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I blink, confusion cutting through the fog of desire. “What—”
“I make the rules, Red,” he states, the authority in his tone sending a shiver down my spine. “And you’re going to come right here. In my lap, with nothing but this.” He rocks me against him, the hard ridge of his erection pressing perfectly against my core through our swimsuits. “And my mouth on these perfect tits.”
My breath catches in my throat. The dominance in his voice, the way he’s taking control without apology… Fucking hell.
He’s gone back to guiding my movements against him. The friction is maddening—so close to what I need, yet not enough. His mouth returns to my breast, teeth grazing my sensitive peak before sucking hard enough to make me cry out.
“That’s it,” he growls against my skin. “Let me hear you.”
I’m trembling, caught between his commanding grip and the relentless pressure building inside me. Every roll of my hips sends sparks shooting up and back down my spine, every brush of his mouth against my skin pushing me closer to the edge.
“Beau, I’m—” I can’t finish the sentence, my words dissolving into a desperate moan.
“I know,” he murmurs, one hand sliding up to tangle in my hair again, tugging just hard enough to make my breath hitch. “Show me how you come, Red.”
The control in his voice, the way he’s watching me with those dark, hungry eyes—it’s too perfect. I shatter against him, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash through me.
He holds me through it, his grip steady and sure as I tremble against him. My thighs shake, my body clenching with aftershocks as I come down, panting and dazed. When I finally open my eyes, Beau is watching me with something like wonder mixed with hunger.
“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice ragged. “You’re beautiful when you come.”
The words slip out like he didn’t mean to say them aloud, and I feel a different kind of warmth spread through my chest.
I lean forward, resting my forehead against his. “Your turn,” I whisper, sliding my hand beneath the water.
He catches my wrist, stopping me. “No.”
“What?” I blink, confused. “But—”
He shakes his head once. “If you ever get to see me like that, Red…” His voice drops. “You’ll be earning it first.”
My breath catches, heat sparking in every nerve ending. The promise in his words—not just of pleasure, but of control, of meaning—sinks deep.
He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I’m not just giving that to you. You’ll beg for it. Deserve it. Work for it.”
“That’s not fair,” I whisper, but there’s no real protest in my voice. Because holy shit this is the hottest thing ever. Mr. Hurricane could never.
He smirks, the expression transforming his usually stoic face into something dangerous. “I never said I played fair.”
He lifts me off his lap with an ease that makes my stomach flip. I feel the loss of his heat immediately. It takes every fiber of my being not to pout and beg.
“We should go inside,” he says, his voice rough but controlled again. “Before this goes further than it should.”
I blink at him, still dazed from my orgasm. “What if I want it to go further?”
His jaw ticks, that familiar sign of restraint showing. Instead of answering, he reaches for my bikini top, tying it back around my neck without breaking eye contact. Ever the gentleman, even after making me come in his lap.
The reality of what just happened settles over me. I just had an orgasm. In a hot tub. With Beau Sinclair, who apparently has a dominant streak that just made me see stars.
I watch him climb out of the hot tub, water streaming down his chiseled muscles, his swim trunks doing absolutely nothing to hide how affected he still is. He offers me his hand, and I take it, letting him pull me up beside him.
“You’re not going to get cranky about this, are you?” I ask as he hands me a towel.
His eyes meet mine, that intensity still burning behind them. “Define cranky.”
“Like, avoid me for the rest of the trip. Or pretend it didn’t happen. Or—”
“No,” he cuts me off.
