Lucas slid his tongue softly against hers and she felt a shiver of excitement snake from her neck to the tips of her toes. He broke the kiss, moving his lips down her jaw and to her throat, leaving a trail of fire behind him. “You taste like the beach,” he told her. “Sweet and salty, and everything in between.”
She ran her hands down his back, her fingers tracing his hard, defined muscles. She loved the way they felt, loved the way he made her feel too. So safe and protected, yet on the edge of something undefined.
He pulled at the hem of her t-shirt, his fingers not quite touching her skin, though they were setting her on fire. “Is this okay?” he muttered against her throat, his lips brushing her skin.
“So good.” Her head tipped back with pleasure.
He slid his hands beneath her t-shirt, feeling her soft, smooth back. He feathered his fingers up, pushing the fabric of her t-shirt as they went, and she let out a gasp. He looked at her, his eyes inquiring, questioning.
Ember slipped her own hands beneath his top, feeling the delicious warmth of his skin as it pulled taut against his muscles. She let them travel lazily up his back, feeling the dip of his spine, the rise of his shoulder blades, closing her eyes for a moment to savor the sensation.
“You feel amazing,” she told him. “So smooth and strong, I could touch you all day.”
“You feel pretty damn good yourself,” he muttered.
A realization came over her. She didn’t want to only feel him anymore. She wanted to see him, too. Every inch of him. Wanted to drink him in like an expensive vintage.
When she opened her eyes he was staring right at her. She licked her dry lips then tugged at the edge of his t-shirt. “Can I take it off?” she asked him.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice thick and low.
She knew what he was asking. It wasn’t just about the t-shirt, he was asking if she was certain about this. About them. About what might happen if they didn’t stop.
“Yes, I’m sure.” She wanted to see him more than anything else right then. She tugged again and he helped her pull his t-shirt off, revealing his strong, toned torso, illuminated only by the small lamp that glowed from the living room.
She drank him in, loving what she saw. She reached out and felt him. With the tip of her finger, she traced a line from the dip in his throat, down the hard plate of his pectorals, and down each ridge in his stomach. He watched her silently, his body still as she made her progress, his eyes full of questions that he didn’t vocalize. She leaned forward, pressing her lips against his bicep, his shoulder, and then on his throat. He let out a strangled groan that flooded her with warmth.
“Do you like that?” she asked, still kissing his neck, savoring the taste of him.
“God, yes.”
As she moved her mouth up she could feel the roughness of his beard growth against her lips, a stark contrast to his smooth skin. Then her mouth was on his again. As if a switch was flicked, he took back the control and kissed her hard.
She couldn’t stop touching him. Couldn’t stop pressing her palms against his skin. Still it wasn’t enough. Her body ached for more, much more. To feel every inch of him against her. It was only a matter of seconds before his hands were back on her bare skin and she was pulling her own t-shirt off, their bare torsos pressing together. A few more kisses until his fingers were sliding beneath her bra strap, unhooking it until it slid from her arms.
He stared at her, his mouth parted, his eyes as dark as the night. “You’re so beautiful,” he told her, his eyes roaming over her. And she didn’t feel any embarrassment at all. She loved the way he was looking at her, as though she was some angel standing on the beach. “I could stare at you all day.”
A breeze rattled through the cottage, reminding them both that the temperature dipped at night time. It reminded her breasts, too. She shivered and pressed herself against him, craving his warmth. It sent another jolt of electricity through her, the heat pooling between her thighs. He stroked her back with his palms, making her arch against him as he swallowed her low sigh with his mouth. He dipped his hands down the swell of her behind, pulling her closer still until she had no doubt that his need was as great as hers was.
“Should we…” she whispered, her lips still pressed to his, “go somewhere more comfortable?”
“The bed?” he asked, breaking their kiss and tipping his head to the side. The smallest of smiles played at his lips.
“Yes,” she answered, her voice as certain as it had ever been.
Taking her hand, Lucas led her to his beautiful bed, laying her gently on top of the cotton covers. Kneeling over her, he pressed his lips against her shoulder, and kissed his way back down to her tender breasts. His fingers pulled at the buttons of her shorts, opening the waistband and pulling them down until all that was left were her panties. She let out a soft sigh as he brushed his lips down her stomach, then lifted his head to give her a smile.
“You okay?” he asked her.
She nodded. “More than okay.” She felt like she was rising up in the air with nothing to support her. Her skin was tingling, her back arching, and when he pulled off her panties and threw them behind him she felt no embarrassment at all. Just a need that engulfed her whole body in flames.
Lucas slid his warm palms along her legs, his fingers feathering along her inner thighs as he gently pushed them open. Then he lowered his head, his breath hot against her core, the sensation making her toes curl up with delight.
He was ki
ssing her there, right where she needed him, and she let out a moan that echoed through the room. He looked up at her again, desire clouding his eyes, and she reached down to run her fingers in his hair.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered as the pleasure began to build deep inside her, rising up in a wave she never wanted to crash.