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Riley squeezes my thigh underneath the blanket. A familiar warmth flares to life between my legs. “We tackle one thing at a time, Lu. It’ll get done. I’ll make sure of it.”
We. That’s another thing I love about this man—how he makes me feel like we’re a real team in making our dreams come true. I know he’s got my back in the same way I’ve got his.
Such a nice change of pace, having that kind of unconditional support.
It’s also a really huge turn-on.
I slip my hand underneath the blanket and work it across his groin. “Did you pay people to stay off the beach tonight? Because I haven’t seen a single person pass by.”
His eyes go hazy when I press my hand to the bulge in his jeans. “I . . . didn’t?”
“Either you want to fuck me.” I slowly stroke him. “Or murder me. Which one is it?”
His fingers find my throat. “There’s a reason they call orgasms little deaths.”
Beside us, Tom whines in his sleep. I grin. “Kid is conked out. Should we give the little deaths a go?”
“Like you even need to ask.”
I laugh as Riley pulls the blanket over our heads. I can just make out his face in the semi-darkness, the light of the fire permeating the blanket’s buttery fabric. Our eyes meet and the space between us comes alive with desire. Understanding.
This is heaven.
Then he captures my mouth with his, a deep, hungry kiss I feel all the way to my toes. My skin comes alive, my pussy beginning to throb in time to my pounding heart.
I close my eyes and let him lay me down. It’s warm inside our little cocoon, and he unbuttons the front of my sweater, groaning when he slips a hand inside and plays with my breast. Arousal swells between my legs as he massages my nipple, drawing it to a hard, aching point against the lacy cup of my bra.
He pulls the cup down. Ducks his head to kiss my neck, my collarbone. Then sucks my nipple into his mouth. I cry out, rolling my hips. Chuckling softly, he flattens his palm between my hipbones and presses me back down.
The sand shifts beneath the blanket. The ocean roars.
Reminders that we’re on the beach.
A public beach. Riley has a far reach on Bald Head, but even he can’t pay off every single person currently residing on the island.
The idea that we could be caught is an even bigger turn on.
We finally get to have the sex on the beach we’ve talked so much about.
Riley’s already working on my leggings. He tugs them down, going back up to my mouth to bite my bottom lip when he discovers I’m going commando.
“I”—my eyes roll to the back of my head when he slides his fingers into my slit—“had a feeling this might happen. Easier access.”
He groans against my mouth. “If I had known—”
“We wouldn’t have made it through dinner.” I bite him back. Tug at the zipper of his fly as I kick off my shoes and then my leggings.
He plays with my pussy, slipping his middle finger inside me while pressing the heel of his hand against my clit. The friction is glorious. Frustrating too. I rock my hips against his touch, shameless and seeking.
His zipper undone, I tug the button through its hole. I reach inside his briefs and find him hot to the touch, the velvety heat making me shiver.
“I want,” I say.
He wraps his hand around my throat. “You’ll get. But first, you come.”
I’m already close. He thumbs my clit just the way I like. At the same time he gives my throat a squeeze. Bright spots erupt in my vision. The tension in my core becomes unbearable.
He gathers my clit between the knuckles of his first two fingers and gives it a hard, almost painful tug. His other hand moves from my throat to my nipple, tweaking it.
That’s all it takes.
Completion rocks me. Riley climbs on top of me as I come. Next thing I know he’s pressing the head of his dick against my entrance and pushing inside. I’m still coming, and the added pressure makes my orgasm go on for what feels like forever.
He whispers in my ear as he moves ardently over me, fucking me as hard and as ruthlessly as if this were our last night on earth.
You’re so right, he says.
You’re everything.
You’re where I want to be all the time.
And then, just before he comes: “You’re home, Legs.”
I smile. “I love you too, Riley.”
“I love you.” He hangs his head as he fills me in hot pulses. “So fucking much.”
I want to make out for hours when we’re done. But Riley, being the thoughtful boyfriend he is, insists we head back to Dolly so I can use the bathroom.
The guy thinks about UTIs even more than I do. I appreciate that more than words can say.
