Chapter 7

7

F rustration and desire slam into me with the same force the waves are slamming into the boat. I'm as riled and torn up with chaos as the ocean. She has no idea what she's asking of me. I don't think she gets it at all. Since the moment she jumped into that marina to "rescue" me, my every waking thought has been about her.

I watch her. I listen as she moves around and plays guitar and sings. Especially when she sings because she sounds like a fucking angel. And when all that's done, I fall asleep thinking about her. Dreaming about her. It's torture. A punishment I can't escape. One I don't understand either. I had zero fucks to give where Tinsley Monroe was concerned for years and years, decades and decades. A few days on my boat, a couple of back and forths, a few flashes of skin, a couple of songs, and I've become infatuated like a schoolboy.

I hate it.

I can't fucking stand it.

Tinsley Monroe is a plague occupying my every breath, and I don't know how to stop it.

She's been holding to her word since we set sail. Clothes have been on, and distance has been maintained.

It doesn't matter.

I'm here to get myself together and my head on straight, and touching her feels like falling off a cliff. But hell, do I want to take that freefall? Still…

"You're not mine to touch."

She huffs. "I'm not his either." She pulls away from me, and I already miss the feel of her hair and the warmth of her body against my skin. "You know what? You're probably right. It was a bad idea. Honestly, I'm good. Go back to making sure we survive the night and I'll rub my little nub and put myself to sleep."

And that's it. I don't know why, and I don't even know how it happens, but suddenly I'm throwing the blankets off the bed and crawling between her goddamn legs. She gasps, propping herself up with her elbows until she's half sitting up. Wide eyes stare down at me as if she too doesn't know what to make of me in my new position.

"Show me," I grit through clenched teeth.

"Show you?" Her eyebrows hit her hairline, her hair all over the goddamn place, and I want to do so many unholy things to her it's ridiculous.

"I won't touch you. I can't fucking touch you. So show me how you like to be touched. Show me all that I'm missing by keeping my hands, mouth, and cock to myself. Show me how you touch yourself until you come."

She barks out an are you crazy laugh, and I might be. I seriously might be. Because she's wearing my shirt, and I can smell her, and she smells so fucking good I can hardly stand to be here and not touch her or rip her panties off and shove my tongue and nose in her cunt. And she's so goddamn pretty, even more so when she fucks with me the way she is now, and heaven help me, I like her fucking with me .

She's frozen, doing long, slow blinks at me, still unsure what to make of my demand. Lightning flashes, illuminating her for a split second, and then thunder booms like an explosion, but the boom comes a few seconds later than the last one did. We're sailing away from the storm.

"I get it," I toy. "You're all bark and no bite. Are you afraid of the challenge or do you not know how to make yourself come?"

That snaps her out of her stunned stupor, and she laughs. "Do I know how to make myself come? Honey, I'm a master at personal orgasms. I just get a little bored of them after a while. It's why I was hoping for a hand—literally—in helping me out. But if you're not man enough or don't know how it's done"—her head tilts, her expression growing mocking—"then take my underwear off, and I'll show you how to pleasure a woman."

This fucking girl. I could make her come in under two minutes. She'd be ripping at my hair with her back arched, and her head thrown back and my name screamed as a battle cry against the storm.

I like this Tinsley. This fierce, confident, sexually alive woman. It's fucking hot. It's goddamn sexy as hell. And right now, I want nothing more than to watch her touch herself with my face right between her legs as she does.

"If that's what you think I need." I let that end there and hook my fingers into the sides of her thong and slide it down her long, creamy thighs. She lifts her legs in the air and takes over for me so the underwear can make its escape, and holy fuck this view. This motherfucking view. I'm dead. Gone. Will never be the same.

I'm salivating, desperate to put my mouth straight on her pretty pussy and eat her all night long. Holy hell . This was supposed to be calling her bluff, but clearly the joke's on me. I've never been this hard in my life. Certainly never wanted a woman as badly as I want her .

"Oh." She smirks tauntingly down at me from between her spread thighs. "Did you think I'd falter?"

It's so funny. I've been with a lot of women. All different kinds of women. And I always felt like the one in charge. The man who ran the show and drew all the lines. Tinsley is running the show and drawing all the lines.

And yet…

"Shut up, Tinsley and touch your clit. Rub it hard and fast and show me you can make yourself come faster than I could. If you go past two minutes, you'll get my fingers. If you go past four, you'll get my tongue, but I'm not promising pleasure from either source. And now would be a fantastic time to call me sir."

I smack her pussy when she doesn't move, but fucking hell do I feel it quiver against my fingers, its wetness coating them.

"You've got one minute and forty seconds."

She licks her lips and her hand slips between her spread thighs that my face is all but inches from. Soft fingers circle her wet opening and then drag up to her clit. I scoot forward.

"That's it, my Little Rose. Does it feel good?"

"Pretty good. How does it taste? Sir . Or are you simply there for the front-row show?"

I smile. It's like the sunrise after the shitshow outside our windows.

"The show is already more than I should be indulging in."

"What are you afraid will happen? You'll like how I feel more than you should?" Her words mimic mine from when I first carried her soaking wet body down to the shower.

My answer is simple. "Yes. I shouldn't like the view, and I shouldn't want to touch you as much as I do."

She huffs. "Sucks to be you and your hardline stance then."

Her fingers ring and rub her clit, swirling around and around while they increase their pace. Her hips roll up into her hand, grinding, undulating, setting a rhythm as she fucks herself that is nothing short of hypnotic. Every second she draws closer, her pussy gets that much wetter, and I grow closer to losing my absolute mind.

"Still afraid to put your money where your mouth is?" she pants, and my hands ball up the sheets, gripping them so tightly my knuckles crack. I lick my lips, and my willpower is shot. Nonexistent. A haze of lust and a burning desire for the woman who isn't mine cloud my thoughts and better sense, but I want her. I want her so badly.

"You want me to take a taste?"

Her head is back, and her neck is arched as I imagined it would be as she continues to work her clit. No one has ever touched themselves the way she's touching herself in front of me. Not ever. They're shy. They're self-conscious. They're scared. Tinsley is all fucking in and wanting more. Including me.

"Yes." Her hand snakes through the back of my hair and she tugs me. "I want you to take a taste. Even if it's not for either of our pleasure, even though I think that threat was bullshit. I don't think you could handle tasting me and not wanting me to moan and writhe for you. All for you. Sir ."

My hands are somehow on her inner thighs, and I'm spreading her wider until she's fully open and fucking gorgeous for me. Because she's right. I can't handle not making her moan for me. I can't handle not giving her all the pleasure I'm dying to give.

She also said she doesn't want to be a good girl anymore. I can help with that.

"Little rose, you are so messy and so very, very wet. My bad girl, you're dripping on my bed. Now I have to clean it up, but I will punish you for that."

I dip in and start to lick it up, the drip of her pussy gliding along the inner angle of her ass cheek. She squeals and hikes up her hips to try to push me away, but I hold her down and lick and taste and fucking devour.

God. Hell .

I bite her inner thigh in warning. "You wanted me to taste you. That's what I'm doing. If you pull away from me again, I won't let you come. I'll tie your wrists so your fingers can't reach and keep your legs spread so they can't rub together, and I'll edge you all fucking night long."

Her eyes flash open and her chin shoots down but here is something she doesn't know about me. I'm not kidding about this. I'd love nothing more than to tie her up and bring her to the brink over and over again until she can't take another second. I'd own her. Have her begging me.

"Time's up. You didn't come. I guess that puts me in charge now."

Her bottom lip catches between her teeth. "Stone."

I grin like the devil as I use the pad of my tongue to lick up her pussy without giving any pressure to her clit. "Yes, baby girl? Is there something you need?"

She's panting. Watching. Nervous. "I… um…"

"Yes?" I ring her opening with my finger but stay away from her clit and I don't slip inside her either. I'm toying with her. Angry that she got me here. Furious that I'm touching her because I can't help myself. Hateful for what kind of man and brother this makes me that I can't stay away from the one girl who is eternally off-limits to me.

I should punish her for all those things.

If she hadn't made me want her so badly, this never would have happened.

I take her clit into my mouth and suck it hard, two fingers plunging straight in and immediately finding her front wall.

"Oh, god." She throws her head back, and her hips buck up against my mouth. "Yes. That. God, just like that."

I release her clit with a wet pop and pull my fingers back, toying with her once more. I blow cool air on her. Lick up her pussy. And repeat the motion. Lick. Suck. Pump. Then draw back the moment she gets close.

"Christ, you're a sadist."

I smirk. "Not usually. But right now, I'm having a lot of fun making you desperate."

She tries to drag me in again with her hand in my hair, but I hold firm. "I swear, I will kill you if you don't make me come. Seriously, I'll toss you overboard into the storm."

I chuckle against her, the vibrations making her moan. "Beg me."

"What?"

"You heard me. Beg me to make you come, and I'll give you the best orgasm of your life. But you have to mean it. And I want you to call me sir. Because when I have you like this, I own every inch of your body. It's mine. Mine to do with as I please because you belong to me."

"Oh." She writhes but doesn't immediately respond. She's thinking that through, weighing her pride versus her desire. I'm not a big one for humiliation, but the thought of her sweet voice begging me makes my cock throb. "Please make me come, sir."

When she calls me sir, she gets so wet. Her body twists as if she's about to come from saying those words alone. And when I plunge two fingers back inside her, her pussy convulses and squeezes me like a fist.

I start a slow pump. Nowhere near what she needs, and I still stay away from her pulsing clit.

"Stone. Sir . I begged you. Now hold up your end of the bargain. Please ," she tacks on, panting. Her hips bounce. Her body convulses. "Actually, fuck this. I don't need you to make me come." Her hand comes back, and she starts to rub her clit again. I smile. So impatient, she has no idea what I was about to give her. "If you want to know what I taste like when I come, put your tongue inside me now because… I… oh! Yes! That."

I lick her clit, helping her fingers along while fucking her with my own until she starts come all over me. In the past, before I ever touched a woman, they knew all my rules. One night. No strings. Just fun. They could say yes or no. That was their choice, and I was fine either way, but the rules were finite, and rarely did I make exceptions for a repeat.

All this felt so important before. Like the boundary between me and the woman. Not just physically, but emotionally.

But I want Tinsley to cross all my lines. I want her to deconstruct my boundaries.

I want Tinsley. Plain. Simple. Wholly.

I'm in awe of her. The fact that she did what she did to get here. That she's taking her life and her mental health into her own hands. I like her defiance, her strong, willful spirit, and her impudent mouth. I like her voice and laugh and the way she looks at me like she wants me—and not because I'm Stone Fritz the way ninety-nine percent of every other woman I've been with does.

Simply put, I like every fucking thing about her.

It's not even that she's easily the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. It's not even that she's strong yet vulnerable in the same breath. It's that she's unafraid to be who she is whereas that's the thing I'm most afraid of being.

Being myself is what's failed me the most.

I hate the man I am.

I want to be better than him.

But how is that possible? How can I rise above that when I crumble at the first brush of temptation? I am undeniably infatuated with Tinsley Monroe and I'm not sure there's a way to stop it.

I slip my tongue inside her along with my fingers while she continues to rub her clit. I taste her cum. I lick every drop of it. I want more of it. More of her. Over and over again, I want that. And not just for tonight. I have seven days left on this boat.

Seven days before we have to part ways and return to reality.

She sags into the bed, a sated smile on her lips and her arm over her eyes as she gives a small, incredulous laugh.

"I should keep you and your wicked mouth and talented fingers between my thighs, even if you get off on torturing me. I don't think I've come like that in… oh… yeah—" Her head pops up and her eyes meet mine, crinkling at the edges and looking contrite. "Is it awful to say I can't remember the last time I came that hard?"

Pride puffs my chest while simultaneously making me feel like shit. I shake my head, at a loss with that one.

"Do you still want me to call you sir?" She smirks. She thinks she's being taunting and sassy.

I give her cunt a dirty lick from her ass all the way up to her clit. "You know I was only half serious about all that sir stuff, right?"

"What?" she screeches and then gasps as I swirl my tongue.

I laugh. "I won't lie, it gets me hard as hell, so if you want to call me that, I certainly won't mind. I like to dominate, and I like control in the bedroom, but I'm not a Dom, and you sure as hell aren't submissive."

"Oh my god! You're such a jerk!"

She smacks my head, and I suck her sensitive clit into my mouth until she bucks and yanks at my hair, trying to pull me back. "We both know you liked it. Lie to yourself and me, but it's true. If you didn't like what I just did with you, you wouldn't have come so hard."

"Maybe it's because the name Stone sounds stupid. Like calling you a rock. Any name, including sir, is better than Stone. "

I bite her inner thigh, making her yelp and rip some more at my hair. "Maybe. But likely not. Now that you look calm, you should get some sleep. I'm going back to check the navigation station to make sure we're still on course."

Before she can say anything, I get up and leave the room. Because if I don't, I'll fuck her. And then she'll really be mine when being mine isn't in the cards for us.