise under my chin with every lift. It’s fucking amazing and almost more than I can take. “Derek,” she gasps in my ear, and I know we’re hitting the right spot. She’s lifting herself on me now without my even helping her.
“Don’t stop,” she gasps, but I’m barely touching her as she works me. I’m doing everything in my power to hold out while she finishes. Her inner muscles tighten on me as her orgasm begins, pulling and releasing. It’s far better than hands or a mouth, feeling her come around my cock.
“Oh, shit,” I groan, but I can’t stop it. Her inner workings have me shooting off inside her, and the pleasure momentarily blacks out my thoughts. All I know is me buried deep in her gorgeous body, my orgasm primed and extended by hers. Instinctively, my grip on her ass tightens, and I’m lifting her harder and faster up and down as I finish.
A hoarse moan scrapes from her throat, and as I continue moving her, more noises follow. Her thighs quiver, her knees press into the sand, and she’s riding me now. She’s making it, and after several more movements, she drops, arms draped around my neck, head on my shoulder, aftershocks slowly subsiding.
“God, I love you,” I murmur, kissing her neck, traveling with my lips behind her ear, causing her to shiver again and laugh.
She sits up and holds my face, her cheeks pretty and pink from her climax. “I love you,” she says in a breathy voice.
Our warmth is like our own little world. Sure, we might violate a public decency law every so often, but we take care to keep it secret and unseen. Without moving her away, staying buried deep between her thighs, I reach for my pants pocket.
“I’ve been trying to find the right time to give you this,” I say, fumbling for the black velvet box. Her eyes widen, and instantly she’s off my lap, pulling down her skirt and sitting beside me on the sand. She takes the small box, but doesn’t open it.
Pulling my jeans up, I catch her eyes on mine, and I can see her enthusiasm. “Is this what I think it is?” Her voice is still breathless.
A smile crosses my lips. “I can’t read your mind.”
For a moment, she only holds it, and my stomach tightens in anticipation. I took a chance on this ring—it isn’t the traditional diamond, but I figured since we’ve both been married once before, we might be up for something different.
With a quick glance back at me, she pulls the top open and then gasps. Inside is a square-cut blue sapphire ring encased in platinum with tiny white diamonds all around it. It’s an art deco style, and it matches her eyes and the sea perfectly.