Page 33 of Stranded With the Grumpy Mermaid

“Nothing. That’s the problem.”

Before he can ask what I mean, I push gently at his shoulder until he understands and rolls onto his back. The bed complains beneath him. There is barely enough room for what I have in mind, but I manage to swing one leg over him and settle astride his hips. His cock is hard and throbbing between my legs as I grind my hips over it, spreading all that wetness over the length of him.

Rafe goes completely still. The expression on his face sends a warm, wicked thrill straight through me.

“Neri.”

My name sounds different in his mouth. Rougher.

I brace both palms against his chest. His heart is hammering beneath one of them. His hands come to my hips, warm and strong, but he doesn’t move me. He waits.

I lower myself onto him slowly.

My body is still sensitive from what he just did to me, and the first stretch pulls a shaky breath from my lungs. Rafe’s fingers tighten against my hips. His head drops back against the pillow, eyes closing before opening again to find mine.

“You’re amazing.”

I sink the rest of the way down.

“I know.”

His entire body goes taut beneath me.

For a moment I don’t move. I just sit there with him deep inside me, feeling the heat of him, the pressure, the startling intimacy of looking down and finding Rafael Vasquez watching me as though I am the only thing in the room worth seeing.

Then I rock my hips.

His breath leaves him hard, sharp and fast.

I do it again.

This is different too.

On the beach he led. In this little bed, I choose the rhythm. I choose how fast, how deep, when to slow down and when to take more. His hands stay on my hips, following rather than directing, and every time I move his face gives me another piece of what he usually hides behind that effortless smile.

Want. Pleasure. Something warmer and far more dangerous than the easygoing persona he shows the world.

I ride him slowly at first, learning what makes his fingers flex against my skin, what makes his breath catch, what pulls my name from his mouth.

Apparently a particular roll of my hips does all three.

“Neri.”

There it is again. That deep, rough tone, masculine and raw. I find that I crave it.

I do it once more just to hear him say it. It doesn’t disappoint. The movement sends pleasure building through me again, impossibly soon, my flesh still tender from the first climax. My skin begins to glow beneath his hands, faint pearl at first, then brighter with every rise and fall of my hips.

Rafe watches it spread over me, his expression turning to an almost feral male hunger.

I lean over him, palms flattening on either side of his shoulders, and kiss him. His arms come around me, holding me close while I keep moving, and the angle changes enough that pleasure sparks hard and bright through me as my clit rubs against his shaft.

I break the kiss on a gasp.

“There.”

His hands return to my hips immediately.

“Again?”