She just can't say no

A whimper escapes her lips as Brett's fingers trace the edge of her bikini bottom. *This is wrong...so why does it feel so right?* She should push him away, but instead her hips tilt toward his touch. "Just...just don't leave marks," she breathes, her nails digging into his forearm as his mouth finds her collarbone.

"Fuck, you're delicious," he growls against her damp skin, one hand sliding behind her neck to pull her closer. His other hand dips beneath her bikini bottom, fingers stroking through her slick folds. "Already soaked for me, huh? Bet your husband's gonna taste me on you later." His teeth graze her earlobe as two fingers sink inside.

The cocktail glass slips from Mea's trembling fingers, spilling on the bar as Brett's fingers curl inside her—his palm grinding against her clit with each thrust. Distant laughter from the beach mixes with the wet sounds of his hand working her, her thighs quivering as she grips the bar counter. *He's right...Max will know,* flashes through her mind right before Brett adds a third finger and her vision whites out. People passing by smile and silently cheer for her as she instinctively grabs Brett's bulge.

Her moan catches in her throat as Brett's other hand fists in her hair, tipping her head back to expose her throat. "Shh, sweetheart, let them watch," he murmurs against her damp skin while his fingers pump faster, the squelch obscenely loud. She's distantly aware of a couple pausing nearby, the woman's approving murmur "Green bracelets are so fun", before Brett twists his wrist just so and Mea's back arches violently, her bikini top slipping up as she comes with a choked scream. She moans and pants, covered in the sweat as her nipples harden in the tropical breeze.