I tangled my hands in his hair right as he hooked his hands beneath my thighs and lifted me without breaking the kiss. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist and shivered when I felt the hardness of his arousal against my stomach.
I didn’t care much for sex. My previous experiences with it had been lackluster, and I only did it because I held onto hope that one day, I would understand what all the fuss was about.
But at that moment, the only thing I could think about was whether Christian was as skilled in bed as he was with his fingers.
When I tell you to scream, I want you to fucking scream. Or I’ll bend you over and spank your ass raw until you beg me to let you scream.
The memory of his words spread liquid fire through my veins.
He swept his tongue along the seam of my lips, demanding entry again, and I granted it. A sigh of pleasure drifted from my mouth to his when his thumb caressed my nape and he devoured me so thoroughly that I didn’t know where I ended and he began.
He tasted like heat and spices, a combination so addictive I could easily spend the rest of my life consuming him and only him.
A sting of pain sharpened the pleasure when he nipped my bottom lip and smiled at my surprised gasp.
“You asked for a kiss, Stella.” Christian’s rough voice scattered tingles through my stomach. “This is how I kiss.”
The words touched my skin like open flames.
I drew his bottom lip between my teeth. Gently tugged. And released.
“Just the way I like it,” I said.
His resulting groan brought a smile to my face. I normally wasn’t this bold, but I loved the idea that I could make Christian Harper lose control.
“You’re going to be the death of me.” He lifted one hand and rubbed a thumb over my cheek, his eyes darkening as the shadows rose to the surface. “You never should’ve let me kiss you, Stella. Because one taste isn’t fucking enough.”
His words and the touch of his gaze warmed me more than the tropical sun. “Who says it has to be one?”
He let out another groan before he kissed me again, hungrily and thoroughly, like a man starved.
The delicious slide of his tongue against mine renewed the ache between my legs, and everything fell away except for the heat of his skin, the race of my heart, and the firmness of his touch.
I’d never wanted someone as much as I did Christian, and the press of my bare breasts against his torso made me all too aware of the choice I’d made when I dropped my arms for him.
Risk over safety. Desire over comfort.
No regrets.
It wasn’t the dirty words or sinful desires. It wasn’t the way he’d fucked me with his fingers or wrapped his hand around my throat.
It was the kiss and the way it made me feel, like I could be the truest version of myself.
I sighed with pleasure at the skilled command of Christian’s mouth.
I could’ve stayed there forever, wrapped up in his arms on a secluded beach, but the air eventually cooled and the setting sun cast long shadows over our bodies.
“What time is the wrap party?” he murmured.
The question penetrated the fog in my mind.
Shoot. I’d almost forgotten about the Delamonte wrap party that night. “Um…” I searched for the answer through the haze. “Eight.”
“It’s almost seven.” Christian stroked his thumb over my hip. “We should head back soon.”
“Right.” I tried to hide my disappointment as he set me on my feet.
“You must love that dress,” he said as I pulled on my swimsuit and threw the dress I’d worn to the shoot over it. The white lemon-print cotton piece was one of my favorites. “You’ve worn it five times since spring began.”
My breath fluttered in my chest before it whooshed out in a surprised exhale. “I didn’t realize you noticed what I was wearing.”
“I notice everything about you.”
There were no fluttering breaths this time. There were no breaths at all, only a smile that couldn’t be contained and a light-headed giddiness that would’ve lifted me straight off the ground had Christian’s presence not tethered me to his side.
I didn’t respond, but the high followed me back to our hotel.
However, once I started getting ready for the wrap party, the giddiness gradually dissipated, leaving a void for my doubts to crawl in like scavenging insects.
I’d kissed Christian.
Christian, my fake boyfriend.
Christian, the man who’d told me straight out he didn’t believe in love.
Christian, who set my heart on fire even as a voice in my head warned that the fire could destroy me from the inside out if I wasn’t careful.
Not only had I kissed him, I’d asked him to kiss me after I let him bring me to orgasm on a beach during a work trip.
What have I done?