Angelic

My reflexes kicked into high gear. The next thing I realized was that I had him pinned to the floor of the lighthouse. One wrong move and I could shatter his wrist. My knee was pressed into his chest. I had no idea how he was able to breathe.

How did I explain this without going into too much detail?

I was in a romantic lighthouse staring at the sunset with the world's most notorious womanizer and instead of reacting like the kind of woman he was used to, I reacted like the soldier I was trained to be.

He should be furious at my response at his attempts at flirting, but he wasn’t. He looked aroused, actually. From the bulge in his well-fitting trousers, I would say, he was very aroused.

Did Mr. Naile enjoy being dominated by a woman? Had anyone ever tried before now? It wasn't like I was looking to take control of the situation, it just happened. His sultry lips curled into a slight smile, his piercing blue eyes silently laughing at me.

I should have been upset with what he did, but I wasn’t. His reaction to my reaction of him was affecting my common sense. I released his wrist calmly so he didn’t attempt to jerk it away, causing more harm. Then I slowly removed my knee.

I offered my hand to help him to his feet.

Instead, he pulled me down onto his lap, his cock pressing against my ass. He pulled off my baseball cap and ran his fingers through my hair and claimed my mouth in one swift stealth motion.

I let him.

I didn't just let him, I encouraged him. I opened my lips and let him plunder and steal what he wanted from me. I wanted the same. I let my hand wander up his shirt. I was right, his abs were rock hard under my hands and my melting core spilled over into my underwear.

I wanted to strip him bare and ride him like no woman had ever done to him before. I wanted to dominate him. I wanted to be on top. I wanted to come out on top.

I barely gave him time to breathe. If he began to remember, I may never get what I wanted from him. What I had wanted from him since that day in the park all those years ago.

I felt his body clenching. It was subtle, but it was there. He was beginning to remember. How could he not? The electricity between us could light up the entire island. The intensity of his kisses subsided.

He was gentler, loving. He looked into my eyes as I stared into his. I was looking for some sort of clue as to what he was thinking, what he was remembering.

“Angel.” The name fell from his lips like it did those many years ago.

I needed him to want me more than he wanted the answer to why he called me Angel. He was Jackson Naile. I knew the one thing I could offer him that would make him forget he wanted an answer for the question in his eyes.

At least for a short while.

I pulled away and reached for my gear and headed to the stairs. He was still sitting on the floor waiting for an answer to a question he had not asked. He would ask, eventually. I turned around to find him confused by what I was doing. I gave him a coy smile.

“Do you want to talk, or do you want to fuck?”

I heard him lift himself from the floor. He was faster than I could ever be. His long legs would catch up to me before I could get to the bottom. I had excellent balance, and propped my butt on the thin railing and slid to the bottom before he could catch up with me.

I made it to the door before I felt his strong arms lift me and hold me to his chest. He raises my chin to meet his eyes. “What if I want to talk?”

“What if I don’t?” I kept him focused on the heat rising between us. I kissed him feverishly.

“I guess one of us isn’t going to get what they want.” His eyes were full of lust, desire and fire.

I didn’t give in, didn’t waiver, while keeping him occupied with my lips.

“Like I always say,” he growled, “ladies first.”

He picked me up and carried me to the inn. He set me down in the entry as he kicked off his muddy shoes. I followed suit and threw mine to the side. I barely had time to think and he was carrying me up the stairs and to the last bedroom on the left.

His bedroom.

We tore at each other’s clothes, hardly able to wait to get each other naked. My sweats peeled away, revealing a sports bra and boy shorts. Not the sexy underwear I was sure he was used to. I should have blushed, but that wasn’t who I was. I did not plan for this tonight. I planed for it Saturday night, after the wedding.

That was when the singles did the traditional after wedding hookups. I planned on wearing a sexy black lace bustier and matching thong under a low cut sexy blue dress I bought for the occasion. I bought them the minute I knew that the PR firm representing the opening was one that belong to none other than Mr. Jackson Naile.

Too late for regrets now. I was finally getting nailed by Jackson Naile. Who cared if my one night stand was now or later? I was getting what I came for, beside the nice payout for being the exclusive wedding photographer to the wedding of the century once the world read about it in the papers.

My need for him was so great I didn’t care about foreplay. I was impatient and I knew he sensed it. If I didn't slow down, he was going to want to stop and make me explain. I couldn't have that, not when I was so close to getting what I had fantasized about for far too long.

His body was a fucking shrine and I wanted to worship it. I wanted to run my tongue over every inch of it. To trace and memorize every line of his tattooed chest, shoulder and arms. Did they ran all way to his back.

I yearned for his tight muscular arms cradle me. I wanted to wrap my legs around his lean torso and push his massive cock to my center.

I knew I was beyond wet; I was downright drenched. I could take him in easily. He stood above me and scanned my body, the same way I did to his. He was smiling, he liked what he saw.

I had been told I had too many muscles for a woman, that I lack the femininity of the weak females who let men do all the work.

I planned on contributing to this encounter in all the ways he planned to.

No words had been spoken since we left the lighthouse. Our mouths had not been off each other long enough for any. There had been sounds—loud panting, moaning, grunting—but no words.

He ran his tongue down my neck, past my cleavage, across my belly button and then with his strong soft hands, he gently opened my legs. I let them fall to the side and propped myself up on my elbows. I wanted to see his face while he fucked me with his tongue. I wanted him to see mine. To see the pleasure he was giving me with his masterful mouth.

He raised his head to look me directly in the eye. “Like I said, ladies first.”

His thumb began circling my clit and I clutched onto the comforter and whimpered. I was not going to be bashful about what he was doing to me. We were the only two people on this side of the island and I could scream as loud as I pleased.

“I heard the trick to a great orgasm is to trace the alphabet with my tongue over your clit and spell your name until you come and scream mine. I want you to scream my name, Angel.”

I didn’t know where he learned to do that thing with the alphabet, but he was right. I screamed his name. I screamed to God. I screamed to heaven and hell when he took me over the edge with an orgasm that I could only describe as colossal.

I wanted to see the expression on his face when I went over. I wasn’t expecting the total loss of control of my body. It took several minutes for the fireworks to disintegrate behind my closed lids. They fluttered opened to see him propped above me, watching, waiting for me to return.

That was not my first orgasm, or so I had been led to believe. If this was any indication of what I have been missing, why did I wait so long? I should have gone to him sooner. Let him fulfill this yearning, this need that I had tried to let others take care of. If I’d had a true orgasm before, then I knew, I would never have one as surreal as this with anyone else except him ever again.

With a sheepish grin that made the rest of my body turn to jelly, he leaned in and rasped in my ear, “Did you like that, Angel?”

He called me Angel. Was he being cute, using a shorter version of my name, or had he remembered and was toying with me?

Was this all I was going to get from Mr. Jackson Naile?