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20
Bella
His lips are perfection. His hands are magic. I’m drowning—not in the pool he’s still waist-deep in, but in him. All of him. Every cocky, self-assured, stubborn, sexy, competitive part of him. I knew he would destroy me, but not within the first five minutes of having his sole attention on my bare skin.
Grabbing the hem of my shirt, he slides it up my body, having to pluck away the fabric that’s suctioned to my skin. Anyone who thinks this is sexy hasn’t tried to rip wet clothes off a body they’ve been craving for months.
My hands dip along the grooves of his abs. “So no body double then.”
“Or airbrushing,” he murmurs, his lips moving down my neck. “After seeing your body, I suggest you try my tactic too.”
He skips past my collarbones, latching his teeth onto a nipple. My hands slide to the back of his head and I desperately want to collapse back onto the concrete, but then he couldn’t reach me. So I use all my energy to stay upright and watch him devour my breasts while he looks up at me through those long, dark lashes of his.
He’s so damn gorgeous, it’s unfair. I expected him to have a go-to set of moves for what works with the women he’s been with. But he watches me to see what I enjoy, cataloging it and putting the knowledge to good use. His tongue swirls like my tightened peak is an ice cream cone. His teeth scrape, bite, and suck, his eyes on my face the entire time.
This is not who I thought Carm would be. I thought he was a taker—turns out he gives as good as he takes.
God, I’m going to be knee-deep in Kleenex one day when this all crashes down, but I’ll enjoy it for the moment.
“Let’s move to the lounger.” He doesn’t wait for an answer but picks me up and trudges through the water, up the stairs, then lays me down on the large lounger by the corner of the pool so that we face the ocean.
He straddles me as my fingers continue to memorize his chest—the strong pecs and biceps, the thin trail of hair below his belly button, and the deep V carved above his hip bones. He pulls the built-in canopy up from behind the lounger to block our view of the house. Thankfully, no one should be out on the beach right now with the storms, even if the thunder and lightning has abated for now.
His hands slide down my body, and I raise my ass to help him strip me down.
“I can’t wait to finally find out,” he says as he pulls my underwear down my legs.
My brows draw together, and he laughs. Once I’m fully naked, he stands at the foot of the lounger, a satisfactory grin on his face while he stares between my legs.
“Did you think I dyed my hair?”
“No, but I wanted to know for sure. A real redhead.”
I giggle, my head falling back into the wet cushions. “Surprise.”
But when he takes off his pants and boxer briefs, I lick my lips, needing him inside me. He’s thick and long and hard. If I’m honest, I’ve never been a huge fan of the male anatomy, but if every guy was built like Carm, I might become the founding member of the “I love cock” fan club.
I’m desperate to feel the weight of him over me, but he positions himself between my legs, his palms skimming along my inner thighs and parting them.
“Carm,” I sigh for what feels like the millionth time since his lips landed on mine.
“I’ve waited a long time for this.” He kneels at the end of the lounger, pulling me down to him, and positions my legs over his shoulders.
He leans in, and his tongue swipes over my slit and up to my clit.
“Ohhh…. ahhhh…” My fingers dig into his thick dark hair.
I was wrong before. It’s his tongue that’s magical. It can do things I never even imagined. I squirm a few times and he chuckles into my center, knowing he’s tormenting me with small bites to my clit before sucking it into his mouth. When his hand leaves my hip, I anticipate his fingers inside me, but he makes me wait for it. It’s unbearable, and maybe that’s why it seems like a lifetime later before he thrusts one finger into me, quickly adding another.
I scream, grinding my center along his face. I prop up on my elbows, needing to see him, and there he is watching me again, judging and appraising his performance. The lust and the desire in his eyes unglues any resolve I had, and my fingers grip whatever hair I can get my hands on. I buck forward, screaming his name as I come.
He slows his movements, removes one finger then another while stars line my vision and my head falls back to the cushions again.
It’s not until my body and my mind come back to Earth that I’m aware of the rain pelting my skin.
He climbs on top of me and stares at me. “Damn, that’s the way I like to hear you say my name.” He laughs, his tip poised at my center.
I circle my hips, wanting his girth deep inside me. “Wait!” I press my hand on his chest. “Condom?”
