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I’m tearing at his shirt, trying desperately not to break us apart. Finding his hard stomach, I run my palms along the tight muscles, up to his chest, loving the way he quakes at my touch. As if he’s attuned to my body’s needs, he grasps my thighs, inching my dress up as he roams my skin. All the while pulling me down harder against him.
The rough material of his jeans rubs against my clit as his arousal grows, hardening against me with each thrust. It’s so frenzied. My hands in his hair, then back to his chest. His sliding farther up until he’s pushing the bikini top aside and cupping my breast.
Turning his head to the side with a harsh curse, he breaks the kiss, his breaths releasing in rapid pants. “Jesus,” he says.
But I’m nowhere near ready to stop. I’m at his neck, kissing and licking, losing myself in the masculine smell of his cologne. He pulls away, forcing me back by my shoulders. “Hell... Ari. Wait. Are you drunk?”
I can’t help it, I laugh. Then shake my head. “No.” And it’s the truth—unless he counts being drunk on him. Whatever buzz I had from the vodka has burned through my veins, replaced by scorching heat, my blood boiling.
He blinks hard. “I’m about to lose my shit.” He swallows, the knot inching up his throat.
That…is the sexiest thing a man has ever said to me. I’m all but attacking him again. It’s like years of pent-up frustration and disappointment unleashed. Ari gone wild. But he’s pulling back again.
“Seriously…” He makes me look into his eyes. “You have got to stop. I’ve never felt this out of control before. Just…I need a minute.”
“Why?” I lick my lips, tasting him on me, watching his gaze follow the path of my tongue. “I’ve spent far too much time analyzing every move before I make it. And I don’t want to do that right now, Ryder. You said whatever I could offer…” I
trail off, not knowing how to express this without sounding like a complete, sex-starved moron. “I want you. I don’t want to overthink it. Not anymore.”
His breath slips past his lips on a shaky exhale. “Fucking say that again.”
My eyebrows pull together. “I don’t want to—”
“No. The other.”
I inhale deeply. “I want you.”
The words have barely hit the span of air between us before he’s captured the last one with his mouth. I reel back from the impact, but rebound on him just as forcefully and greedy. All reservation has flown, evaporated, like the mist coming off the ocean.
We fall back, Ryder lowering us to the ground, keeping me atop him. My knees dig into the sand as I bear down, getting as close to him as our bodies allow. And as he moves to my neck, kissing a fiery trail along the column of my throat, his rough hands make quick work of the buttons on my dress. He pushes the material open, and I lift up just long enough to pull his tee over his head; our exposed skin makes contact.
Then his mouth is on mine.
Ryder shifts his jacket along the sand, then rolls me on top of it. He gazes down, tracing my body with his eyes, the passion consuming us ablaze in his intensely blue irises. He presses hard against me, eliciting a moan from my mouth, and he curses sharply.
“I want you. So badly it hurts,” he breathes against my neck.
I understand completely. The ache between my thighs pulses painfully each time he thrusts, our clothes an annoying barrier between us. “Take off your pants,” I whisper.
He groans again, more audibly. “Not like this…”
“Exactly like this,” I say. When he looks at me, I reiterate, “No regrets.”
He kisses me. I have no idea what’s going through his mind, what he now thinks of me—but I kill that insecure part of my brain. Just shut it down. As he reaches into his pocket, I wrap my legs around his waist, giving him enough room to maneuver, but refusing to let him go. Then I run my hand along his chest, his stomach, his jeans, until I find the clasp of his fly.
I feel his unsteady gasp against my mouth as I work the zipper open and take him into my hand. A delicious shiver trills through me at the feel of him—hard and hot in my grasp. Anticipation thrums through me with alarming need, the unguarded desire to feel the full length of him inside me, filling me.
With sure, deft movements, he soon has a condom in his hand, and is wriggling off his jeans. I help by running my feet down his legs. I don’t want a second of hesitation to creep over us—no time to question our actions. I only want to be lost in him.
Forcefully, and without warning, he captures my arms and pins them above my head, pressing my wrists into the sand as his body covers mine. His lips bruise mine with demanding need as his fingers trail a scorching path down my arms. They don’t stop their pursuit until they’ve reached my underwear. I suck in a breath against his lips.
I’m relieved he doesn’t ask me again if I’m sure—that he just grips the thin material and slides it down my thighs. Freeing me of the desperation that will surely be in my voice if I have to confess how badly I want him—need him to take me in every way.
His mouth goes to my chest, one hand massaging my breast as he sucks a nipple into his mouth. I’m climbing, the feel of him rubbing against my clit, sliding between me…not yet with the condom. Skin licking skin. The warm pulse intoxicating me.
“You’re so wet…” he whispers against my mouth. “You feel so damn good, Ari. I could do this, right here, forever.” He pulls back enough to look into my eyes, and his show with hunger. His body trembles with restraint. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted you…just like this? How much you’ve invaded my every thought?”
I shake my head against the ground, my throat tight with emotion. Every time he moves against me, I’m tempted to lift my hips—just a fraction to let him drive right in.
