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“This isn’t a game, Dixon. Shooting, spending time with you. It was all a pleasant distraction, but I need more. A lot more. Take your pants off.”
“Naked in a cave. Fuck me.”
“Might happen if you stop whining.”
He laughs, and that challenging smirk pulls his lips higher.
“Otherwise, what?”
“I’ll take your clothes and hold you here until the tide comes in. Then you can be naked and trapped in a sea cave. Maybe I’ll call the coast guard and they can come rescue your bare ass. Or maybe I won’t. The tides out here are serious, so there’s a chance you might drown if you try to swim for it. A few experienced surfers died close to here just a couple of months ago. Now, come on, I promise this will be fun.”
His pants come off, and he folds and sets them aside next to his shirt.
“Now, what?”
I lower the gun, let it hang loosely by my side, and take a step closer to him. The dim light filtering through the mouth of the cave catches on his skin, outlining every ripple and edge of muscle with a silver sheen.
My hands caress his bare chest, trace the contours of muscle with my fingertips. The warmth emanating from him is so inviting, and I can't help but press myself closer to shield myself from the coolness oft he cave. His lips meet mine, and I kiss him back with desperate fervor.
Then I pull back. To breathe, primarily. And to speak.
"I love you, and I want you," I say, looking up into his eyes. "I want this moment to be ours — no, more than that, I want this to be mine — a break away from all the chaos, all the thoughts in my head, all my worries about just what I’ll find or why this fucking Erik Marquez guy didn’t do the job he was supposed to do. I want this to be about us. Just you and me." I step back even further, turn, and take off my clothes and set them next to his on the floor. "Because this target practice thing… it helped get my head straight, but only for a little while. And not completely. There’s only one thing that really does it.”
“And that is?”
He smirks. He knows. But he wants me to say it out loud.
“I want you to fuck me.”
“You didn’t need to hold me at gunpoint to get that to happen, princess.”
In a split second, I take the gun and fire it at the wall again. Rock shatters, and the furious noise echoes through the depths of the cave.
“You will not use that nickname for me right now, Dixon.” I set the gun back down on the pile of clothes and give him a look that does more to capture his attention than even gunfire. “You’re going to fuck me like you hate me. Make it hard, make it rough. I don’t want to think, or feel, anything else but you fucking me. Can you do that?”
His eyes narrow slightly, the playful edge replaced with an intensity that sends another shiver down my spine—one of raw desire. He steps forward, and his hands find my hips with a grip that promises to leave marks.
"I can do that," Dixon murmurs, his voice low and charged. He forces me against the cool, damp cave wall. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“I took you at gunpoint into an ocean cave where the rising tide could trap us. I think that’s pretty fucking serious, don’t you?”
“And I’m fucking serious about hearing you say ‘yes,’ Alexandra. Because I don’t think you understand the fucking you’re in for. When I’ve got you pinned down, face in the dirt, fucking you like the dirty slut you are, the only thing you’ll be able to do is scream my name. So you better tell me ‘yes’ now, while you can still speak.”
I smile and lightly slap his cheek. “That’s exactly what I want.”
He doesn't waste another moment. His mouth is on mine, his tongue probing, demanding a response. I meet his intensity with my own, my hands pulling at his hair, my nails scratching down his back. The sting of pain only serves to heighten the pleasure.
Dixon lifts me up, his strength surprising me as he pins me against the wall. My legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him deeper. I whimper against his lips, begging for more. He kneels in front of me, lifting my left leg on his shoulder, and he tastes me. His tongue flutters against my pussy, a slow stroke that becomes another, and another, until I am grinding myself needfully against his face.
“More. Hate me. Own me. Fuck me.”
He obliges, plunging a finger inside me.
I gasp, my body trembles with anticipation. After a moment, he adds another finger, stretching me, preparing me for what's to come. Tension, beautiful electric tension, builds inside me.
But Dixon isn't done yet.
“You think I’m going to give it to you that easy?” He growls, then he withdraws his fingers and his tongue, leaving me wanting. He stands. Dixon's hand reaches my chin, tilting it up so our eyes meet. The intensity in his gaze sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through me. "Beg for it. Beg for my tongue, and maybe I’ll let you come.” With one hand holding my eyes on his, the other roams my body, returns to between my legs, teases and fucks me while I quiver and shake on the edge of ecstasy. “I fucking own you.”
