Perfect for the Beach (17 page)

Great, his ass was probably lily white next to his tanned back. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut and enjoy her? He pulled away from her breast. “I bet I look like the Coppertone kid, don’t I?”

Sara urged his head back down over her breast, none too gently. She wiggled against his immobile hand. “Hardly. Kids are cute. You’re just … impressive.”

For that, she could have his finger back. Kyle sank into her, using only up to his knuckle, grabbing her ass with his free hand to hold her tight against him. “Is that far enough?”

“No.” Her damp hair rubbed back and forth on his shoulder. “Deeper. Please.”

He’d be happy to. He went as far as he could before pulling back, then repeated the movement. Again and again, only breaking to massage her clitoris on occasion, feeling the tightness of her inner muscles as she grew closer and closer to a climax.

When he added another finger, Sara arched against him, her body rigid. Her breath came in frantic little pants. “Don’t move,” she begged. “I don’t want to … yet.”

“Don’t want to what?” He waited a heartbeat, then stroked slow and deep, stretching his fingers inside her where she was tight and wet and ready to come.

With a little shake of her head, she tried to move away from him.

He followed her, stalking her, holding her flush against him, moving faster, sliding out one finger to saturate her clitoris with the warm fluid of her desire. “Don’t want to what?”

“I don’t want to …” Sara went still, then jerked in his arms. “Come, oh God.”

Oh yeah. Kyle’s cock throbbed against her leg as he watched the beauty of her orgasm, the way she shuddered and mewed and clung to him, her eyes lifted up to the ceiling. He kept moving, holding, pleasing her until her inner muscles stopped trembling and she collapsed on his chest, her cheeks flushed and her forehead dewy from exertion.

She was gorgeous, and nothing was going to make him move until she did. He wanted her so bad that every damn naked inch of him was pulsing and throbbing, but he wasn’t going to make one move until she moved first. Sara was so incredible, he wondered for a split second if he was dreaming, then dismissed it. If he were dreaming, he would have already spilled on his sheets.

“Kyle.” Sara looked up at him, her chin still pressing into his chest.

“Yeah?” He was a little nervous. She’d told him to stop stroking inside her and he hadn’t. It was possible she’d be pissed at him.

“Go get the condoms out of my bag and then lie down. It’s my turn.”

Whoa. Not only did she not sound angry, she had a bit of bossy in her voice. He liked it.

“Whatever you say.” He set her on her feet and searched around the room for her bag.

The room was functional at best, ugly at its worst. Cement and cinder blocks, orange life vests, and a damp moldy smell. Man, this was rough. Sara deserved better, and he felt pangs of guilt. Digging through her bag on the floor, he glanced at her over his shoulder.

Her hands were up in her hair again, in the very pose that had coaxed him into touching her in the first place, only now she didn’t even have the tiny bikini bottoms on. She looked hungry. For him. Quickly he found the condoms and dumped the rest of the bag’s contents on the floor, intending to spread the bag flat. They’d need everything they could get for protection on this floor.

Of course, there was always standing up.

Kyle opened the heavy steel outside door a couple of inches, the warm wind and rain immediately rushing in. Privacy didn’t concern him. The wind was howling and the beach was probably deserted, so that no one would discover them. And it took the air-conditioned chill out of the room.

He spread Sara’s sarong beneath his T-shirt and crushed her bag flat. Then he lay down with Sara still standing over him, the condoms in his hand, and reached for her, curious to see exactly what she planned to do with him.

Sara wasted no time in dropping down as she held his hand. She spread her legs as she tumbled into his lap so that he briefly had a mouthwatering view of satin thighs, blond hair, and the shadows of her backside viewed from between her legs.

Damn.
He was paralyzed watching that. Good thing she was coming to get it, because he couldn’t move.

Sara ripped the condoms out of his hand, tore one open and rolled it on, her breasts dangling over him, enticing him to move. He reached out and pinched a nipple, and she gave a convulsive squeeze on his cock as she finished with the condom.

She said, “You want these?” and abandoned his cock to cup her breasts.

Yeah, he did want her breasts, her nipples. Hell yeah. But the sight of her with her hands on herself, caressing lightly, with no encouragement from him, was worth holding off for a minute or two.

Or five seconds. Damn, he couldn’t hold out any longer, which was pathetic, but he didn’t care. “Bring them to me.”

Sara leaned over, her hair falling across his chest, and braced one hand on the floor. With the other she reached down between them and stroked his cock before rubbing the length of him back and forth on her clitoris. Her nipple danced in front of his mouth and he reached out and caught it with his lips and sucked hard, enjoying the sweet, salty taste of her.

Then aching so bad he hurt, he grabbed her other breast, squeezed them together, and flicked his tongue across both nipples, growing desperate as she teased his cock between her folds.

He hadn’t been prepared for Sara to so confidently take what she wanted, but then again, since the minute he’d grabbed her firm, almost-naked body in the ocean, he’d just been along for the ride, unable to resist her.

She was sluicing him up with her moisture so she could play some more, and she was teasing the shit out of both of them. They panted in perfect accord, and when she went a little too deep in her game, Kyle nudged upward inside her.

Her knees fell out and Sara sank down onto him with a groan. Kyle couldn’t breathe. Damn. He abandoned her breasts to lie back and concentrate on not coming.

But she was so tight, narrow, her sex similar to the rest of her slim body in that regard. She was squeezing him with trembling muscles, accepting him more fully as she pushed farther, gripping his chest until her clitoris was pressed against him, pulsing.

Kyle fought not to move, to let her continue to lead, and marveled at how beautiful, how flushed she was. Sara bit her lip and stroked up and down, never really going that high, but letting him fill her more fully each time.

One, two, three strokes, her hands stealing back up to her breasts to cup her nipples, and at the sexy sight of that, Kyle couldn’t do it. He couldn’t just lie there and take it anymore—he wanted his turn. He had to take her.

In one swift motion, he sat up and turned her so she landed flat on her back, his hand behind her, protecting her bare flesh from the hard floor. Green eyes stared up at him, stunned.

They were still joined, but barely, and he restrained himself for another second, swallowing hard. He said, “Pretend this is romantic, Sara. Pretend we’re lying on the hot sand and the sun is setting behind us.”

But she shook her head. “I don’t need to pretend. I like it just the way it is. Can’t you tell?” She licked her lips. “Make me come again, Kyle. Please.”

As if she needed to beg. “Gladly.”

Kyle nudged just a little deeper so he wouldn’t slip out, drawing a murmur of approval from her. He took the soft flesh of her thigh and crossed her right leg over her left, turning her up onto her side a little, and allowing him a nice view of her rounded cheeks rising in front of him. Not to mention it spread her thighs in a way that gave him a delicious glimpse of her lips, swollen and wet, pink and ready for him, his cock poised in her opening.

Her arms fluttered over her head, her chest rising rapidly. She whispered in excited shock, “This is different.”

“This is good. Trust me.” Then he thrust hard, forgetting the floor was concrete, forgetting that he hadn’t meant for it to go this far, forgetting everything but the way he filled her body, the sensation so pleasurable a sweat broke out all over his body.

This was more than good, it was unreal, and he knew that he could not let her walk away, not after she had done this to him. This shattering, possessive, gut-wrenching feeling of pleasure that ripped through his body and made him thrust harder still.

Sara arched her back as Kyle went deep, the unexpected position giving her heightened sensation. She shouldn’t have worried about coming again. It was inevitable with him moving fast, his hands splayed on her thigh and backside, holding on as he pumped hard, and she lay there, taking it.

There was no way to move, no need to move. With each of his movements, he slid fully into her, his torso bumping her clitoris, sending shivers through her. She felt lethargic, blissful, already sated, yet rushing toward another orgasm. Each stroke was a little rougher, a little more out of control, a lot more urgent, and Kyle’s eyes locked with hers.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he said, jaw clenched.

That was the look she had been wanting. The look she had come to the beach to find, a man who wanted her. He had it. That was raw, painful, desperate want, all over Kyle’s face, in each of his pushes inside her, and in the fierce way his hands gripped her hip for leverage.

It made her come.

Sara bunched the T-shirt underneath her as she exploded, calling out in a voice so loud they could probably hear her in Georgia. Northern Georgia. With their windows closed.

Which made him come.

Kyle murmured, “Shit, Sara,” before his eyes screwed up tight with his own explosion.

She knew the feeling. As his orgasm continued to rip loose, so did hers, and they were both straining and squeezing and moaning together, the sweet smell of their desire between them, and a thin sheen of sweat glistening on Kyle’s bronze chest.

This was worth two years of zero action. It was all gone and forgotten in a single instant of screaming satisfaction.

Loosening her death grip on the shirt, Sara fell back, catching her breath, watching Kyle slowly open his eyes and look her over, up and down. He let go of her thigh and buttock, and stroked across her skin gently, making low growls of approval in the back of his throat. His weight was heavy resting against her, but a good heavy. Solid, man heavy.

He made a motion to pull back, and she fluttered a hand out. “No, just stay still for a second.”

“Whatever you say, sweet Sara.”

His obedience wasn’t complete, though. While he kept himself firmly inside her as their breathing settled down, after a minute he moved his hand off her waist and maneuvered it between her thighs. When he stroked her engorged nub, pinching lightly, it hurt just a little but at the same time set her gasping with renewed desire. Kyle ducked his thumb down, sliding it into her alongside his penis, which was only partially erect.

“Oh, what are you doing?” she gasped.

It was obvious what he was doing—he was turning her on all over again. But that she could be spread sideways like this, with both him and his thumb inside her, both shocked and thrilled her.

Kyle brought his thumb, slick from her want, back up to her clitoris and swirled over it, around and around, sliding down between her folds, teasing her, then back up again. Sara whimpered, felt him growing harder inside her, felt the unbelievable sensation of a third orgasm getting ready to rock her.

A third.

Her yearly quota in one afternoon.

He bent over and blew on her nipples, hot forceful breath, and his thumb did those interesting little massage therapist moves. Stroke, stroke, pull.

Oh God.

Kyle couldn’t get enough of Sara. Now that his cock was swelling again, he knew he shouldn’t push his finger in there, but he couldn’t help wanting to. She squirmed, she wiggled around on the floor beneath him, she gave little sighs of approval and tried to lift her leg to spread herself wider.

He couldn’t resist that. Didn’t want to try. Giving one last swipe over her folds, he slipped into her and slowly thrust both his half-hard cock and finger deep, gritting his teeth at the snug fit, wondering if he had gone too far. He paused to read her reaction.

Sara trembled under him, then lifted off the ground in a shattering orgasm, answering his question in the best possible way. He started moving with languid strokes, watching her cheeks pinken with exertion, her eyes unfocused and dark, her breasts firm little mounds turned invitingly toward him.

“What was that for?” she said after several long seconds. She settled back down, pulling a stray strand of hair out of her mouth.

“I just wanted to watch you come again.”

She smiled, lying limp. “Did I look the way you wanted?”

The stuff of fantasies. That’s what she looked like. And yes, he wanted.

“Best damn thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Kyle?”

“Hmm?” He slowly withdrew from her, his leg muscles complaining as he eased back.

“I like dating you.”

Chapter Five