“Not at all.”
His knuckles brushed aside the hair stuck to my cheek. “I’ve been hard for you for so long, Estelle. Half-crazy, no, that’s a lie, totally crazy with wanting you.” His turbulent eyes turned a deeper darker blue. “I know I can’t lose control with you. That I’ll never come inside you. But being with you is the best place on earth for me.”
I removed his hand from my cheek, guiding him seductively down my body.
He sucked in breath as I splayed his touch over my breast.
He arched an eyebrow. “Again?”
I nodded.
My fingers explored between us, finding his warm cock. Already, he was semi-hard, reacting to my demands for a second course.
His lips twitched as he rolled my nipple. My hips rocked without my permission, seeking something, seeking him.
“Where have you been all my life?” He kissed me softly.
“Waiting.”
“Waiting?”
“Waiting for this.” Stretching, I gave him everything I was. “Waiting for you to find me.”
“And now that I’ve found you?”
“You’re mine.”
“Forever?”
“Forever.”
Chapter Forty-Six
...............................................
G A L L O W A Y
......
FEBRUARY
ESTELLE was a sorceress.
Pure and simple.
Being with her tamed the tempest in my soul, while life deleted my past and skewed all conception of normal.
What was conceived right, suddenly became wrong.
What was wrong, miraculously became right.
And where danger and death used to reign, now happiness and hope became stronger.
That was the island for us.
That was Estelle for me.
After the most insanely incredible night in the bamboo grove, life sped up. Without thinking, we all slotted into our place in this new world and stopped fighting it. And once we did...we no longer struggled as much.
Sure, there were days when loneliness became overwhelming.
When the drizzle became depressing.
When the constant heat became debilitating.
Some nights, we still stared out to sea, begging for a plane to pass. Some mornings, it was hard to get out of bed, faced with yet another day of momentous gathering, hunting, and island living.
But for every dark day, there were bright ones.
For every tear, there were smiles.
For every argument, there was laughter.
We used our time wisely, slowly increasing our skills and building bigger and better things. We educated ourselves not by text books and professors but through nature and trees. And slowly, our mental and physical capabilities adapted to our new place.
I would never admit out loud that I’d accepted this as my home, but in my heart, I couldn’t deny it.
This was my place. My safety. My chosen sanctuary.
And it filled my soul with gratefulness that I’d somehow found it.
After I’d admitted to Estelle that I needed her as much as we needed the rain to survive, and she’d admitted that she was in love with me, our sexual tension only increased rather than dispersed.
I took her often.
She took me often.
And in each other’s arms, we found paradise.
As my body slipped into hers, and her breath entered my lungs, and her kisses captured my lips, I healed more than I thought possible.
Somehow, she gave me the permission to release the hate for the past I’d suffered, she granted forgiveness for what I’d done and soothed every screwed-up emotion I had left from the trial.
My ankle might never heal completely but with Estelle in my world...I began to think my soul just might.
.............................
MARCH
The marine debris that’d blown into our lives, thanks to the major monsoon, slowly became fundamental to our existence.
We’d repaired the deck chair with sticks to replace its broken frame and the barnacles were chipped off to reveal a sad, rusted chair that was just as abandoned as us.
The plastic bags added to our tree-water collection, and we now had multiple funnels keeping us hydrated even if the rain was sparse. Even the green fishing net had been repaired and untangled, cutting our spear fishing time in half.
Conner was the one who wielded the net, wading out to the reef and dragging it behind him as he swam for shore. Sometimes, he failed to catch anything, but most of the time, he scooped up enough fish, an occasional handful of prawns or a squid or two, that we never went to bed hungry and even had leftovers to salt and preserve.
Estelle continued to sample leaves, seeds, and the occasional beach nut for allergic reactions, and she and Pippa slowly built our larder to resemble a fully stocked pantry rather than a sparse island habitat.
Some nights, we’d even vary our seafood diet with an occasional lizard. However, nothing could beat the beauty of figuring out how versatile ash was.
Ash from our constant fire dotted the campsite from popping wood and swirling winds. Slowly, we noticed ants stopped claiming our food as often. Before, we’d leave an open coconut or fish ready to smoke by the fire, and within minutes, it would be black with damn ants. However, with the white ash sprinkled around, they avoided the temptation.
I had no idea why.
We also noticed (completely by accident—thanks to the kids rolling around in a game of wrestle) that smearing ourselves with ash at night kept the mosquitoes away.
Estelle became obsessed with finding other uses. Trial and error showed if she steeped and strained the ash, it became a natural laundry and stain detergent. She used the liquid to wash her and Pippa’s hair and even sprinkled the stuff in our home to prevent as many creepy crawlies as possible.