Page 17 of Harbor

“All right. Just wanna make sure you’re good before I get you against the edge of this pool, and fuck you. That’s all.”

Well, damn.

How was she supposed to reply to that?

He was too frank for his own good.

“Perfect,” she whispered. “I’m perfect.”

“Fucking right you are.”

Renzo closed what little bit of distance was between them in the pool all at once. His mouth slammed against hers, and she was a fucking goner just like that. All it took was his kiss—hard, demanding and rough. Lips against hers that worked with frenzy and determination to get what he wanted from her. Not that it took long at all for her to respond. She felt the way his tongue struck against the seam of her lips, and already, she was opening up for him.

She liked when he kissed her softly.

Loved when he kissed her deeply.

Lucia craved this, though.

This hungry, brutal kiss that left her without air, made her lips numb, and had her aching between her thighs like nothing else ever had. She didn’t know how it happened, but in a blink, her back hit the edge of the pool in the shallow end. Renzo was already pushing hard against her body, making the water splash over the echoes of their harsh breaths. His hands were all over her. Just when she thought his palms had found one place to focus on driving her insane with their rough touches that she was sure would leave marks, he moved to a new spot altogether.

And then his hands slid down to palm her ass. Firm enough that his fingertips dug into the swell of her backside, and dragged her right up off the soles of her feet. She wrapped her thighs around his waist as he backed her into the edge of the pool again. Pinned like that, the only thing she could think about was how hard this man felt under the water. From the planes of his stomach to the weight of his body pressing against her.

Not to mention, his cock.

God.

The full length of his erection ground against her sex through the sleep shorts she had pulled on earlier. But given they were wet, and all he was wearing were thin boxer-briefs, she swore she could feel every teasing inch of his cock sliding along the seam of her sex with each shift and flex of his hips.

Lucia tipped her head back, staring up at the black, inky sky dotted with stars. She released a hard breath as his teeth skimmed over her jaw, drifted down her throat, and then found her collarbone. His hips punched forward at the same time those teeth of his cut into her collarbone, making her whine.

“Shit,” she mumbled, finding stability by holding onto his shoulders. She’d lost her self-control, really. That, or she just didn’t give a damn when she found herself answering his rolling hips by grinding her own. The rhythm between them was just enough to get her almost to the peak—the orgasm teasing her at the edges of her senses, but not quite crashing down. “Fuck, fuck … fuck.”

“Look at me.”

Instantly, she tipped her head back down, and her gaze locked on his at his dark command. Those lips of his twisted in a smirk as his hands tightened even more on her ass, and he pulled her core even harder against his cock. “You like that, huh? Grinding on my dick like that—could you come, Lucia?”

She sucked in another breath.

Why did it feel like she couldn’t get enough air?

“Probably,” she admitted.

“Too fucking bad for you. I want you on my dick for that, babe.”

That sounded way better.

“Please.”

The groan that fell from his lips would have been enough to take her to the edge of bliss and throw her over it. She was sure of that, more than anything else. Not that Lucia had time to focus on how sexy and dark Renzo looked groaning when she let that pleading whisper escape her mouth. She didn’t.

He moved fast, one of his hands letting go of her backside to fit between them. He had his boxer-briefs tugged down, and his cock freed to his palm. She stared down, watching him fist his length under the water. There was something dangerously sexy about watching a man stroke himself. Something that made her hot in her gut, and aching between her thighs.

“Help me with your shorts,” he grunted.

Like he even needed to ask, frankly.

Lucia didn’t even bother to take the damn things off all the way. He moved back from her and, she shimmied the wet material down her thighs just enough to give him access. The bunched up shorts bit against her thighs once she had them wrapped around his waist again. If she didn’t have bruised along her thighs tomorrow, she’d be lucky.