Desert Island Read Online Olivia T. Turner

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
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Her body convulses on the rock and she screams out louder than the waterfall behind me as she comes all over my lips. The orgasm wracks her body, making it buck and shake in front of me as I jerk my cock off harder.

An intense wave of heat bursts out of my core, spreading throughout my entire body as I come hard with a groan. I cup my palm, catching my hot load in it as my girl still shakes and whimpers in front of me, my lips still latched around her clit.

When the tightness in her body leaves and she’s laying limp on the rock, I release her clit and give her pussy soft slow licks.

I reach up and rub my come on her tits. She immediately grabs her breasts and moans as she spreads my seed all over them, coating her curves and her firm little nipples in me.

I love this girl. I’m completely captivated and engrossed by her.

The obsession is complete and it’s not going away.

I’ll be feeling this way for the rest of my life. How could I not?

Look at her. She’s fucking perfect.

I dip my head back down and lick her cunt softly as she plays with her tits, loving the feeling of being coated in her man.

There’s no rush…

We all have all afternoon. All day. All night. All month. All year.

We’re here together on this island, forever.

Just the two of us.

With nothing but our bodies to keep us entertained.

Like I said… paradise.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Bridget

* * *

I can’t stop thinking about the amazing way it felt to have Carson’s head between my legs. I can still feel my pussy tingling. It hasn’t stopped all day.

“And then I went back to Silicon Valley for the second round of investments,” he says, talking about how he started and grew his company. I’m interested in the topic, but I can’t seem to focus on it at all.

I’m just thinking about that heavenly tongue and the way it made my toes curl. He was so into it, grabbing my legs and pulling me toward his ravenous mouth. It was such a turn on to see him so turned on by me.

The intense orgasm came out of nowhere and rocked me to my core. I’m still recovering.

“And from there I hired a veteran COO who was experienced and guided me in growing…”

I’m trying to focus, but it’s so hard. He’s so fucking hot. Look at him, sitting there eating the delicious hearty soup he made, looking like an island god with his shirtless body and animal-skin loincloth hanging between his legs, covering that huge cock that I saw earlier. It was enormous. Wide, thick, long, and oh so tempting.

My mouth is watering as I think about it hanging there, barely covered and so close. I can feel my nipples hardening under my pashmina dress. They must be remembering how incredible the feel of Carson’s hot come felt when he spread his load all over my breasts.

I moan as I think about it.

He stops talking and raises his eyebrow as he looks at me. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah!” I quickly recover with my cheeks blushing. “Just the soup. It’s so good.”

He smiles as I dig my wooden spoon into it and take another bite.

We’re eating dinner on the beach again and it’s just as beautiful as last night. The sun is setting and the first few stars are popping out, shining above our heads in the glittery sky. I dig my toes into the cool white sand as Carson continues talking, the fire burning in front of us, crackling and popping as it consumes the dry driftwood.

Okay, Bridget. Focus on what he’s saying. Don’t be a dolt.

“So, in the third year we hit one hundred employees,” he continues, completely oblivious that I’m not listening to a word he’s saying. I’m nodding and scrunching up my forehead every few minutes, like I’m totally focused on what he’s saying, but I’m not focused on anything.

My eyes keep roaming over his big muscular chest with the little grains of sand clinging to his tanned skin and it’s getting me all worked up. The way he’s gripping his spoon is causing his big forearm to get all flexed up and it’s incredibly distracting. The curve of his bicep is causing aches of lust to flood throughout my body.

Stop it, I scold myself. He’s talking. You need to know this stuff.

Whatever. We’re going to be stuck on this island for a gazillion years together. I’m sure he won’t mind repeating it in a few days or weeks or years or decades. Eventually, we’ll run out of stuff to talk about, but I don’t think we’ll run out of arousal for each other.

I can’t picture that ever happening. This man’s body looks like it’s an endless source of entertainment and pleasure, and we’ve barely gotten started.


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