Black Sand (Honeymoon with a Stranger Book 1)

  Black Sand

  Victoria Rose

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  1

  I just had sex with a stranger.

  Fantastic. Passionate. Life-changing sex.

  Not that Henri is completely a stranger. For as long as he was face-deep between my legs last night, he was anything but a stranger to me—or my body. His sapphire eyes had fixated on mine. Two pearlescent orbs had bobbed with every recoil of my body away from his flicking tongue. It felt like we’d made love for hours, but in truth, the blur of time had only lasted around ten exhilarating minutes. With excruciating joy, he’d received all of me.

  My virginity.

  My innocence.

  My soul.

  I gave it all freely. From the first time our eyes met, I’d willed him inside me. With all of my being, I needed him to complete me. And even though he now stands across the room, I feel him. Delights from the prickles of his deep red chin stubble still linger on my inner thighs. His hot breath rasps across my neck.

  I close my eyes and gasp.

  The memories electrify a shiver up my spine, before I pull up in the satin sheets. Digging my elbows into the soft mattress, I push myself into the voluptuous feather pillows.

  They still smell of him.

  My breath draws in his musky fragrance. I need him again.

  The tips of my fingers long to wash across his muscular frame, but instead they whisk across my empty lips. With a twist, I rotate the large heart-shaped diamond to its proper place next to its accompanying gold band. Had it only been a month since he’d asked me to marry him?

  Our whirlwind romance is the stuff of hallmark movies and romance novels. Would I wake up soon only to realize this is only just a dream? Maybe so, but just in case, I won’t pinch myself.

  Henri’s my mysterious husband. A man I barely know. One day, I’ll learn his real name, but for now I’m going to savor every minute. I’ll keep our secret. I’ll play his game.

  Light from a window behind the bamboo headboard catches in the brilliant stone. It sparkles the same way it had the night Henri proposed. Everything changed that day. And until last night, that moment had been the single best in my entire life. But after the gasping and clawing. Heaving and moaning. Life has a new meaning.

  Now I’m sure what living is—it’s being locked in Henri’s naked embrace.

  Like a robed statue, Henri leans against the open patio doorframe. Arms crossed, he stares out over the Pacific as a breeze gusts in from the Ocean. The tail of his robe sways in the humid wind stream. Dimples from his lower back wink with each pass of the cotton fabric. My eyes trace the edges of his perfect bottom. The sunrise illuminates the small blond hairs of his cheeks. His tan skin pulls tight over the muscles with mesmerizing perfection. I’ll give him a tickle there later.

  After all, he is my husband.

  But after three months, I still know absolutely nothing about who he really is. In every way he is mine, and in every way he is a foreigner to me. He swore on his mother’s grave that the reason for his secrecy was not illicit in any way. He promised he isn’t a murderer, or a con artist, and that he doesn’t work for the CIA. But most importantly, he doesn’t have some other secret family.

  Henri is all mine—and for now that will have to do.

  The morning sun rises high in the horizon. We’d slept in late, but I’m not surprised. After an evening making love to Mary, anyone would be exhausted. But it is I who has that great pleasure.

  She belongs to me now. And I won’t let her go.

  A line of pelicans swoops over the breaking waves searching for breakfast. They move in unison—in unspoken precision.

  Just like last night with Mary.

  Our bodies arched and waned in silent affirmation of each other’s caresses. A first night together that was well worth the wait.

  Mary is everything I ever hoped and dreamed she would be—and so much more. I never saw myself settling down or getting married, not with grandfather’s rules. But she makes me want to change all that. For her I’ll play the old man’s sordid game.

  Gone are the days of all work and no play. With Mary, I want to do nothing but experience a life fulfilled by her love.

  It sounds sappy, but I don’t care.

  She is the one. Together we will pass grandfather’s test. I only wish I could tell her about it. All the secrecy and lying torments my soul. Mary deserves my everything, not just my lust.

  But for now, I’ll settle for some more of last night’s delicacies.

  2

  Henri flashes a suggestive smile at me and nods toward the beach. His perfect teeth and wavy blonde hair melt any semblance of resistance I could muster.

  “But my clothes…” My words lost in the wind as Henri disappears outside.

  My legs skate on the slick sheets as I scramble to my feet. I’d have been embarrassed at my lack of grace had he still been watching. My breasts slap against my chest with each hastened step toward my soft cotton robe.

  Outside, my husband struts to the beach. His robe flutters behind him like broken wings, exposing his manhood for all the world to see. Tightening my belt around my waist, I hurry outside to join him. A flash of light greets me at the door as my eyes adjust to the Pacific sunshine. A far stretch from mornings in the Midwest.

  With one hand I pull the white fabric tight over my crotch, and with the other I secure the robe over my breasts. Short steps help me shimmy to join my husband.

  This isn’t like me. I’d never have done something so risqué before Henri. But as I search the beach line, I realize we are all alone. There are no other residences. In fact, apart from the small stretch of black sand beach, I can see nothing but palm trees, ocean, and steep cliffs.

  Paradise.

  Our sexual paradise. Greater than any fantasy I could imagine. But that is just what life is like with Henri. Endless unexpected fantasy.

  Images of my beautiful bride play over in my mind with each step closer to the beach. Her white dress blowing in the wind during their wedding ceremony. The lace veil pressing against her ruby lips. They’d almost begged to be kissed and every second the preacher spoke tantalized my ability to resist.

  And then there was last night.

  My fingers had fumbled over Mary’s wedding dress until I finally tore the bindings. The mass of silky fabric slinked down her perfectly tanned body. First her orb shaped breasts peeked free just below her long brown hair. She’d moved to cover herself slightly but not before the well-trimmed hair above her loins outlined her most intimate gift.

  I’ll remember that moment for the rest of my life.

  Everything about Mary and her body had pleased me, and I long for more of that pleasure right now. And when she joins me at the beach, I have a surprise in store for her.

  3

  Henri stands at the water’s edge. Waves crash just offshore and wash gently over his feet. He doesn’t even attempt to recover his wayward robe, most assuredly in some tantalizing ruse for her pleasure.

  Without even a notice, I’d released hold of my robe and strode to join Henri. The wind pulls at the cloth, effortlessly exposing half of my chest. On any other day, I’d cover up.

  But not today.

  I slide in behind my statue of a husband and snake one arm around his chiseled waist. My other arm slips under his arm and cups the front of his shoulder. With a light tug, I pull myself to my toes. I rest my chin over his shoulder before kissing his stubble-lined cheek.

  “Good morning, Love.” Henri’s baritone voice smooth like the crashing w
aves. He places his arms gently over mine. He hugs me ever so softly while he twists his neck for a full-on kiss. The passions in his soft lips hadn’t receded a day since our lips had first locked. He sucks on my top lip for a brief moment before allowing his investigating tongue to join mine.

  A relief-filled sigh crawls out from my innermost being. This is real. All of it. And I am living this dream.

  I let my lowest hand drop to his waist and take hold of the throbbing center of all my pleasure. Before last night I couldn’t have ever pictured myself being this forward. But the me I used to be was no longer, she’d been replaced by a new creation—Mary West. Probably a fake last name also, but this moment was far from disingenuous.

  A yearning groan rumbles in Henri’s throat. I stroke my hand in cadence with the waves, coming to rest at the base of his arousal just as warm saltwater splashes over our feet. With every motion Henri pushes back against me. His body writhes closer and closer as I push my breasts into his naked shoulders. It’s almost as if our souls will force themselves together—forever.

  Mary’s tantalizing embrace sends shivers down my legs. The unexpected blessing of her stroking fingers causes every ounce of blood in my body to boil in fervent suspense.

  I won’t stop her.

  My soul cries out for her to continue. I need her. I want her.

  Wet kisses on my neck singe against my hot skin. The cool breeze tantalizes over the moistened flesh.

  She ruins me. I am no longer the man I was. And I no longer desire to be the man I was going to be. My old life masqueraded under this charade of Henri West. My mind seeks to keep the ruse, but my hearts wars to bare my true self.

  But I can’t. Not yet.

  We have to make it the year. Waiting won’t change our love for each other. But it will make us wealthy beyond our wildest dreams. This life of fantasy will become reality.

  4

  We carry on our primal dance of passion and desire until the incoming tide begins to splash up into our thighs. Henri throbs in my hand. A hotness overtakes me. I’m ready for more—much more.

  Almost as if on command, Henri whirls around in my arms. His strong hands cup my butt like magnets to metal. With a playful squeeze he pulls me into his arms. I giggle as I lock my feet around his back and reposition my arms over his shoulders. My auburn hair dangles around his head like vines in the jungle. His blue eyes cut through the shade, pausing only briefly on mine before moving from my shoulders to my neck to my chest. It’s as though he’s visually drinking me in.

  Take me.

  His excitement presses against my thigh like an enthusiastic puppy. I long to be crushed in his embrace. Henri’s thoughtful kisses start at my exposed nipple and traverse slowly across my bare skin. He comes to a stop at my opposite earlobe before I can no longer throttle the dizzying current running through my body.

  Parting my lips, I lower my head to meet his. The kiss sings through my veins as goosebumps blanket my arms.

  More. I need more.

  Henri pulls up for a breath of air. “Trust me.”

  I can’t speak. Every cell in my body desires release, not conversation. I nod in anticipation and return to his soft pillows of delight. I didn’t realize we were heading into the water until the waves splash my bottom. My heart leaps a bit from the cool startle, but the thrill only drives me deeper into our embrace.

  And then Henri enters me. Like a fire shooting bolts of joy to the tips of my fingers and toes. I gasp as if I’d been drowning in a see of delight. Instinct causes my calves to pull against Henri’s legs closer.

  Deeper.

  The next wave overtakes us just as ecstasy engulfs every inch of my body. I scream. My legs shudder caught in the throws of elation. My back arches away from Henri as he balances in the crystal clear waters. Rolling chills course my back and I force myself down for another round.

  Henri pleasures us both to the rhythm of the waves. Our robes float like ghostly apparitions against the black sand below. A cacophony of our exultations echo off the moss covered basalt cliffs, heightening the joy and deepening our zeal.

  Listening to the sound of Mary’s orgasm may be the greatest noise on earth. She breaths in soul-drenching drafts, not seeming to take in enough air. Her chest heaves and her heart pounds against my chest.

  I release her into the waves and she floats on her back to shore. Her face locked in a fatigued smile. My excitement pulses in its own release of emotion, endorphins, and testosterone. Wave after wave pushes Mary further up the black sand. Her limbs bob effortlessly in the low surf.

  Lifting my buried feet out of the sand, I allow the waves to carry me to meet my wife. When I approach shallow water, I crawl up to meet Mary. She turns to her stomach and pulls herself a little further up the black sand. Like an umbrella, I move into position above her, kissing my path from the bottoms of her toes to the back of her neck. She squirms with each gentle kiss. As my lips reached t=my intended destination, Mary pushes up slightly, raising her bottom into my abdomen. Bikini lines from her untanned rear heighten my excitement. She moans as I slide an arm under her belly to support her.

  I know the signal.

  Her desire wells up another round of anticipation inside of me. Dropping my body into position, I enter her from behind. Mary clutches at the black beach. The dark sand squishes between her fingers. She gropes for more, as if it will steady her to receive each plunge of my arousal, but to no avail. Mary turns her head like a swimmer and she gulps for breaths in between waves. Her head pushes into the sand as she calls out in primal screams of passion. Our bodies make slapping sounds with each thrust, slow at first and then fast like a diesel engine about to explode.

  I worry my love is going to drown in the surf, so I grasp her hair and pull back ever so gently. Mary arches in silent response. She cries out for release a moment before waves of delight spasm through her. I follow suit only a moment after she. My body jolts in jubilation before I splash into the water and flutter like a fish out of water.

  We both lay in the lapping waves staring at each other with smirks on our silent faces.

  “I love you.” In less than two months, I was without a doubt. And it wasn’t the amazing sex talking.

  Mary flashs her gorgeous smile. Her brown eyes shimmer as she speaks the words, “Henri, I will love you now and forever. Even if your real name turns out to be something like, Burt.”

  I laugh so hard I accidentally swallow some seawater. Mary laughs at me sputtering and spurting. But our precious moment didn’t last. It is interrupted by the sound of a distant helicopter.

  My handlers have returned.

  Mary can’t hide her worried look. “We have to go?”

  “Yes, my dear.” I help her stand to her feet. In the midst of our passionate love making, we’d lost our robes. “Let’s go inside and gather some clothes.”

  I wrap my arm around my love and we rush inside naked as the day we were born.

  When we reach our bedroom, Mary looks at me. “Do I have to take the pills again?”

  “I’m afraid so, my love.” I hate that she has to force herself to black out. But those are the rules of the game. Rules that we’ve both agreed to, even if she doesn’t know why. If only I could tell her, everything would be better. At least I’d feel less guilty. “But look on the bright side, we are on to secret destination number two.”

 

 

  Victoria Rose, Black Sand (Honeymoon with a Stranger Book 1)

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