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“Whiskey.” I softly smile up at him.
He shakes his head and takes the glass from me and turns to set it on the table behind him. It’s not? “See, I thought it was whiskey too.” When he turns, an intense flare flickers in his gaze, sending shivers of desire through my belly. “But you’ve ruined me. My thirst for whiskey now has only one taste. You.”
His mouth slams to mine, devouring my lips. I match the movements of his tongue and he hums in approval, churning a need to make him want me more. Heat blankets my skin, an incessant ache building between my legs. His hands grip my ass through the thin cotton material of my dress, pulling me into his hard chest and I grind my hips against him. A growl vibrates in his mouth.
“Mmm, sugared whiskey.”
I tilt my head, trying to take back control of my senses and figure out what he’s saying. “What?”
“My new addiction,” he rasps and blows out a low whistle as he takes in the full length of my body. “You’re like my two addictions rolled up in one, five-foot-two, body of perfection.”
I didn’t want to drink in his professed attraction, but my mind soaks it in, getting dizzy-drunk on it. My fingers play with the edge of my dress and his brow quirks up in anticipation. He watches as I slide the cotton up over my head, dropping the dress next to us. The soft breeze pebbles my bare, sensitive nipples. He doesn’t look away this time.
“You’re a fucking exotic goddess,” he growls, ravaging my body with his stare. I step close to him and run my fingers up his muscular abs. His muscles tighten under my touch. As if afraid to touch me, he grabs my hand instead and leads me to the private pool on his deck. Step by step we immerse our bodies into the warm water. Once we’re both on level ground, he turns and picks me up. I wrap my legs around his narrow waist and he walks backward until his legs hit the underwater bench. When he sits down, his hardness hits my sensitive area and I shudder.
He rubs his face with a wet hand as if in agony and pulls in a ragged breath. “Giving in to an addiction can prove disastrous.”
I’m not sure what he has to worry about. This is all an illusion to him, he’ll leave this island and forget about me when he returns to his reality. But this is my life. I’m the one who should be terrified.
I cup his jaw. “What are you afraid of?”
“This ineffable feeling.” My lips part, surprised by the depth of his words. His enormous hands encircle me, one at the nape of my neck, the other at the small of my back. Everything aches to be closer, yet the space between us is miniscule.
My tongue darts out, wetting my dry lips. He watches with greediness, and I swallow the lump of need swelling in my throat.
Kiss me, damn it.
“I won’t be able to stop this time,” he warns.
I take it as a promise.
“Are you expecting a touchdown?”
A wicked grin plays on his lips. “More like winning the game.”
“Then you better start playing.”
The encouragement works. His lips slam to mine. The hint of whiskey assaults my taste buds as he thoroughly explores my mouth. And when he’s done with that, he moves to my neck, nibbling and licking.
His hand moves down, over my ass, and I rock my hips against him. When his fingers glide on the edge of my panties, I hum in delicious agony. I lift on my knees, practically begging. His mouth takes my breast.
Fingers move my panties aside and play with my slick entrance. But in the next second, they stop.
Everything stops except our heaving chests.
He stands with me still in his lap. “Whiskey, I need you in bed. I need to taste you.”
Without drying off, he throws me on the bed, ripping off my panties. He lowers his shorts and his hard cock springs free. I definitely didn’t dream how big it was. Soft kisses tickle my skin as he works up to my breasts, only to retreat south again. This time, he stops at my sensitive nub. I gasp as his tongue flicks it.
“What are you doing?” I squeal, pushing up on my elbows and moving my pelvis away from his face. He stares up at me with his crooked smile and raised eyebrows. My cheeks heat, a mixture of embarrassment and desire.
“Have you never—”
I let out an awkward laugh. Are we really having this conversation? “I’ve had sex before, if that is what you’re about to ask.”
But that’s not what he was doing with his tongue.
He chuckles. “Has no man ever worshiped you?” I sink back onto the bed, covering my face with my arm, morbidly embarrassed. I don’t understand what he’s talking about. I’ve been with four men and three were foreigners. The boy from here was my first and there was no worshipping anything. More like relief when it was over.
