Becca
Slowly, I came to. I was bundled in a big cotton duvet, wrapped like a hot dog in front of a fire. What was going on? I could feel the balmy Caribbean breeze against my skin, the climate humid and warm, but it was still cold, as if a deep freeze had entered the core of my being, my hands and feet only just beginning to thaw.
Suddenly, it all came rushing back. I’d tried to escape from the island, but the attempt had been ill-fated. Dominic must have rescued me, and when the door banged open, revealing his huge frame, I opened my mouth to thank him.
But he was having none of it. Before I could say a word, the big man strode over and ripped off the blanket. I was nude underneath and scrambled futilely to cover my breasts, a hot flush coming over my face despite the fact that my limbs were still chilly.
“Bitch!” he exclaimed, looking at me with murderous rage in his eyes. “Bitch!” he raged again.
“I can explain,” I said, trying to cover myself.
But he was having none of it. Instead, he began undoing his belt, tearing open his shirt to reveal a brawny, muscled chest.
“Bitch, you have no idea what you put me through,” he roared, ripping his shirt in his haste to get it off. He was all bronze skin, defined abs and rippling, muscular biceps. His pants were off in a flash and I was faced with the sight of angry, aroused male.
“Dominic,” I said soothingly. “Let me explain.”
But it didn’t matter. He was on me in a flash, his big bulk covering my body like a living blanket, pressing me deeply into the mattress. Despite my brush with death, I felt curiously alive as he bit my breast, his teeth leaving red, angry welts against my skin.
“Bitch!” he managed again, before shoving two fingers into my cunt.
I cried out in agony. Although my body was recovering, I certainly wasn’t over the hypothermia, and the digits in my pussy were unrelenting and rough. He ignored my pleas for mercy and began thrusting them in and out, riding me hard with his hand.
And against my will, my body started warming, molding itself to his movements, curving to that hard, unyielding bulk. I felt myself melting against his mass, my softness cushioning his angles, and I mewled slightly, moaning into his mouth.
He ravaged my lips, his tongue thrusting deeply into me, too rough to be called a kiss, but something deep, sensuous and animalistic instead. He was all over me in every way, his fingers in my pussy, his cock rubbing my thighs, his mouth on my face and neck, angrily biting even as he covered me with his lips.
And I responded. The near-death experience had touched a deep need to feel alive, and with this man would come a type of fulfillment, an encounter with the stars that was a once in a lifetime experience. Hungrily, I embraced him, just as determined to create heat and space and energy through the physical, the act as sacred and original as the first time between Adam and Eve.
Moving over me, he positioned his cock between my spread legs, and I cried out with pure, unadulterated pleasure as he thrust into me. Evidently it was just as mind-blowing for him because he let out a roar of “Becca!” into my mouth before beginning a deep, powerful thrust into my body.
It tore me apart, those waves of pleasure, like riding the rockiest seas yet knowing I was safe and cared for. His body was like a wave above me, undulating, pure masculine beauty in the stretch of his muscles, the rhythm of the earth. As we crested together, a heat built in my lower body, slowly rising, Dominic stoking it expertly even as he lost control of his own.
“Becca!” he roared again, coming deeply in me, his life force exploding into my womb. It felt so good that I began to cry even as my body seized around him, holding him tight, safely ensconced in my warmth. He shuddered again and again, burying his face in the crook between my face and neck as he found his release, warm spurts coating my inner self, bringing me alive and resonating with the most sensuous pleasure.
And I felt completely at ease despite the tears on my cheeks, despite the rough way in which this lovemaking had begun. Dominic and I had done what was natural to survivors, engaging in the act of love to remind ourselves that we were human and filled with vibrant, essential life.
I stroked his back as his breathing calmed, his chest pressing insistently against my breasts. But I smiled sadly to myself. Although Dominic didn’t know it, we’d already created a small life, and our passion only served to remind me that he could never know.