Paradise Revival

  Not touching her last night had almost killed him. He'd worn grooves in his palms from gripping the arms of the chaise so tightly. He'd desperately wanted to squeeze his fingers against her lush hips and drive his cock into her soaked pussy. But he knew she wasn't ready for that. When she was ready, she'd let him know.

  Being forced to watch her slide her desire-swollen lips against his shaft had nearly made him come. But he held back, wanting it to be about her, not about him. And she'd certainly enjoyed it, evidenced by her juices all over him when she was done.

  When she'd thrown her head back and screamed, she'd looked as beautiful as he'd ever seen her. Her face and body flushed with passion, her nipples hard and pebbled, her hips bucking against him like she was fucking him, was a sight he'd love to preserve in a picture.

  And today was another work day, another day of following her along and asking lame reporter questions. Questions he was no longer interested in asking. He'd asked all the important ones last night, and was privileged that she had given him the answers.

  In a way he felt like he'd been given this great gift--the chance to pleasure a woman who'd long ago given up the thought of experiencing good sex with a man.

  Step by step, as patiently as he could, he'd teach her that sex with the right man could provide every pleasure she'd ever want.

  And then someday, when she was ready again, she'd find the right man to give her that kind of joy every day for the rest of her life.

  That man wouldn't be him. He was a vagabond, a traveler, not a beachcomber. He'd never be happy on this tiny island surrounded by nothing but miles of water. He'd go nuts.

  Even if the woman of his dreams lived here.

  Disgusted at his train of thought, he shook the water out of his eyes and grabbed a towel. Had to be lack of sleep making him think there was any such thing as 'the woman of his dreams'.

  He didn't have dreams of women, or 'the woman'. They were for sex, laughs and fun while he occupied space in whatever part of the world he happened to be working in.

  Home and family and marriage and permanence didn't fit his lifestyle. Whenever he moved on, he left no lingering feelings behind.

  And he wouldn't this time, either. He felt compelled to help Morgan rediscover her sexuality. After all, she'd trusted in him enough to tell him her secrets. But once that was done, he was outta here and off on the next assignment.

  With nice memories, of course.

  Morgan was sitting at the kitchen table near the window, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper. As usual, her hair was piled high on her head with a few curling tendrils escaping the sides. She wore another slinky sundress that never failed to wake up at least one part of his body.

  Shifting his semi-hard cock to the side of his shorts, he strolled into the kitchen. "Morning."

  Morgan looked up and smiled at him. "Morning. Sleep much?"

  After grabbing a cup of the streaming brew, he sat down beside her. "As much as you did."

  She looked different this morning. Her cheeks were rosy, her blue eyes as bright as the glint of sun off the ocean. Life energy poured from her.

  And Tony felt like he'd had some small part in that grin she wore.

  "Ready for another day?" she asked.

  "I'm ready for anything you throw at me."

  She arched a brow. "Anything?"

  "Uh huh. What's on your mind?" he asked, trying to keep his baser thoughts at bay.

  "You'll see."

  The smile stayed on her face the entire day. He liked that. Tony wanted to do whatever was necessary to keep it there.

  Today was pretty much the same as yesterday. He followed her routine, which he found to be pretty much business oriented. He talked to a few more staff members, who all gushed with praise about their boss.

  By the time the workday ended, ominous clouds had darkened the skies over the resort. It looked like they were going to be hit with a rainstorm. After listening to the weather reports, Morgan suggested they head back to her house before the road washed out.

  Fat drops of rain began to fall just as she pulled into the carport. They ran inside and the skies opened up. Sheets of rain slammed down relentlessly, streams of muddy water already forming around the house.

  Phoebe wound her furry self around his legs, seemingly taken with him for some unknown reason. He looked down to find the cat staring up at him, meowing, as if he was personally responsible for the lousy weather outside.

  "Don't look at me, girlie. I didn't do it."

  The cat sauntered off in a huff.

  Tony stepped out on the front porch and watched the rain. The humidity was high and he'd already taken off his shirt. Even though he wore only shorts, he wasn't any cooler. Morgan brought him a beer and he took a long, thirsty swallow, wiping away the perspiration from his forehead. It was hot. Sticky. Humid. They were completely isolated. The only sounds were the constant tapping of heavy rain on the roof.

  He was trapped in the middle of a driving rainstorm in the heated tropics, with a beautiful woman.

  Damn, life was good.

  "How long will it rain?" he asked her.

  "It depends. Storm's pretty big. Could last a day or so."

  He turned to her. "How do you get to work when it's like this?"

  She smiled. "I don't. Heavy rains like this wash out the road and I can't drive the cart to the resort. I could walk it, but it would take awhile. So unless there's a major crisis going on, the staff can handle anything that comes up."

  The thought of being marooned here with Morgan for two days brought a grin to his face. He could make some serious headway in her reintroduction to sex if he had access to her for forty-eight hours with no distractions.

  Except the damn cat who had taken a liking to him. It had returned from its short snit and once again circled around his ankles, purring. Annoyed with the tickling furball, he bent down and scooped it up and held it in his arms. Of course, then it purred all the more.

  "Phoebe likes you," Morgan said, her eyes wide.

  "Seems to. Is that a problem?"

  "No. It's just that she doesn't really like strangers. Just me."

  Tony puffed out his chest. "Smart cat. Obviously, she's an intelligent judge of character. Not to mention charm, great looks and potent sexuality." He stroked the cat's fur, rewarded with its kneading paws and drool. Great.

  Morgan laughed. "I'll take your word for it."

  "Are you sure you wouldn't rather find out for yourself?"

  Her blue eyes darkened like the rain-pummeled ocean. "Maybe."

  She leaned against a post and held her hands behind it. Visions of her tied to that post while he did anything he wanted with her sailed across his imagination. He just had to get her back to the point where she felt comfortable, and then he knew they could have some serious fun together.

  "Earlier this morning you said you had something in mind?" he asked, trying not to push things, but his cock had already sprung to life at the thought of Morgan tied up.

  She nodded. "If you're up to it."

  He put the cat down and ran his palm against his shaft through his shorts, slowly stroking its length. Morgan's gaze dipped and focused. Her pink tongue darted out and swept across her lips. Tony wanted to groan. He wanted her lips and tongue on the head of his cock before the night was through. "I'm up to anything, babe."

  "Even a little bondage?"

  Now she was talking. Had she read his mind? "Hell yeah."

  The corners of her mouth lifted in a small smile. "I doubt you're thinking about the bondage I have in mind."

  "Try me."

  "Oh, I plan to," she said, then pushed away from the post. "I'll be right back."

  After she'd stepped inside, Tony resisted the urge to jump up and down like a kid who'd just gotten his first bike. But damn he was excited about the prospect of making some sexual headway with Morgan. It was all he'd thought about today. Remembering their time together last night, her body glowing in the moonlight, the way she
rode his cock until she came, had kept him semi-hard the whole day.

  He shuddered and stroked himself again, anticipating what was to come.

  She stepped to the doorway and crooked her finger at him. He followed behind her more than willingly, watching the sexy sway of her hips, the silk of her dress caressing her ass just like he was dying to do.

  He entered her bedroom and smiled. She'd tied silk scarves to the four posts. His cock hammered against his shorts, seeking immediate escape.

  "I've been thinking about this all day," she said, her arm wrapped around the post at the foot of her bed, her hip leaning gently against the footboard.

  "Me too."

  "I figured the only way to get past my discomfort at having a man control me is for me to be in control. At least for awhile."

  It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out where she was headed. "You want to tie me to the bed?"

  She nodded. "If that's okay. I mean, if you don't want to you don't--"

  "I want to." He stepped in front of her, feeling the sexual vibrations sizzling between the two of them. "I have to be honest with you, Morgan. I'm dying to touch you and kiss you and lick you all over. I can't wait to crawl on top of you and plunge into your pussy."

  She licked her lips and nodded. "I want that, too."

  He lifted a tendril of silken hair and let it slide through his fingertips. "But I'm also a very patient man. I can wait for it. You take this at your own pace, tell me what works and doesn't work for you. Do whatever it takes to give yourself pleasure and make you feel comfortable. You control it."

  Morgan's body heated at Tony's words. She found it hard to believe that a man like him existed. Such patience, such restraint, and so full of potent sexuality.

  A man like him should frighten her, but he didn't. She still didn't understand the whys of it, but for some reason she did trust him. And trusting him made her want him.

  "Tell me what you want," he said, his body hovering so close his warm breath caressed her face. She inhaled the male fragrance of him, a powerful aphrodisiac. She wanted to lick the fine sheen of sweat off his neck and shoulders, then work her way down his body with her tongue.

  No, not wanted. She would do these things. She could, as soon as she had him secured. "Lie down on the bed. Naked."

  His dark eyes narrowed, his breathing increased. He stood in front of her and reached for the waistband of his shorts, sliding them over his hips until they fell to the floor. His huge cock sprung out at her and she ached to drop to her knees right there and suck him.

  But that would put her at his mercy, and she wasn't quite ready, yet. Instead, she waited while he walked around the side of the bed and climbed in, lying down on his back and spreading his arms and legs.

  And there he was, completely open and fully trusting her. Something she hadn't been able to do in years. Of course she'd never hurt him before. Then again, he hadn't hurt her, either. And that's when the door to her heart opened, letting him take a peek inside. It was all she could do right now, but it was a momentous change for her. A risk worth taking.

  All men weren't like David. The logical part of her mind knew that, and yet a part of her was still afraid.

  Give in. Trust him. It's time, Morgan, it's time to live again.

  She'd ignored that voice inside her head long enough. Just watching him now, lying there waiting for her to tie him up, cut through the last of her fear. Her distress turned to desire and all hesitation fled.

  Her legs wobbled and she stood at the foot of the bed, looking her fill of him. Everything about him was big. Shoulders, arms, legs, and especially his thick shaft and balls. She shuddered thinking of him filling her, pumping his shaft into her. By making love with her, he'd aid in making her a whole person again. A real woman again. She hurried over to each post, securely binding his arms and legs until he was completely immobile.

  All the time he watched her, his eyes devouring her, making her nipples stand up and fight against the silk binding them. She ached for his mouth on her, and tonight she'd have it.

  "You gonna stand there and look at me all night, or are you gonna climb on top and have your way with me?" His voice was husky with passion, his lips curled in a wicked grin.

  She smiled at him. "I'm going to get naked while you watch. Then I'm going to do whatever I want with you."

  He looked impatient, but not in a frightening way. No, she rather enjoyed the fact that he wanted her. His body strained against the bonds, his hips rising and falling. "Get on with it then. I want you to touch me. I want your body all over me."

  Barely able to make her shaky hands work, she fumbled with the ties on her dress, finally loosening them and letting the dress fall to the floor.

  "You're beautiful." His whisper echoed in the quiet room, making her aware of herself in a way she hadn't been for years. She looked down at her body, unable to believe he thought her beautiful. She'd thought herself ugly and disfigured for so long.

  She shook her head, not believing him, not wanting to believe him. She wasn't beautiful, she was scarred. Inside and out. She hesitated, watching him.

  "You are beautiful," he said again. "Those scars on your back are nothing. The only one who finds them ugly is you. Now come here and work your magic on me. I need to come, Morgan. I need you to make me come because I can't do it myself."

  Hesitating no longer, she approached the bed and climbed on, starting out by sitting next to him, her hip barely touching his.

  She reached a tentative hand out and stroked his bare shoulder, trailing her fingertips along his collarbone and down his chest to circle his dark nipples. They hardened under her fingertips. Her own nipples followed suit, aching for his mouth, his fingers.

  Slowly, she touched him everywhere, careful to avoid his erection. She wanted to draw out the moment, having this freedom to enjoy touching a man's body again without fear. Had she ever really known what that was like? David had been an act--everything about him, even at the beginning. He'd set her up and then used her desires against her. She'd never once been in control.

  Now she was. And she loved Tony's reactions to her touch. When she found a sensitive area he'd suck in his breath, his body tensing under her hands. Tony had a lot of erogenous zones. His nipples, definitely. But also the backs of his knees, his upper thighs, and under his arms. His erection seemed to grow every time she touched a particular area. Come glistened on the tip of his penis, calling to her, begging for her hand or mouth to sweep it away.

  But still, she waited, wanting to prolong his pleasure, and her own.

  She'd waited three years for this moment. Hell, she'd waited twenty-seven years for it.

  "Do you like the way I touch you?" she asked, looking into his eyes, so dark they were almost black.

  "Yes," he said, his voice tight and raspy.

  "Do you want me to touch your cock, Tony?" Her hands hovered near his thighs, her nails lightly scraping against his skin.

  "Yes, dammit. Touch it."

  She reveled in the control he'd given her. It both humbled and thrilled her. But she'd tortured both of them long enough. Now it was time to get serious. Her body was afire with the need to lie skin to skin with him. Her thighs were soaked with her own juices, just like they'd been last night when she'd ridden his shaft until she came.

  Soon she'd come again. And so would he.

  "You make me hot, Tony," she admitted, wanting him to know what he'd done for her. "Hotter than I've ever been before. So hot I could come in seconds if I touched myself."

  He panted, hard, but didn't speak.

  "But I won't. You're going to make me come, and more than once. And I'm going to make you come so hard you scream."

  "Do it," he said.

  Thunder rumbled long and low outside, the skies almost black. The wind howled, the trees lashing against the side of the house.

  Outside the storm was violent.

  Inside, the maelstrom was just beginning.

  She straddled him and l
eaned over, touching her lips lightly to his. He opened his mouth and she descended on him, her tongue eagerly entering and twining with his. It was hot, passionate and nearly overwhelming. He tasted sweet and salty and she wanted to devour every inch of him.

  Trailing kisses down his neck and over his shoulder, she found a well-muscled spot and bit lightly, her body shuddering at his low growl. She sensed the barely leashed control of an animal, and loved that she brought out such passion in him.

  She scooted lower, tangling her fingers in the crisp, curling hair of his chest. He gasped when her tongue circled an erect nipple and she drew it into her mouth to lightly suck on it.

  "Christ!" he bit out through clenched teeth, and she looked up at him and smiled.

  She moved down his body, rubbing her cheek against the fine down of fur on his lower belly. Raking her nails over his ribs and abdomen, she was thrilled by the feel of his shuddering as her mouth drew closer to his pulsing shaft.

  Pausing, she met his hot gaze, licking her lips in anticipation of what was to come.

  He flexed his hips, his erection stroking her cheek, and still she waited. Waited for him to lose control. It didn't take long, especially when she stroked his inner thigh with her tongue.

  "Suck me, goddamit!" he commanded.

  Morgan's pussy flooded with liquid heat at his words. She turned her head, keeping her eyes fixed on his, and lightly licked the salty drops of fluid from the tip of his penis.

  Tony groaned and pulled at the bonds at his wrists.

  "You taste salty, like your skin," she said, taking a couple more swipes of the swollen head with her tongue.

  "Suck it, Morgan," he said again. "Wrap your mouth around my cock and suck. Hard."

  "Your wish is my command." She took his shaft in her mouth.

  Chapter Eight

  Tony grit his teeth and fisted the sheets with his hands, desperately wanting to loosen the knotted scarves around his wrist. He wanted to bury his hands in Morgan's hair and move her head over his aching cock. He wanted to cup her breasts, rub his fingers over her nipples, slide his hands through the red curls between her legs and sample the wetness pouring from her.

  Mostly he just wanted to touch her--everywhere.

  Her mouth was made for pleasuring him. Watching the erotic play of her long tongue over the throbbing head of his shaft had him nearly losing it and coming all over her beautiful face. Through sheer force of will he held back, not wanting this erotic torture to end too soon.