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“Oh, thank god. We made it back here in time. It’ll probably last an hour, but it’ll be wicked. It’s the humidity. It was killer the past few days.”
Leon strides past me and goes to open the door but then turns back to me. I raise a brow in confusion. “It’s locked.”
“What?” I drop all the clothes and the hand and try the door. Sure as shit, it’s locked, and the keys I have are inside my bag, which is inside the cabin. “Oh my god, I must have twisted the button on the handle by accident when I came out. Out of habit or something. Shit.” I chew on my bottom lip while Leon’s eyes rake over my half-naked body. The heat of his gaze scorches me on the spot, and I’m no longer worried about the storm. “I can get in through a window later. We’ll pry the screen off. It’s not that hard.”
“Later?”
“Yeah,” I pant, stepping forward and wrapping my arms around Leon’s jacked waist. My voice is thick as soup. “Later.”
He grasps my hips and hauls me up, walking us both back until my back hits the cabin. The wood is kind of rough, but he cushions me with one hand behind my head, keeping me from chafing against it. At this point, I’d happily sign up for a few slivers in my hide if it means we keep doing this—this being kissing the hell out of each other.
I’m his air, and he’s mine. His lips are working their magic, and my hips are pumping against him, working my aching clit against the bulge in his boxers. It’s not enough. I’m greedy, and I’m soaked—spoiler alert, it’s not the lake who’s the culprit—and the friction I’m getting is nowhere near enough.
“Touch me,” I pant. “Get my top off or out of the way. Grab my breasts. Put them in your mouth. Please. Leon. Now.”
His hand gets the top undone, and it falls away, baring my breasts to him. My nipples are puckered, and it’s funny that I never thought I had a lot of feeling in them before because when Leon’s mouth descends on one, suckling the bud, I nearly scream. Oh yeah, that’s feeling alright.
He’s so hard that I can feel him throbbing through the wet, clinging fabric that I’d very much like to tear off him. I put my hand between us, cupping him and curling my fingers around his length. He hisses against my breath. My god, I need to get this man naked. Naked and inside me would be even better. I keep stroking him, and he keeps licking and suckling my breasts and the valley between them.
I need this. I need this so much more than I just need the basic act of sex. I need this with Leon because he’s special. I’ve known it for a long time. It’s more than me wanting to make him feel good. I want to give him this like a promise. A promise he doesn’t want because he already warned me about the commitment and boss thing and the fact that we’re basically strangers, but I’d like it to be a promise of something more. Something amazing. It’s not about deserving it. I just want it to be good because it can be good, and between us, I think there’s something that could be monumental and life-changing for both of us. It’s not just sex. It’s like transcending into another universe where there are happy full moons, raging storms, glittery unicorns, magical orgasms, and two people who are lonely but get each other so that they’re not lonely anymore.
His hands are everywhere, and somehow he’s still holding me up against the cabin. I love the feel of his skin against my bare skin. I love the way the storm is raging right behind us, and I love the storm raging like crazy inside me. I love it even more when Leon lets me down gently and gets on his knees, licking a trail of fire from my belly button all the way down between my legs. The whistling wind hits everywhere his tongue has just been, raising delicious goosebumps on my skin.
“Sometimes, I, uh…I’ve touched myself and thought about you. Not like a lot and just within the past few months.” I seriously sometimes wish I didn’t say the things that come into my brain.
Leon’s head jerks up. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” My face is probably crimson. “Is that bad, or is it hot?”
He considers that, then says, “Probably hot in a bad way.”
“Okay. Can you do hot in a bad way to my pussy?”
“God,” he groans. “Your mouth.”
“What about my mouth?”
“It says the most deliciously naughty things. Tempting things.”
“Can I tempt you to use your fingers?”
I shiver again as I’m pinned to the wall by one hard hand splayed across my belly. Gently. Leon is careful. There is just enough sexy pressure and force to make me feel like a goddess that he can’t resist, but never more than what I want. He punishes me with his mouth until I think I’m going to go insane, and then he inserts two fingers, both at the same time, filling my slick channel. I feel tight around him, stretched to the point of pain but not pushed over it, and I let out a moan that the wind instantly disguises. One stroke, and I’m lifting off my toes. Another stroke, and I’m grabbing his hair. Three strokes, this one inside me, stroking the spot that is kind of uncomfortable but also hecking good when it’s hit just right. Of course, he hits it just right.
That’s all it takes to make me come, and when I come, I feel like I’m back in the lake, back underwater, drowning, but also like I’ve become a fish or a mysterious lake mermaid that can breathe under there. I come so hard that my body feels wrung out, my legs get wobbly, and my brain feels like it’s been turned into mush. I can’t remember my own name, or the date, or anything but Leon.
When I open my eyes, I give him a stare of wonder—the kind of look that, when you look at another person, conveys all your amazement. Not just because I’ve never come that hard or that good before, but because I’ve never met anyone like him. Someone who hides in plain sight.
I’m not going to let him hide again. Not from me.
I kiss him hard, brutally, as soon as I have oxygen again. The way he rocks into me with his sexy groans against my lips and the hardness of him straining against my hip makes me want to unravel all over again. He brings his hand up to my mouth, and I don’t hesitate to take his fingers, sucking the ones he just had inside me. This time, his groan is furious, borderline on edge, and I love every bit of it.
His other hand cups my breast, his thumb teasing the hard nipple. It makes me arch my chest into him, begging for more. I thread one hand through his hair, bringing his mouth back to me so I can taste him, and the other I use to grab his hardness through his boxers.
“Fuck, Darby,” he hisses.
I push the wet fabric down, which probably doesn’t feel comfortable for him. I tear my other hand from his hair and pull and tug in tandem, and his boxers slip down a few inches. Wet boxers are really hard to deal with, apparently. I had no idea. I’m not going to be defeated, though, so I keep pulling and tugging until they’re down his thighs, and they eventually fall off the rest of the way. He doesn’t move. He seems frozen, especially when I curl my hand around his hot shaft. He hisses again, and since I think that’s a good sign, I use my other hand as well. He’s thick and long. Actually, he’s just straight-up freaking epically HUGE in shouting and screaming capital letters. It makes me ache to have him inside me. I’m wet and slippery all over, even down my thighs.
I squirm, trying to slam my legs together to stop the ache, and that’s when I realize my thighs are soaked too. I rock against him, kissing him as if my life depends on it, bringing his hard length to my tight, hot center. I can feel my insides clenching, but they’re clenching around nothing, and that’s all wrong. I need him.
