Chapter 3: Morning Routines

The soft rustle of palm fronds outside and the distant murmur of waves lapping the shore welcomed the morning with the gentle rhythm only island life could offer. Pale golden light filtered through the sheer canopy around the bed, casting shifting patterns across the white linen and the tangle of limbs beneath it.

Paul stirred first, stretching lazily as the warmth of the sun and the presence of Faith beside him pulled him fully into the day. Her bare back was to him, skin warm and smooth under his touch, and her breathing still deep and even. The events of the day before — the long journey, the wild sex, the moonlit walk — had left them both deliciously drained. But now, the promise of the day, of the week, stirred something more.

Faith rolled over and blinked up at him with a slow, sleepy smile, her dark hair a wild halo around her. She stretched like a cat, then leaned in to press a soft kiss to his chest.

“Mmm,” she murmured. “This is going to be a good day.”

After a few more quiet minutes of lazing in bed, Faith swung her legs over the edge and padded off to the en suite bathroom, her bare skin catching the morning light as she disappeared behind the sliding door. When she returned a few minutes later, Paul had just finished his own quick wash and emerged from the bathroom to find her back on the bed.

Faith was on all fours, her toned body arched provocatively, her curly hair cascading over one shoulder. She glanced over that shoulder, her grin unmistakable — and then, slowly, she let one hand slip between her thighs.

“I need you,” she said, voice low and rough with need. “Now.”

Paul didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees on the mattress, his hands gripping her hips as he leaned in, his mouth finding her. He licked and kissed, teasing her folds, tracing around the tight bud of her ass, flicking his tongue over her clit until her thighs trembled. She rocked her hips back into his face, moaning freely, her fingers buried in the sheets. Paul stroked himself, coaxing himself to full hardness as he savored her.

Faith was panting now, insistent. “I need you inside me, now, Paul. No more teasing.”

He rose, positioned himself behind her, and in one powerful thrust, buried himself deep. She cried out, hands gripping the sheets, her body trembling with the force of it.

“Fuck, yes!” she shouted. “Harder. Don’t stop.”

Paul moved with purpose, each thrust deliberate, hips slapping against her firm ass. He gripped her tightly, driving into her with deep, rhythmic strokes. Her voice filled the cabana, a symphony of raw pleasure and commands.

“Touch yourself,” he growled. “Now.”

She reached beneath herself, rubbing her clit in time with his thrusts. He slipped his thumb to her ass, pressing gently, and she gasped — then screamed as the pressure and rhythm tipped her over the edge.

Her body convulsed beneath him, head dropping to the sheets, a choked sob of release tearing from her throat.

Paul groaned, sliding free just as he reached his own edge. He wrapped a hand around his cock and pumped quickly, spilling hot across the sheets with a ragged exhale. He collapsed beside her, both of them breathless, laughing as the weight of release washed over them.

“Think anyone heard that?” Faith said, turning her face toward him with a grin.

Paul chuckled. “If they did, maybe they’ll come knocking. We could always invite them to join in.”

Faith laughed, stretching luxuriously before rolling off the bed. “Let’s hope they’re cute.”

They cleaned up quickly, water running and towels tossed aside. The scent of sex still lingered in the room as they dressed, the edge taken off but the heat still humming between them.

Paul threw on shorts, a loose linen shirt, and sandals. Faith, never one to hide herself, wore a tiny thong bikini, the top just barely covering her nipples — not that she minded. Over it, she pulled a sheer, colorful cover-up that swayed as she walked, concealing everything just enough.

They stepped out into the sun-drenched morning, ready for breakfast.