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He climbed off the lounger, wiping the oil from his hands on a towel, then tugged off the khaki shorts he’d been wearing. His cock was heavy and thick, jutting out proudly from between those muscular thighs. Wyatt took himself in his hand as he kept his eyes on her, stroking the bead of moisture at the tip and spreading it over the head. His mouth curved upward. “Keep sucking your bottom lip into your mouth like that, and I’ll be forced to shove something in there.”
She pressed her lips together, unaware that she’d been doing such a thing. But her mouth was watering at the thought of tasting him again, of having her lips stretched wide around that glorious cock of his. “That wouldn’t exactly be a punishment, sir.”
“You like sucking cock, love?” he asked, his voice going gritty with his own banked desire.
“I like sucking yours.”
His smirk was pure sex. “Good answer. But I’ve got other plans for you right now.”
He moved around the edge of the chair to the table and grabbed what looked to be one of the hotel hand towels. He rolled it lengthwise and then brought it to her mouth. She lifted her brows.
“Bite down, love. It will help you keep quiet.”
She licked her lips, eyeing the towel with trepidation. “I can keep quiet.”
He bent down and kissed her on the nose. “Not if I have anything to do with it. Will you trust me on this or are you saying it’s a limit for you?”
The question held no accusatory tone, it was an honest one. If she didn’t want to, he would never make her. When she’d been kidnapped, Davis had shoved his sock in her mouth and she’d almost choked on her own vomit. The memory was an ugly one—one that flared up on occasion when she’d gag on something. And she hated that it was there.
She would not let it ruin this moment. And maybe, just maybe, doing this with Wyatt could replace the ugly memory with a sexy one. She nodded. “I trust you.”
The pleasure that broke over his expression at her trust was reward enough. He held the towel in front of her mouth and she bit down on it. “Good girl. Can you breathe?”
She nodded.
“Practice spitting it out.”
She opened her mouth, shoved the terrycloth out with her tongue.
He grabbed it, re-rolled it, and put it back in, then let his hand drift down to one of her clamps, circling the sensitive area around it. She rocked into the touch with a muffled moan. “There you go. You can get rid of the gag if you need to. But this way, when I fuck those screams out of you—because, believe me, that’s what I intend to do—you won’t alert the whole island.”
He bent down and followed the path his finger had traced with the tip of his tongue, nearly making her eyes roll back in her head. Then he was on the move again, leaving her bereft without his heat, his touch.r: Roni Loren
But he’d learned the hard way that words scared her. Earlier, she’d agreed to another few weeks with him, and he’d wanted to tell her he didn’t want a time limit on it, but he’d bit his tongue. His few slipups before now had sent her scampering. Words wouldn’t do it. Action. That’s what she couldn’t help responding to. Lucky for her, action was exactly what he had in mind this afternoon.
He pushed the covers aside and climbed out of bed. After a quick trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he pulled on a pair of shorts and went to search for Kelsey. Her key was still sitting on the dresser so he doubted she’d left the cabana. He headed toward the living room, expecting to find her napping on the couch, but the room was empty.
However, when he glanced toward the glass doors that led to their private deck and the view of the beach, he saw a flash of painted toenails peeking off the edge of one of the loungers. Smiling, he made his way across the living room and slid open the door. But what greeted him on the other side of the glass damn near knocked him back inside. Kelsey had her face tilted toward the sky, a pair of big sunglasses and a hat shielding her, and a paperback had been set on a side table. But the hat and sunglasses were all she wore. Laid out in the dappled sunlight that peeked through the surrounding palms, her breathing in the even tempo of sleep, Kelsey was blessedly naked, adorned only by tan lines.
Christ. A rattle of hard, pounding need went through him.
Her skin gleamed golden in the late-afternoon rays, her nipples were hard from the kiss of the breeze coming off the water, and her legs were parted just enough to let him see her pretty pink folds and the lavender base of the anal plug peeking out. He went hard as steel in the space between seconds.
His woman was naughty. So gut-wrenchingly sexy that he didn’t even have words for it. She made him feel like he’d spent his life on some colorless planet, only existing in black and white until she’d stepped into his orbit. And now everything was in color—bright and full and passionate. Unpredictable. Real.
After drinking in the spectacular view for another long moment, he went back inside to grab a few things. When he came back out, she was still sleeping. He set the items he’d grabbed on the table with her book.
Nap time’s officially over, Ms. LeBreck.
* * *
Something tickled Kelsey’s hand, drawing her slowly into awareness. Awareness that she was deliciously warm, that she wasn’t dreaming anymore, and finally that she couldn’t roll over. Her eyelids fluttered open, the sunlight dazzling her for a second before the tall backlit shadow in front of her came into focus. Wyatt.
“You left me in bed alone again, love,” he said, his voice as balmy as the sunshine beaming down on them.
She tried to shift but her arms had been tied above her and secured to the lounge chair. “I couldn’t sleep.” Because I was freaking out. And I could have feelings for you and I needed to get the focus back on the safe side of the playground—on sex. “So I thought I’d surprise you with your suggestion from this morning.”
“Hmm,” he said, his gaze sliding along every bare part of her. “I approve. Though I wish I’d been here for the sunblock application.”
