“Have you been this wet the whole time?”
“Y-yes.” I trip over the admission before trying to suck in a full breath. But it’s no use—his touch steals my air, leaving my body heavy with desire, tension spreading to the bottoms of my feet. My toes dig into the sand.
“You’re so…damn…sexy,” he groans between kisses, raining them down my spine. His mouth stalls on my ass cheek, and I stop breathing altogether. As his finger slides through my wetness, rubbing in all the right spots, his warm exhales fan over my backside.
Suddenly, that plug isn’t uncomfortable anymore—it’s an arousing fullness that takes my mind to forbidden places.
“I need you to relax for this.” He pulls on the base of the toy, and I grit my teeth against the tug.
“It’ll come out easier if you let it happen.”
He rubs my clit with steady strokes, and I don’t know whether to moan from pleasure or pain as he withdraws the plug from my ass. An instant later, he dips a finger into my wetness before inching that slick digit into my anus.
His breathing quickens. So does his pace. Sweet tension coils at my center, spirals down my thighs. Every inch of skin blazes to life, tingling from his touch. I grip the blanket, soft cotton and the weight of sand filling my hands.
I’m so close to coming, but I don’t know if he wants me to yet. Truth is, I don’t know where I stand with him. He’s so different from the others—less reserved, reactionary, and sexier than any man has the right to be.
“Sebastian,” I gasp, hips thrusting upward to bring his fingers deeper.
He covers me with the bulk of his hard body, and his teeth tug on my earlobe. “You’re not so innocent now, are you?” he taunts.
“I’m going to…” I squeeze my eyes shut and give in to the inevitable. Two seconds later, I take the plunge, and an intense orgasm seizes my limbs. The climax is more powerful than gravity itself, keeping me trapped in ecstasy under his solid body and the skill of his hands.
And I want more, even as I come down from the last wave.
“I could watch you come for the rest of my life, princess.” His exhales shudder against the damp hair on my nape. Sweat and need drench us both, but we’re just getting started. Intimacy with Sebastian is nothing short of awe-inspiring—a promising realm of existence a singular experience won’t satisfy alone.
Passion with him will be a lifelong mission.
He shifts his weight and rolls me to my back before standing on his knees. “You don’t know how bad I’m aching for you right now.” He adjusts himself in his jeans, and my attention stalls on the huge ridge behind his zipper.
“You put my orgasms on lockdown last month,” I point out, raising an incredulous brow. “Between that and the doctor’s voodoo sex potion, I might have an idea.”
He grins. “Voodoo sex potion?”
“It’s a more accurate name than arousing elixir.”
Showing off just how aroused he is, he tilts his hips, flaunting his erection. Thirty long seconds pass as our eyes lock. I know what he wants—what he’s too proud and stubborn to ask for. And maybe if I weren’t so worked up myself, my climax barely taking the edge off, I could draw it out long enough to make him crack.
But my craving for the taste of him, for the power his desire gives me, prompts me into motion. He doesn’t object as I unzip his jeans. Lowering into a crouching position, I prop myself on hands and knees and slide my mouth over the head of his cock.
He only gives me five seconds before desperation drives him. Both hands gripping my head, he thrusts between my lips with purpose. Pulling back isn’t an option. Teasing him isn’t an option. With a deep-throated groan, he forces his way to a gag-inducing depth.
“Keep sucking me like that.” He isn’t giving me much choice, his grip on my head unrelenting, his claim on my mouth a battle he has no intention of losing.
My lips stretch more with every inch I take, and I draw deep breaths through my nose to calm my racing heartbeat. When I glance up, I catch him staring back, his gaze fierce and arctic in the sunlight.
He’s a masterful contradiction.
Raw vulnerability shrouded in a tough I-don’t-give-a-shit exterior.
A collision of passion and thorns.
Sweet, dominant mercy.
He pulls out and caresses my cheek. “You’re so damn beautiful. I want to paint you this way.”
“On my hands and knees?”
“It’s not the position that’s got me wrapped.” His thumb rubs my wet lips. “It’s the flush of your skin, and those amazing fuck-me eyes.” Holding me by the chin, he leans down and plants his lips on mine. “It’s knowing you’re mine.”
Before I can respond, he rises and pushes his cock into my mouth again. But instead of trapping my head between the strength of his hands, he cradles my cheeks, his fingers sliding into my hair to comb it back from my face, and allows me to bring him to the finish line on my own terms.