“Today’s fresh catch is excellent, unless you do not care for seafood.”
“Then I’ll have that.” Elliot glances at me.
I nod.
“Make that two,” he says.
“Champagne or wine?”
“No, thank you.” Elliot dismisses the butler with a small motion of his head.
I just stare as our butler takes care of everything. “Oh wow.”
Elliot presses his chest against my back, wrapping his arms around me, and leads me to the pool. “We should just chill until Marco’s finished. It won’t take him any time at all.” He sits in one of the lounging chairs, pulling me onto his lap.
His thick cock is hard and pressing against my backside. The vibrator inside m
e buzzes with more intensity.
“Elliot,” I gasp, then squirm.
His teeth nip my ear. “I want to feel you come.”
“But Marco’s in there.” I gesture helplessly at the villa.
“He isn’t going to know. And even if he does, what do you care?” Elliot’s breath fans hotly against my neck. His hands skim along my arms, making me shiver.
I moan, turning around so we can be pressed face-to-face. The vibrator pulses harder, and I let my body sink into him, my mouth on his. Elliot is right. I don’t care about Marco or anything else at all as a climax sweeps over me.
* * *
Annabelle
Elliot is correct about Marco being fast. He’s gone by the time I recover from the orgasm. All our suitcases have been unpacked, our clothes pressed and neatly hanging in the closet.
The vibrator isn’t doing anything for now, but I know Elliot could turn it on at any time. My muscles clench around it, and I breathe out between my lips. The control it gives Elliot—the way he can make it go high and make me come whenever he wants—is hot. Just thinking about it makes my skin heat. If someone had told me that I would allow anyone to do this to me, I would’ve laughed in their face. But now…
Now, everything is different because I’ve met Elliot.
The memory abruptly chills me. We didn’t meet by chance. Mr. Grayson had something to do with it, no matter how small. I make a mental note to figure out what he ultimately wants, even though I have no idea how I’m going to do that at the moment. Later, I tell myself firmly. I don’t want to ruin our honeymoon by worrying about someone as sketchy as Mr. Grayson.
I freshen up with a quick shower and put on a light, white sleeveless sundress with an asymmetrical hemline, while Elliot takes a dip in the pool. The man does love to swim. I admire the easy way he pushes forward through the water, his muscles working beautifully together like a perfect set of gears. The visual is a superb turn-on, especially when combined with the crazy amount of control I’ve given him.
“Dinner’s ready in fifteen minutes,” I tell him, walking outside, my bare feet hitting the smooth wooden deck.
“I know.” He comes out of the pool, the water streaming down his sleek body in rivulets.
I sigh mentally. What wouldn’t I give to lick the droplets clinging to his taut, golden skin?
“If you keep giving me that ‘fuck me’ look, we won’t be eating.”
“A terrible fate.”
“But it would be.” He shoots me a wicked grin. “I plan to exhaust you, beautiful, and you gotta keep your strength up.”
I flush.
He laughs, then disappears into the door that leads to the master bathroom. It has a big glass shower with multiple heads and a huge separate sunken tub that can easily fit two adults.