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A low groan escaped her as she bowed back, thrusting her tender flesh into his palm. He played with first one nipple then the other. Her guttural moans echoed around the quiet cove. She might have been embarrassed, but she couldn’t think about anything but the sweet, vicious darts of sensation arrowing down to pound heavily at her core.
Eventually, he wrenched himself away, leaving her panting.
‘Damn it, I need to see you...’ he demanded, the mocking tone replaced by impatient demand. He wrestled her top off and threw it onto the sand, exposing her to his avaricious gaze.
The warm sea breeze rushed over far too sensitive skin, making her breasts feel heavy and tight.
No man had ever seen her naked to the waist before, and had certainly never studied her bare breasts with such concentration and entitlement. But what she saw in his gaze wasn’t judgement or disdain, it was pure unadulterated lust.
‘Offer them to me,’ he groaned, part plea, part demand.
She cupped the swollen orbs, lifting and caressing them, doing instinctively as he asked. Passion flared in his eyes, before he brushed her hands aside and leant forward to capture one turgid tip in his lips.
He worked the pebbled flesh with his teeth, then trapped it against the roof of his mouth and suckled hard.
She grasped handfuls of his damp hair, held his head to her, pressing into his mouth. The warm weight became heavierbetween her thighs, the drawing sensation reaching all the way into her abdomen.
He transferred the exquisite torture from one breast to the other, while he plucked at the buttons of her shorts with his other hand. The fabric released and dropped to her ankles, then those demanding fingers delved into her panties.
She bucked against his hold, her body a mass of throbbing, aching, painful sensation now. His thumb circled the swollen folds, touching and then retreating, teasing her with a titanic release, which hovered so close, but just out of reach.
She gasped, panting, unable to draw a full breath, riding his hand, desperate for relief. She wanted to demand more, but was unable to speak as the coil at her core tightened, and twisted, becoming painful, and all-consuming.
‘Please...’ She moaned.
‘Please, what? Ask my permission, Milly...’ he coaxed, his voice raw now, no longer teasing, the exquisite unfulfilled desire torturing them both.
She grasped his wrist, rubbed herself against those talented fingers. ‘Give me more.’
He chuckled, but then his thumb centred at the heart of her at last.
With one flick, two, exactly where she needed it, the wave barrelled towards her.
She cried out, and crashed over, plummeting into a huge vat of molten pleasure as the fire raged through her.
As she came down, her knees dissolved. And she heard him grunt as he lifted her into his arms.
Her eyes fluttered open, to find him studying her. Embarrassed heat washed away the afterglow. His fierce expression became hooded, but then he grinned.
He carried her to the small boat, perched on the sand, and deposited her onto the seat.
She sat on the bench, aware of her naked breasts, and the visceral rush still making every inch of her glow. Then her gaze took in the thick ridge in his trunks, which were at her eye level. She assessed the impressive size and girth of his erection.
Her throat dried to parchment.Again.
He’d given her an incredible orgasm, but he hadn’t found release.
She reached out and traced a finger down the length of him through the damp shorts, suddenly desperate to return the favour. Desperate to make him beg, too. And fascinated by the evidence of his desire he couldn’t hide.
Having exposed herself, she needed to regain some of the power. To make them equal somehow, even though she knew they weren’t.
But when she reached up to tug the waistband down, revealing the swollen head of his erection to her greedy gaze, he grasped her wrist and dragged her fingers away.
‘I don’t think so,’ he said, stuffing himself back into his trunks. ‘Not here.’
‘Why not?’ she asked, the throb of need painful again as he covered himself.
‘Because I want to be inside you,’ he said. ‘And for that we need condoms and a bed. Plus, this sailboat is too small to get comfortable on and sex on a beach tends to get sand in all the wrong places—trust me, I know.’
