Georgia’s POV
I leaned back into him, tracing the miniature’s features with my eyes and my fingertip.
"There," I said, pointing. "That’s the shore where we lost the life raft."
Nick chuckled softly. "And where you almost fainted because you thought the turtle under the bush was so kind of wild animal."
I jabbed his thigh with my elbow. He kissed the top of my head.
"And that," I continued, moving my finger, "is the stream where we used to bathe... And do other stuff," I laughed at my own dirty joke.
"You were always tempting ," he said casually.
"And this..." I touched the little bump made to represent the cave entrance. "Ho number one."
Nick’s arms tightened around , protective, warm, familiar.
And then—
I felt him.
His body pressed flush against mine from behind... and sothing hard poked firmly against my lower back.
I blinked, glancing down just to confirm the pressure before raising a brow.
"Oh," I whispered teasingly. "Well, hello."
I expected him to laugh or play along.
But he didn’t.
When I turned my head slightly to look at him, his expression made my breath hitch.
Nick wasn’t blushing.
He wasn’t flustered.
He was serious. Hungry. His jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling steadily as he stared at like he had been holding himself back all day and just lost the battle.
The flashlight shook slightly in his hand.
"Nick, I was just joking," I whispered.
He swallowed, eyes locked on mine, dark, intense, and unmistakably aroused.
"I didn’t plan this either," he murmured, voice low, thick. "But you... standing here... talking about the places we survived together... the places we fell in love... Things that we did..."
His breath hitched.
"Georgia... you’re turning on, really bad..."
I couldn’t help the slow, wicked smile curling on my lips... maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was just him... my maddening, irresistible husband, but either way, I leaned forward and hooked a finger inside the waistband of his boardshorts, tugging him closer, and slowly untying the drawstrings.
"You know..." I whispered, letting my breath brush his skin, "You’re not the only one getting turned on. Being here with you? It’s doing things to , too. It’s so nostalgic... Making rember things I do to you and things you do to ..."
I slid my hands onto the table and pushed myself up, settling on the solid wooden surface. It creaked softly under my weight, and I rocked it teasingly. "Hmm... looks like this table is sturdy enough to handle you and ," I murmured, my voice dropping into sothing daring... sinful.
Then I dragged my hands up his torso, slipping under his shirt, letting my nails trail heat across his skin.
"So... what’s it going to be, Captain Knight?" I asked with a smirk that challenged him to lose control.
Nick’s lips parted, and I heard the sharp hitch in his breath before he exhaled. His eyes darkened, hungry, feral, and instead of speaking, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it off in one swift motion over his head.
No words. No hesitation. Just pure action.
He stripped next, pulling up my swimsuit cover-up and leaving in nothing but my tiny, barely-there string bikini. The mont his gaze swept over , his jaw clenched like he was fighting the urge to take right then and there.
Then he gave in.
His hand slid behind my neck, fingers threading into my hair as he pulled into a kiss that stole every ounce of air from my lungs. Hot, greedy, punishing. His other hand worked fast, tugging on the strings of my bikini, loosening them one by one.
My hands were just as frantic. I shoved down his boardshorts and trunks, and the second they hit the floor, his cock sprang free, thick, hard, desperate.
A low moan escaped .
I wrapped my hand around him, stroking him slowly at first, then tighter... faster... as my other hand road across his sculpted chest and abs.
It was wild... Beautiful, breath-stealing chaos.
Our mouths crashed again and again, no talking, just the raw heat pulsing between us, the kind that made the rest of the world disappear. The lighthouse wasn’t finished, there was no roof, the night breeze kissed our skin... and yet all I could feel was him.
He and the wild, primal desire sparked hotter with every second.
And I wanted more. Much, much more.
"Dammit..." Nick breathed, pulling away from my lips, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon. "Hold on, babe. The workers—shit—I forgot they might still co up here. L-Let just send them ho."
He fumbled for his phone, clearly torn between responsibility and the very obvious problem straining against my hand.
I smirked, wiping my swollen lips with my thumb. "Okay, do what you need to do. I’ll do the sa."
I gently pushed him back, guiding him until he was leaning against the table. His body was warm, tense... begging.
"Fuck! No one’s replying! What are they even doing? I made a damn group chat exactly for urgent monts like this," he muttered in pure frustration, brows pulling together.
A soft laugh slipped from . "Monts like this? Why don’t you call them instead?"
He didn’t hesitate. His thumb flew over his screen, bringing the phone to his ear. The mont soone picked up—
—I sank to my knees.
His eyes widened, just for a second, before they darkened completely as I wrapped my hand around his cock and stroked him once, slow and wicked.
Then I took him into my mouth.
He bit his lower lip hard, jaw tightening, head tipping back as silent curses ford on his lips.
"Uhm—y-yes," he managed to say into the phone, voice already strained. "E-Everyone can go ho now. We... we don’t need anyone to stay on the island."
I bobbed my head deeper, cupping him, sucking him with a steady rhythm that made his thighs tremble. His free hand landed on my head, fingers threading into my hair as he tried and failed to breathe normally.
"We... j-just want to enjoy our stay alone. It’s our h-honeymoon anyway," he said, voice cracking deliciously at "honeymoon."
His gaze dropped to mine, dark, desperate, ruined, as I hollowed my cheeks around him. He swallowed hard.
"I’ll j-just... call the group if we n-need anything," he added, breathless, before finally ending the call.
The second the line disconnected, Nick tightened his grip in my hair and groaned, long and low.
"Fuck, Georgia..." he growled, eyes blazing. "You really like tornting ."
He pulled up, lifting effortlessly, pressing back onto the table again, his mouth hovering over mine, his breath hot and ragged.
"Now it’s my turn," he whispered, voice dropping to sothing sinful. "Let tornt you back..."
*******
Thank you for the Golden Tickets!
gatron93
ONIgiri8
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