Rayne Willows is an artist from the Pacific Northwest looking to shake up her boring life. A trip to Jamaica sounds like the perfect way to let loose and rekindle her passion for photography. When she meets local man Marcus Greene on the beach in Ocho Rios, sparks immediately fly. Marcus offers to show Rayne around his beautiful hometown, but during the sightseeing tour, the two quickly realize the passion they have for each other can’t be held back. They decide to make their one night together a sexy experience neither of them is likely to forget.
“This is a statue of Marcus Garvey, he was a famous Jamaican political leader,” Marcus said. “I’m named after him,” he said and smiled with pride.
“Really? That’s amazing,” I replied while reading the plaque at the base of the statue. Or I had been reading it, until Marcus put his hand on the inscription and began to finger the lettering.
I watched his fingers move over the words. All evening I’d been enraptured by how sensual they were. I’d barely been able to finish my food as I’d watched him use deft fingers to pull the flesh of a chicken from the bone. He wrapped those luscious lips around the pad of his finger and lightly sucked, making sure all the essence got onto his taste buds. How I’d love to take those digits into my mouth and lavish all ten of them with my tongue.
I flushed at the thought. I had to stop, at least for the moment. There was a heat wave going on inside my body, so I turned the glossy pages of a sight-seeing pamphlet into a fan. The soft breeze stirred the filmy material on the neck-line of my sundress.
“Americans,” he said with a smirk when he saw me fanning myself. “This Caribbean heat is too much for you, eh?” Marcus asked, his caramel-colored eyes following the movement of my fan.
Oh, if only he knew my discomfort had nothing to do with the Jamaican weather and everything to do with a certain Jamaican man. A trickle of sweat rolled down my neck and settled into the valley between my breasts. Hot and irritated, I pulled the material on the front of my dress away from my body.
I looked up at Marcus and saw him lick his full lips. When I realized Marcus was getting an extended view of my cleavage, I pretended not to know what I was doing and yanked my neckline down farther. He turned from the statue of his namesake and took a few steps towards me, filling in the empty space between us. I stared up into his gorgeous golden-hued eyes and I decided to make my move. After all, how many times would I be single and alone in Jamaica?
I deliberately rubbed my body against his. Thanks to the heat, we both wore very little. The only thing separating the skin of our chests was the thin cotton of his T-shirt and the filmy material my sundress was made of. My braless breasts caressed his muscled chest while the softness of my stomach cradled his rock-hard erection. Marcus gritted his teeth, wrapped his hands around the back of my neck and brought his mouth to mine with crushing force.
When our mouths met, he used his plump lips to suck and nibble mine. He soon tired of that game and thrust his tongue into my mouth, moving it in and out. In and out. His tongue moved in such a perfect rhythm that I could only think of one thing—the way his erection would feel as he moved inside me with the same fierce tempo. I squirmed inside at the thought and couldn’t wait to get Marcus back to my room.
About the author
Ariel Storm believes that fantasies are meant to be explored, on the pages of her manuscripts, and beyond. Ariel fell in love with all things paranormal, magical and mystical at a young age. Her obsession with the dark, dangerous and forbidden began in her teen years as a way to rebel against her strict religious upbringing. Her stories can range from contemporary BDSM to new adult to paranormal. One thing will never change, and that’s writing scorching hot erotic romance with unconventionally sexy alpha heroes.
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