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It wakes my dick back up, turning it into stone.

He licks his hand before he moves down and runs his tongue over my shaft.

I lean back against the headboard, biting down on my lip.

He swallows my dick whole, deep throating me like an expert.

I can’t see myself managing the same with his battering ram of a cock.

“I’m not going to last,” I murmur, wondering if he even cares.

He moans around my cock, not slowing down for a single second.

Running my hands through his hair, I start rocking slowly into his movements.

He adjusts quickly, and my cock is buried at the back of his throat when I lose control.

He swallows down my cum without letting go.

I let out a sleepy sigh, knowing I could easily fall asleep with my cock in his mouth.

I guess I trust him. Even if I barely know him.

He lets go and moves back.

“You taste like baked pineapple,” he murmurs, sounding hungry.

“Mmm?” I manage to mumble as I rest back against the headrest.

My eyelids feel heavy, and I’m worn the fuck out.

I need to sleep, and I can’t stay awake a single second longer.

Chapter Seventy

Cameron

There’s no fucking fuel in the hangar. There’s no fuel inside the Cessna’s tank, either. I go through every cupboard, every box, every hiding place in the hangar, and I don’t find a damned thing.

There’s no way in hell Zane is crazy enough to bring Dale and Zoey out here without a way to get off the island again. There has to be a fuel tank somewhere. Or a boat, not that I know how to steer one of those.

“That fucking asshole,” I mutter as I leave the hangar.

I don’t bother to lock it back up. The lock was a joke. There’s nothing to steal inside.

I look back at that bright blue building. The hotel.

He must have hidden a tank inside somewhere.

It makes me mad to think about going back in there.

I don’t want to have to see Dale again. I don’t want to see Zelena, or Zoey, or whatever the fuck her name is. It doesn’t matter that both of them might be meant for me. I could never be a part of a pack that includes that prick Zane.

I get to the pool and walk over to the door that’s lying open.

The lobby seems empty, so I step inside, hopeful that I can take a look around without running into anyone. I head over to the reception desk, thinking it looks big enough to have some kind of storage underneath. A soft moan turns my head.

Zoey’s lying on one of the couches, asleep, but clearly having a bad dream.