He kissed his way further down her body, her clit throbbing in aching anticipation while she buried her fingers into the warm sand, desperate for something to hold on to.
And then his fingers spread her wet folds open, and his tongue began to slowly explore her.
She arched against him, trembling at every slow, careful swipe of his tongue. Through the bond, she could feel how much he loved her reaction to him.
Even if she’d wanted to hold back, it would have been impossible. As gentle as his mouth was, every touch was demanding, his tongue circling her and dipping inside her until she thought that she’d really go insane from need this time.
And then, at last, he showed some mercy. He’d driven her so far that she felt as if she was walking on a tightrope, barely able to hold herself together under the onslaught of pleasure. At the first, teasing lick of his tongue over her clit, she could feel herself falling.
Pleasure rushed up to meet her. It raced through her entire body as she trembled and cried out from the force of the sudden climax.
And while she was still trembling through her orgasm, his tongue kept circling her clit, teasing and demanding until she felt herself coming again and again, her body writhing helplessly beneath him.
When he finally released her she felt utterly exhausted. She was still shivering with pleasure, her clit swollen and so sensitive that the smallest touch would set her off again. But she didn’t want his tongue. She wanted more. She wanted to feel him inside her—and she wanted to feel him find his own pleasure, with her, inside her.
He groaned when his hard shaft pressed against her folds. She could feel the way his powerful muscles contracted.
In encouragement, she ran his hands over his shoulders, pulling him against her—and then, at last, he finally pushed inside.
Liana cried out at the sensation. She was so sensitive now that even the feeling of him sliding inside was almost enough to set her off again.
But she wanted to come together with him. She wanted to feel his pleasure, and so she dug her fingers into his shoulders, moaning at each of his thrusts.
His skin slid against her own, still wet. He smelled like saltwater, a scent that was clean and wild and powerful, all mingled with the virile, warm musk of his desire.
Desperately, she pressed her mouth to his shoulder to muffle her moans. She could taste the salt on his skin. As she kept clutching at him, she felt his muscles contract every time he pushed into her.
He filled her perfectly, her inner walls clutching at him as if to keep him inside her forever. She could feel the pleasure building and building and building.
There was a faint ringing in her ears now, a haze of golden light surrounding them. Wherever their skin touched, the light grew more brilliant.
It was the mate bond—fully in place now, stronger than steel and diamonds. Through it, she could feel his overwhelming love and desire.
Again he pushed into her, and she wrapped one thigh around his hip as she arched desperately, wanting, needing him even deeper. Again he thrust, and again. Every thrust sent almost painful sparks of pleasure through her, every nerve in her body feeling raw from the repeated onslaught of pleasure.
And then the light grew so brilliant that she had to squeeze her eyes shut. At the same time, she could feel Timothy’s pleasure rise, the sensation sweeping through the bond like the first gust of wind moments before a storm breaks lose.
She gave herself up to it, crying out as she was swept away. Her entire body tightened as pleasure pulsed through her. She couldn’t even say whether the pleasure she felt was her own or Timothy’s—and it no longer mattered.
Through the bond, she could feel the intensity of his own climax, at the same time as she felt the heat of his release inside her. Breathless, overwhelmed, she dug her nails into his skin, crying out his name while the ocean lapped at their feet.
Again and again her body throbbed. Pleasure filled her to the tips of her toes and the roots of her hair, her entire body burning with a heat that seemed nearly unbearable while Timothy’s hips jerked against her as he groaned.
And then, at last, the storm subsided.
His lips were warm against her throat. He was still inside her, slowly softening while she ran her hands over his shoulders and his back, too exhausted to speak.
At last he slipped out of her and rolled to his side, and when he looked at her, there was a grin on his face.
“What are you looking so pleased about?” she demanded, although there was an answering grin on her face.
Who knew that sex could be so damn good. No wonder her sister had kept teasing her about her single status.
“Nothing. I’m just happy,” he said and reached out to playfully tap the tip of her nose with his finger. “And you?”
She giggled. “Do you have to ask?”
The bond was surrounding her with warmth and comfort. It was like resting in a pile of warm, fluffy towels just out of the dryer. Everything felt overwhelmingly good and perfect.