Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I have to reach forward to brace a hand on the wall in fear that I’m about to pass out.
My other hand finds her ponytail and I take it roughly, using it as a guide to up her pace as she sucks me to my release.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Delia
I almost scream when he appears in front of me. It’s like the most beautiful beast in the world emerging from the mist.
In my case Donovan is the beast and the mist is the steam from the shower I’m having.
I finally relented to what my body had been craving for hours and ducked into the bathroom in his stateroom to have a shower.
He suggested a bath since the tub is large enough to accommodate both of us, but I didn’t want to devote my time to that right now.
It’s nearing sunset and he promised me more orgasms and a meal I’ll never forget.
“I want to rinse off,” he tells me, gathering me into his strong arms.
He’s much larger than I am but in the very best way. I don’t feel small compared to him. I feel protected and cherished whenever he wraps himself around me as he’s doing now.
“I’ll soap you up,” I offer.
“You’ll make me hard.” He laughs even though he’s almost there now. “Shower, dinner and another chapter before I fuck you again.”
“You’re a man with a solid plan.” I glide my hands over his chest to his broad shoulders and down his biceps. “I like that.”
“My plan fits with yours?” he asks. “You don’t want to change the order or anything?”
I drop a hand to my core. “My pussy appreciates the momentary break in activity.”
“It would appreciate some tender loving care courtesy of my tongue.” He demonstrates by sliding his tongue slowly over his bottom lip.
“That is my dessert.” I inch up to my tiptoes to kiss him softly.
“I ordered cheesecake, a brownie, and a bowl of ice cream, but I’m all for eating pussy instead.”
“My pussy,” I amend that. “Just mine.”
“Just yours,” he agrees with a sly smile.
I want the word forever to fall from his lips but that’s a dream. It can’t be my reality. I’m not strong enough to survive another broken heart, and I can’t let Matthew’s future become collateral damage because of a poor choice on my part.
This is a vacation fling. It’s the vacation fling of a lifetime but that’s all it is and can ever be.
We hold gazes until I break it with a small request. “Will you sit on the bench so I can wash your hair?”
He glances back at the seat built into this large walk-in shower. It’s covered from floor to ceiling in white marble with gray veins running through it. “Of course I will.”
He sits his bare ass down, his hand dropping to his erection. He palms it lightly.
It takes all of my effort to ignore that. I squirt two pumps of shampoo into my palm from a bottle sitting on a shelf in the corner. I rub my hands together before I step between his legs and get to work.
He moves his hands so they’re resting on my hips. “I could get used to this, Delia.”
“So could I,” I say to myself, not wanting him to know how I truly feel.
He hums in approval with his eyes closed as I massage his scalp while I stare at his face.
“You’re perfect,” I mouth the words without any sound escaping me.
He is perfect and I’m going to enjoy that perfection until I go back to the life I’ve chosen for myself. A life that leaves no room for love or anything that comes with that.
“Shrimp scampi?” I laugh. “I love this.”
“I know.” Donovan grabs the corner of one of the linen napkins off the room service cart. He snaps it in the air before placing it over my lap.
Since I took the time to pack a few things in my tote bag when I visited my cabin earlier, I’m wearing a dark blue strapless sundress now and a pair of lace panties.
I have another extra change of clothes in case I spend the night here again.
“There’s risotto, too.” He lifts the lid on another silver cloche to reveal a big bowl filled with what smells like divine risotto.
“I must have posted on social media about my favorite dinner at some point.”
It’s more a statement than a question, but Donovan responds with a nod. “You were at Calvetti’s with your brother.”
“Callum,” I say with confidence since I remember the visit well.
I posted an image of the food on our table, which included a bowl of risotto, eggplant parmesan and a small dish of shrimp scampi that the owner, Martina Calevtti, insisted I try.
“You are a grade A stalker, Dr. Hunt.”
“I aim to be the best at everything I do.” He smiles. “Eat, Delia.”