in. Wes pulled the blankets off my head and did a ninja-like maneuver getting both of my hands locked over my head with one hand. He leaned down and kissed me, slow, wet, and so deep my toes curled. The space between my thighs started to heat and throb. Jesus, the man could kiss. He pulled the blanket further down and nudged at my nipples, first with his nose, then pulling one tip into his mouth, drawing from it.
“Now, this is how you wake a girl,” I said through a low moan.
He rewarded me with deep, penetrating suction from his mouth against my breast. “I’ll remember that next time. If I get you off, will you be in a better mood?” His tongue came out and flicked just the tip of my nipple while playing with it. The fingers of his other hand plucked and twisted my breast’s twin.
I nodded dumbly, too lost in the sensation that was building, a slow burn that made me weak and incapable of speech.
He chuckled against my breast. “If I put my mouth on you, give you the relief you seek, will you do what I say?”
It was impossible to deny him. With his mouth and fingers worshipping my tits, I couldn’t help but give him anything he asked. “Yes, God yes!” I moaned. His head moved from my breast down my ribs where he bit and nibbled, along the center of my abdomen, until he was there . Right there, giving me all that I wanted and more. Wes could have been a gold medalist in the art of cunnilingus. He knew exactly when to give, when to bite, nip, suck, lick. And he did it with finesse. .
Bite.
Nip.
Suck.
Lick.
Followed by a swirl and flattening his tongue as he rubbed around the center of my pleasure over and over until I broke. My body arched, hands flying into his hair to hold him against my wet flesh. He growled as he ate, lost in the moment as much as I was. Possibly even more by the way he plunged his cock into me.
We didn’t make it to the beach for another hour.
When we arrived, we were met by another man, a surf instructor named Amil.
“You brought me here so I could watch you guys surf?” I asked immediately after shaking the hand of Mr. Surftastic. My tone was not pleasant.
Wes looked at Amil, then at me, and grinned. His smirk was mischievous, and I knew in that moment that I was in for it.
“No, as a matter of fact, I brought you here because we are going to surf. Amil is going to help me show you the ropes. He also has all the equipment and ladies’ wetsuits. He runs the Surf Shack farther down the beach.” He pointed to a spot far off on the horizon.
I looked at Wes, his blond hair blowing in the chilly morning air. A sparkle in his green eyes made them look almost emerald in the early light of day. He was as sweet on the eyes as the heavenly waves hitting the beach.
“You’re serious then?”
He nodded and gestured to Amil. The instructor turned around, giving me an amazing view of his tanned muscled back, and pulled out a wetsuit that looked to be about my size. “Should fit. You’re what, five ten, a hundred and forty pounds?”
“Five nine, and didn’t your mother teach you that you don’t ever discuss weight with a woman?”
Amil shook his head and laughed. “Can’t say that she did.”
“She fell down on her job,” I said deadpan. “It’s rude, and women hate it. You married?” He shook his head. “Girlfriend?” He shook his head again, still grinning. “Case in point.” I clapped my hands together as if I’d just proven Einstein’s theory of relativity.
Wes laughed out loud beside me. “She’s right, dude,” Wes said. I was a little taken aback by his use of the very Californian word. Not that Wes wasn’t a cool guy, he was. Very much so. It’s just, he’s always had a bit of formality.
“Sorry Mia. My deepest apologies, but I wanted to make sure the suit would fit.” He handed me a black wetsuit.
After repeated attempts at getting myself into the impossibly tight wetsuit, which I dubbed my Cat Woman suit, we finally got the sucker on and in