Until the End of Time (7 page)

Crouching, he tugged them to the side revealing the
hard pearl of her clit as it puffed out from the now sticky lips of her sex,
pleading for attention. The scent of her combined with the cream glistening
against her flesh made his scrotum contract in need. He eased his thumb through
her labia and came away with enough to taste.

“I think this is what you wanted to tempt me into,
cara
.
Bending you over publicly and licking
your pussy.”

There was a low hiss of sound from her as her spine
dipped low and she went up on the balls of her feet. The request was wordless
and he preferred it otherwise.

“Ask,”
Sansone
murmured
against the back of her thigh, biting lightly. “Ask me to lick your pussy.”

Nyssa’s voice was husky and wanton. “
Sansone
…”

“Ask me nicely and I’ll do it. I know that’s what you
want, to come in my mouth.”

She shuddered and whispered something unintelligible.

“Unh-unh,” he grunted, biting her other thigh.
“Louder. So I can hear you.”

This time it came out between clenched teeth when she
said, “
Please
lick my pussy,
Sansone
.”

That was all he needed. With a growl, he grappled for
her hips and pulled them back further. He buried his face where he’d imagined
it residing most of the day. Fuck if the flavor of her wasn’t better than any
foreign delight this island had to offer. His palms filled with the generous
globes of her ass, gripping tightly as he shoved his tongue into her. Her hips
swayed and his cock jumped, seeking attention. He didn’t have the willpower to
pull away from touching her to stroke
himself
.

Her breaths quickened with the lap of his tongue and
he swirled it around her clit, sucking at the bud until a low, hoarse cry
filtered through the air.

“Sunny…”

He pulled her panties further over and rimmed her.
The slap of her hand meeting porcelain made his eyes cross. A curse left her
next and he refocused his attention on eating her. The second he snaked a hand
up her torso to pinch a nipple at the same time he sucked her nubbin back into
his mouth, she squealed and jerked, sending him to swallow every drop of honey
that welled and overflowed from her center.

Her breathing slowed and he stood, painfully aware of
his dick trying to make a break for it from behind his canvas shorts. He
winced, realizing that it would take a while for
this
particular hard on to disappear. Especially with her still
sprawled over the sink, a vision of wet dreams to come—no pun intended.

Nyssa righted herself after a moment, turning to face
him. Her shorts remained where they were; her eyes were wide and glazed. She
looked him over and stopped at his erection. “Is that a porpoise in your pocket
or are you happy to see me?”

Sansone
snorted and leaned
against the sea blue wall as he balled his hands at his sides. “What, exactly,
do you think?”

She reached forward, and before he could think to
stop her, unzipped him. His dick might as well have shouted “Hi-yah!” for all
the power it used to come bursting out.

“I
think
that God may have gotten you confused with a donkey when he made the placement
of sexual organs,” she answered.

He opened his mouth.

Nyssa’s hand wrapped around his
length through his briefs.
“Do
not.
Just take the compliment in silence.”

At the very least, allowing himself to smirk couldn’t
hurt. “You may want to tuck that back where you found it.”

She shook her head. “No, my idea is far better.”

He watched through hooded eyes as she released him,
only to delve her hand into her own underwear.
Sansone’s
nostrils flared at the sight and his next exhale was slow. Her hand reappeared,
covered in her come. It then disappeared into
his
underwear, grasping him skin-to-skin, warm with her juices. His
shoulders came up and slammed back into the wall.
“Cara.”

“Hush,” she voiced, unleashing him. Her hand caressed
heedless of the consequences and he stood there in a partial stupor. Nyssa’s
thumb circled the head lazily and she bent at the waist to follow the pattern
with her tongue. He closed his eyes to the sight, knowing that watching would
lead to him shooting his load without warning. The last time
that
happened, he’d been forced to learn
his wife’s hair care regimen before practicing it several times.

She stood to her full height and tipped up to take
his mouth, her hand moving faster against his cock. There was something about
the way Nyssa kissed when libido clouded reason. It was lusty and full and
filthy. He loved every moment of it.

She pulled her lips away to find his shoulder and
locked down right where he liked with her teeth. Her hand twisted slightly and
pulled his sex towards hers. She ran it through her pussy lips and being that
close to her heat was enough to make him spill himself with a groan. Nyssa
murmured contentedly when he stopped pulsing in her palm and pressed another
kiss to his mouth that made him stir again.

Releasing him, she reached for a paper towel and ran it
under hot water before handing it to him. She created another wipe for herself
and they went about making themselves presentable again without a word. There
were naughty grins exchanged as they snuck out of the bathroom and trotted down
the hall.
Sansone’s
hands played with whatever he
could reach and she batted him away laughingly. As they left, he suddenly had
the thought that Nyssa still hadn’t begged, but she’d given him satisfaction without
any alternative motive in her touch. They were getting somewhere.

“
Yo
, Sultana,
up for a swim?”

Nyssa watched her husband’s gaze drift slowly away
from the book in his hands, only to narrow on her from where he sat stretched
out beneath the canopy of their bed. “It’s midnight.”

She lifted her hands from the pockets of her robe.
“And?”

“
And
I’m
fairly certain there are a bevy of safety regulations against—oh.”
His book suddenly forgotten as it
tumbled onto the floor, he blinked at where her robe had landed after she’d
slid it from her shoulders. Its departure came with no more than a whisper as
the fabric settled around her ankles. “Oh my.”

Grinning now, she backed slowly away—naked as
the day she was born—and headed for the deck. A chuckle came next as she
turned to run, only to be caught in the band of strong arms and lifted from her
feet. Her husband charged headlong from the room and towards the deck. Nyssa
screamed the moment he dived over without releasing her. The water rushed up
and then she was weightless.

A few kicks saw her head above the gentle waves,
meeting the wide smile of
Sansone
from where he
floated on his back. She barked out another laugh. “If we tied a cloth napkin
to that, I think we could set sail and make it back to Tahiti without a problem
or ferry costs.”

His answer was a splash aimed at her face. She ducked
around it easily, turning over so she could follow his lazy pace. Closing her
eyes to the moon, Nyssa allowed herself a moment to drift out of reach. She was
going to miss this. The calmness she’d discovered here; a thing that she hadn’t
even known she was in need of until
Sansone
made it
so.
He’d
known. It didn’t matter the
origin of the idea. He could have paid it absolute dust and continued on.
Instead he’d made the effort to misplace her discomforts and doubts in paradise.
For that, she loved him more than words could express.

Nyssa wasn’t self-ignorant. She knew she was a
control freak of the highest order. She could be difficult and reclusive. She
could bury her issues, impatiently waiting for the day that they finally
resurfaced. And yet, he’d snatched the reins from her—despite her desire
to withhold them—and forced her into this incredible bubble of joy that
she couldn’t shake. The lack of worry from the outside world, it helped. It
simply, honestly helped. Here, she didn’t consider timetables or ovulation
cycles.

The fact that he’d requested a ban on all things baby
had stung initially. Then she’d slowly come to the realization as to why. Just as
he’d so wonderfully pointed out a few mornings ago, she thought too goddamn
much.
About everything and nothing at all.
That was
what had landed them in an eight-year friendship to begin with. Nyssa couldn’t
get her head out of her own ass. It had seemed to be an entirely too
comfortable place to rest it. As opposed to blurting out what she felt and
letting the chips fall, she’d hidden away, only to come forward in a
subconscious move that required liquid courage. All of this was a result of her
aversion to being open with her best friend.

The same best friend that had taken her on incredible
adventures over the last few days. After whale watching there had been paddle
boarding on the lagoon—completed with a picnic on the beach that ended in
extremely inappropriate behavior, almost getting them
fined
.
Following the next day was an ATV race where a wager had been made on some
pretty filthy promises. The fun continued with a trip to Belvedere Lookout
where Nyssa had found herself in the backseat of their mid-sized sedan of a
rental, straddling
Sansone
while he rocked her into a
shuddering orgasm.
That
was
frustrating considering how he still refused to give in and enter her.

She’d felt like a teenage virgin again; a rocket of
repressed sexual needs that couldn’t be met. A
Tiki
village
dinner and dance show led to one too many drinks—which led to Nyssa on
stage in a grass skirt with several others. Apparently with enough cocktails
she had no problem following tribal drumming while her spouse whistled from the
crowd and occasionally yelled, “Come back to my bungalow with me! My wife’s
into that!” To this she replied, “Will I be paid properly? To be honest, I
haven’t done a couple in a while and I’m a bit rusty.”

They really were absolutely insane. She adored that
about them. The comfort in being as ridiculous as she desired without an ounce
of judgment from her nut of a husband.
Hence her inspiration
to skinny dip at a crazy hour.
She’d grown restless with her own book
before deciding that yes, she
could
enjoy
something else senselessly pleasing. The last few days had been filled to the
brim with nothing but every silly activity they could complete and she’d never
been happier. It felt so good to just
be.
Sadly, she understood that inevitably they’d have to leave their utopia to
return to the mental pressure of everything they’d left behind. Including the
elephant that they hadn’t packed up to bring.

Fingertips lightly skated over her ribcage and she
opened her lids to find
Sansone
hovering by, diamonds
spattered over his lashes and in his hair. “Hi.”

Nyssa’s lips curved and she righted herself so that
her feet touched the sand beneath them. “Hi.”

He caught a thicket of her soaked twists to toss them
over her shoulder. “Want to tell me why you’ve suddenly gone Garden of Eden? My
complaints are nonexistent, mind you, mostly because I get to nourish this very
interesting daydream of you rescuing me from a shipwreck wearing nothing but a
string of pearls and a tail that disappears when you’re aroused.”

She released a sigh and brushed her hand against the
short length of his beard. “Have I told you today that you’re a strange,
strange
man?”

He rocked his head from side to side. “Meh…once or
twice.”

“Well consider this the third.”

“Are you saying that you
wouldn’t
be willing to look for a ginger colored wig to wear for
just a few—”

“No,” she cut in, looking beyond his shoulder when
his lips curved downward. “But only because I don’t think ginger is
my
particular hair ministry. I would,
however, be open to a lovely ash blond.”

He lifted her by the waist, nudging her knees to
either side of his hips as he walked them towards the deck. “The world would be
such a wondrous place if everyone had a wife made in your likeness.”

Nyssa snorted, throwing her arms around his shoulders
when he began to climb the ladder. “Would it?”

Sansone
stopped at the top
and quirked a brow down at her. “You dare doubt my heartfelt terms of
endearment?”

Her lips curved wanly and she focused on the hollow
of his throat. “Just a week ago you were ready to cattle
prod
me.”

With a grimace, he pulled them up and out onto the
deck, water dripping onto the hardwood. “
Cara—”

“You would have been well within your rights to,”
Nyssa interrupted, staring him in the eye. “I got a bit…enthusiastic.”

His hand curled around her hip. “I’m an incredible
specimen, of course you’re interested in seeing my legacy continue.”

She didn’t laugh. “I’m serious,
Sansone
.
It’s never,
ever,
been about my lack
of faith in you or my doubt that you’d love me whether we had one child or
filled the earth with them.”

“Normally I would ask you to call me Father Abraham
after a statement such as that but I sense you’re attempting to tell me
something,” he responded, sitting down on a lounger.

“I trust you,” Nyssa confessed, her hands on his face.
“You’re my best friend, my potty-mouthed knight with the incredible sense of
comedic timing that I attribute to your relationship with the devil.”

“Hey!”

She placed a hand over his mouth. “But you have to
consider that I haven’t always trusted myself. Sometimes I still don’t. At
least not until you pluck me and tell me to cut it out.” Removing her hand, she
pressed her forehead to his and whispered, “I’m my harshest critic.
A taskmaster without mercy.
And I hate the
thought,”—she stopped, swallowed—“I hate the thought that I could
accomplish so much in this life and go on without the one thing that I wasn’t
even sure I wanted until I was told that I possibly couldn’t have it.” Nyssa
blinked back the sudden and uncomfortable burn of tears. “It was never a
question as to whether or not
you
could love me through this and always
a
question as to whether or not
I
could
love me.”

He gazed at her for a stretch of time that seemed to
imitate hours and announced, “My God, I want to have
so
much sex with you right now.”

Nyssa slapped his shoulder. “
Sansone
!”

His kiss was hard and fast. “The
dirtiest
variety of sex.” Another kiss. “Because you talked to me.”
Another. “You talked to me and told me all your feels without me having to
spank you to get you to do it.”

She halted the next brush of his lips. “Spanking was
an option?”

“One I weighed the merits of more than once.”

Nyssa made a face. “And you didn’t use it
?!
”

“Don’t make me mental right now!” he bellowed. “Not
when I’m enjoying the distinct feeling of pride!”

“But—whoa!” She punched one of his thighs after
finding herself flipped around and turned over his literal knee. “Dammit,
Sunny!”

“You asked for the mighty blow of my godlike hand,
now you shall receive it!”

And once again, he ruined it.

***

“Beg me,”
Sansone
demanded against her mouth.

Nyssa rose above the hardness between her thighs, the
gentle wave of sudsy water rocking her into his torso as steam made a slow
climb towards the ceiling around them. A bath had been a necessity after their
late night adventures of sea frolicking, but this served more than just that
purpose. The reasoning naturally centered on their reluctance to disturb the
closeness they’d gained in the hub of activities they’d occupied themselves
with. Nyssa had admittedly thought her
dear,
sweet,
narcissistic husband was being ridiculous upon his proclamation that they
needed to find their footing in intimacy again. And now…well now she’d come to
the same conclusion he had—they’d lost
them
over the course of the last year.

There had been so much concern and worry about pregnancy
that their foundation had been thoroughly shaken. What would it matter to have
a baby if they couldn’t even communicate anymore? If they couldn’t take the
time to mend what had been fractured under a host of vulnerabilities? The
entirety of their desire to start a family rested on the love they shared, the
closeness. Somewhere along the way, she’d forgotten that. She
had
taken them for granted. There had
been
a disconnect
and Nyssa had treated her spouse
like a donor as opposed to her partner.

So if nothing else, she owed him a bit of groveling.
It didn’t have to be overdone or trite. Just enough to make him spread his
feathers and strut about.
 
Because
he’d done such an excellent job of showing her the error of her ways. And
despite what she’d shown him unintentionally, her fulfillment
did
lay within in his.

Her fingers filtered through the locks at his nape,
curling around the normally shorter strands. She tugged and popped her hips
atop his just enough to make him draw in a sharp breath. The contact of his
flesh, the warm rise and fall of his chest as he exhaled, caused Nyssa to stare
at him dazedly. She hadn’t realized how much she missed this, these moments;
the anticipation of having the wolf hover just outside of her door before he
came bursting in. That was sex with
Sansone
in a
nutshell. His touch was sin personified and she could never bring herself to
repent. Not when just the hypnotizing latch of his gaze was enough to send
cream rushing to the seat of her panties. It wasn’t his eyes alone, but the
possibilities they never ceased to hold when he cast them her way. It was
addictive.

She rolled her hips and rode his length, allowing it
to glide through the lips of her pussy. His hands grasped either side of the
tub in a white knuckled grip and his lips parted. Undulating now, her nipples
having turned into precious stones, she placed her palms against the width of
his shoulders and leaned forward.

Nyssa skimmed the tip of her nose over his and
murmured, “Please fuck me,
Sansone
.”

His knees bent behind her, cradling her where she set
astride him. “I’d like to hear that again, wife.”

She scraped her nails down his chest, flicking a
nipple and pulling. “
Please
fuck me,
Sansone
,” she repeated.

A splash sounded as he dropped his hands into the
water and clasped down on her buttocks, yanking her tightly against him. He dug
his fingertips lightly into either half and pulled her up. A quick lurch and
his cockhead was splitting the center of her sex at a pace that was entirely
too slow for her liking. It was the fullness of him that she needed. An ache
had built with every passing day, the core of her desiring to be stuffed with
every inch of that carnal thing she couldn’t recreate with the thrust of her
own fingers. She moved to take him deeper and he blocked her.

“Sunny…”

“Hush,” he told her in a sotto voice, his breath
warming her chin. “Just…feel me.”

Nyssa swallowed, trying and failing to calm the beat
of her heart.