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Oh, holy shit. Sexy Dom Ryan is in the motherflipping house. And Carly Page and her kitten aren’t leaving to go anywhere.
Ryan
The sound of the waves crashing into the sand fills my ears, and I step back and admire my handiwork—Carly’s breasts peeking out from her opened blouse, her panties and skirt a mere memory on the ground.
I didn’t exactly plan on tearing her clothes to shreds, but fuck, when it comes to her, sometimes I just can’t help myself.
My girl looks so excited she could burst. It’s cute as hell, and normally, I’d be tempted to kiss her, but right now, there’s work to be done.
Bad girls get hot and dirty sex.
“On your knees, sweetheart,” I say, and she doesn’t falter to obey.
She’s a quick learner, understanding that following my instructions during sex always equates to orgasms. And I can imagine she’s expecting me to take out my cock and request she puts her mouth on me, but that’s not tonight’s game.
Tonight is all about anticipation.
Like a lion stalking his prey, I walk behind her, each step calculated and strategic.
I don’t miss the way her breasts move up and down with her rough, audible pants.
“Hands to the ground, sweetheart, and keep your eyes forward.”
She splays her body just as I request, and it’s a fucking breathtaking sight. It takes damn near all my willpower not to fuck her on the spot, but I keep my focus on prolonging this, on holding out until I’m certain I will achieve the end goal—giving Carly an earth-shattering orgasm.
Slowly, I unzip my jeans and watch as she wiggles her hips a little in frustration at the sharp, identifiable sound that crests over the background noise of the ocean.
Once my pants rest loosely on my hips and my cock is pulled free from my boxer briefs, I slide on a condom and stroke myself to the sight of her a few times.
“You look so damn amazing, splayed out and waiting for me. God, Carly, just looking at you like this makes me so fucking hard.”
Her body reacts accordingly, hips moving, thighs rubbing together, and hot little whimpers sliding from her lips.
Damn. It doesn’t get any better than this.
It doesn’t get any better than her.
With two hands, I slide her blouse up so it rests at her shoulders and proceed to gently skate the tip of one index finger down her back. I don’t stop there, though. No. I let that finger drift across her skin, over her perfect ass, down the backs of her legs, and I don’t change up the direction until I reroute toward the apex of her thighs.
When I have one finger inside her, she moans, and I have to shut my eyes for a brief moment over just how wet and ready she feels.
It’s just her and me, in the middle of the night, on this beach, hidden back inside a little alcove away from the hotel.
No one is around, but still, the fact that we’re doing this right here… Well, it just might be one of the wildest things I’ve ever done.
But I’m finding that this is what Carly brings out in me.
She gets me to let loose, to give in to desires, to not overthink.
With her, I can actually live in the moment.
The anticipation and sexual tension grow tight like a rubber band. And between the two of us, we’re both breathing heavily enough that the sounds of each of our inhales and exhales overpower the sounds of the ocean.
No longer able to hold out, I kneel behind her and grip her hips in my big hands.
Then slowly, oh so slowly, I slide inside her one pleasurable inch at a time.
A deep, guttural moan rasps from Carly’s throat, and it makes me lose all control.
My hands don’t move based on choices or decisions or wants. They move based on visceral, carnal, undeniable need.
My fingertips pulse into the skin on her hips as I shove her flesh away from my own quickly, the cool breeze from the ocean whispering over the wet warmth of our connection, and a shiver ripples so powerfully down Carly’s spine that her thighs squeeze almost violently.
I slide my hands along her perfect skin, up and around to the innermost cushion of her thighs and shove them back open.
“Ryan,” she groans, greedily, wracked again by the bluster of the outdoor air.
“Leave them open, Carly,” I command softly, fingertips dancing across newly exposed skin.
“I don’t think I can,” she denies, her breathing a sharp pant.
“You can and you will.” Using action as my punctuation, I slam our bodies back together, seating myself so deep inside her, her entire body vibrates with the impact. “Feel me,” I order, pulling back out and moving roughly to fill her again.
Words catch in her throat, and breaths turn to pants as I repeat the two motions over and over and over again.
