Tonight she did. Not just permitting the exploration, but aching for it. Eyes closed, totally focused on sensations, she murmured, “Please.”
He abandoned her breast and closed his fingers around her wrist. A little tug dislodged her white-knuckled grip on the cushion. He guided her hand between her legs. Pressed it there. “Please yourself.” He moved his hand away. “Show me.”
She couldn’t even wait for him to finish speaking. Her hips had a mind of their own—rocking, grinding with abandon. Seeking a way out from under the crushing need.
He kept touching her, too. His low words of encouragement formed an indistinct but incredibly erotic hum in her ears. The need itself built with every second, winding her body tighter and tighter. Everything inside her quivered with anticipation. It felt so amazing, so freeing, being out here with him, miles away from civilization. No demands. No judgments. No secondary agendas or suspect intentions. Not a single person questioning her decisions, or…
Holy shit, Arden, are you thinking about this? Now?
Absolutely not. She forced the clutter of thoughts out of her head and focused on the warm, solid weight of the man behind her. He’d wrapped one hand around her ankle. The other still kept her on task, giving her an indefinable thrill when her busy fingers brushed his steady ones. But try as she might, the moment continued to stretch out longer, and longer, and her reward for all struggling slipped further out of reach.
Even in the middle of the ocean, with her troubles a continent away and a deviously inventive man determined to get her past her hang-ups, she couldn’t turn the stress off. When had her head become such a fucked-up mess? A new weight settled on her, competing with need. Exhaustion. Maybe if she rested for a moment—just a moment. But even that small respite cost her hard-won ground. The orgasm she’d been straining to capture drifted away like a rare butterfly. “Oh no.”
“Uh-uh. No giving up. You’re going to get there.”
Defeat turned her limbs to lead. She lowered her forehead to the bench because tears stung her eyes. Disappointment, humiliation. “I can’t.”
“You can. I’m going to help you.” He tightened his grip on her ankle and moved it to the side. He also withdrew his hand from between her legs, but before she could process the loss, a hard palm slapped her ass.
She gasped. Her eyes flew open, and then the lids grew heavy as the vibrations returned in full force, shimmering outward from the point of impact in devastating waves. “B-baby steps?” Without contemplating the consequences, she lifted her hips.
“That’s for doubting me, Czarina. This one”—he smacked her again, concentrating on the other cheek this time—“is for the stunt last night.”
The second impact was just as effective as the first. Her nerve endings sang. Little pinpricks of light danced across her vision. Sweat glued her cheek to the cushion. “Sorry. So sorry.”
“Not yet.” He smoothed his palm over her ass. The move wasn’t punishing, but undeniably proprietary. A touch meant to subdue, yet reassure at the same time. “I’m going to clear that busy mind of yours, and you’re going to come, even if I have to drag you there, kicking and screaming. Do you trust me to do that for you, Czarina?”
She wanted to. God, did she want to. “I—yes.”
The weight of his hand disappeared. “Let’s have that apology now.”
“I’m sorry.”
Another light blow sent sensations ricocheting through her. “Be specific.”
Between her thighs, her fingers worked frantically. So did her voice. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”
“And?” Another quick, smarting swat followed.
“And for faking it last night.” The words spilled out in a rush. She didn’t have time to talk. The butterfly was back, and it had brought friends. Lots of friends.
“Apology accepted.” He circled his palm slowly over her backside, angling his fingers down the vee of her bikini to where it cupped her. He rubbed her there—an unmistakably claim-staking gesture. His new strike zone. “Now, for the most important part. Promise you’ll never fake it again.”
“I swear. I promise.”
“Good.” He sank his teeth into the arch of her foot and rained a stunning series of light blows directly on the target.
The measure jostled every last doubt right out of her self-defeating mind. She kicked. She screamed. She came. So long and hard the relief raged through her system, draining away months of pent-up need and crippling frustration in a cleansing torrent. “Oh God. I promise. Never again. I…promise.”
…
He held fast as she bucked, and thrashed, and rode out the shock waves—in part because he wanted to make sure she enjoyed every last spasm, but also because he didn’t want to stop touching her. At some point soon he’d have to, because after the orgasm she’d be too sensitive for even the featherlight strokes he currently gave her warm, pleasure-swollen regions.
Also, he was going to have to do something about his own agonized state of being. Something that didn’t involve flipping her over and plunging into the tight passage still rippling with the aftershocks of her hard-earned orgasm. No, this one was all hers. He’d committed himself to that, and he planned to honor the commitment. He’d also committed to giving her a soul-shattering climax with his cock, and withholding the actual intercourse until she couldn’t think past having him inside her increased his odds of success. He had to walk a fine line—reacquaint her with her orgasm, build her confidence in her ability to achieve it, but keep her needy. His situation, conversely, was nothing a dive overboard couldn’t cure. Eventually.
Right now, her toes still curled. Her hands still clutched the sides of the cushion, and her breaths still ended in little whimpers. He wished he had a better view of her face. Wished he’d gotten to see her surprise when she’d realized she was going to get there, and her surrender as she’d tumbled over the edge. Wished he knew exactly what expression accompanied her long, throaty cry of triumph. Soon, he promised himself. This time was all about her. He’d wanted her completely focused on herself and her needs. He was merely a means to an end.
“Whoa,” she murmured, and her body went slack. “Thank you.”