Perfect for the Beach (5 page)

She shied away—but he drew her right back. “I want to see you, Nora. All of you. And I want you to see me.”

“You do?”

Trying to curb the drumming of lust, he said, “Of course I do. I’ve dreamed of seeing you naked.”

Heat flared in her cheeks. “But you want me to see you, too?”

See me, touch me, lick me …
He groaned. “Yeah.”

“Oh.”

He cleared his throat. “I want you to want me.”

“I do.”

Thank God. He angled closer, reached behind her, and slowly unhooked her bra top. The cups loosened from her breasts. He untied the string around her neck and the bathing suit top fell between them. Cary pulled it away and dropped it to the carpet. He couldn’t breathe. Her breasts were …well, they were Nora’s breasts, soft and pale, her nipples puckered tight. He bent and drew one into his mouth, sucking gently.

With pleasure as much as embarrassment, Nora gasped. Her hands settled in his hair, tangled there, held him tight. Cary spread his hands wide over her back to keep her close. Her skin was cool in the air-conditioned interior, soft and sleek. He spanned her waist, her hips. Gliding his fingers into her trunks, he pushed them off her rounded bottom, then went to one knee and tugged them the rest of the way down her legs.

Bad move.

He was now eye level with her belly, or more importantly, her soft pubic curls. She was still damp from the swim. Her scent was delicious, making him want so much more, far too soon.

She pressed her thighs tight together and covered herself with her hands.

Hoarse, Cary said, “Step out of your bottoms.”

She did, awkwardly, her limbs stiff, her hands still shielding her from his gaze. Seeing her hands there just brought about a ton of sexual fantasies. He should have stood back up at that point, but he couldn’t. He cupped her bare, plump bottom, kneaded her for a moment while he argued with himself—and lost.

He leaned forward and kissed her knuckles.

“Cary.”

Holding her close, he used his tongue to trace between her fingers, down, back up, flicking just a bit over the middle knuckle of her right hand. He wished she’d part her fingers just a bit, maybe let him …

She stumbled back against the mattress.

In a red haze of lust, Cary stood and looked at her. She now had one hand covering her left breast, the other hand over her sex, and he was so hard he could have been lethal. Holding her gaze, he shoved his clinging wet boxers down and off, then kicked them away. He straightened, letting her look her fill.

She nearly went cross-eyed as she stared fixedly at his face.

“Look at me, Nora.”

After a few breaths to shore her up, her gaze darted to his erection for a two-second peek. But apparently that didn’t suffice, because her attention shot downward again, where it lingered and warmed. Her lips parted.

Hoarse, Cary murmured, “Let me feel you.” He removed her glasses and set them on the nightstand, then carried her trembling hands to his shoulders. This time when he pulled her into his arms, there were no barriers. Flesh to flesh, heartbeat to heartbeat. Her nipples rubbed his ribs, her thighs shifted against his. His swollen cock nudged against her silky belly.

He felt cocooned in her softness, her musky female scent, her timidity and sex appeal. He closed his eyes and pressed his face into her throat, overcome with emotions he’d never dealt with before. He wanted to ravish her. He wanted to absorb her into himself.

He had to keep his head to ensure she enjoyed this. He wanted her to see how wonderful their lovemaking would be. He wanted her to crave more, of him and the pleasure he’d give her.

Taking her mouth with premeditated tenderness, Cary lowered them both to the bed. For long minutes, he just kissed her, sometimes rolling on top of her so she could become accustomed to his weight, sometimes turning so she was atop him, letting her move as she pleased. He kissed her gently, not so gently, deep and slow, wild and wet. But he kept his hands on safe ground—her shoulders, her waist. He held her face, smoothed her hair, teased her nape. And when she was quivering, filling his head with small gasps and making him nuts with the way she writhed against him, he laid her on her back and cupped her breasts.

She arched, firming his hold, giving him more. She was firm, round, and so damn soft. Cary kissed his way down her throat, her chest, until his mouth again closed over one taut nipple.

“Oh God.”

Her fingers held his skull, drawing him closer, encouraging him. With leisurely intent, he suckled one nipple while plying the other with his thumb. He shook worse than she did. Restraint, he discovered, was not an easy thing. In fact, it was pure hell. Especially now, because he’d never suffered this level of burning lust before. And here he’d thought he knew all about it. Damn, but it was different with Nora. Hotter and sweeter, so intense. His whole body strained to be closer, to be inside her.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to wait much longer, and he needed to know if she was ready. He pressed his hand between their bodies, low on her belly, his fingers splayed. She didn’t freeze up on him. In fact, she squirmed, trying to get his fingers where she wanted them. Cary lifted up and looked at her face. Eyes closed, head tilted back, she appeared wanton and ready. Utterly beautiful.

“You’ll like this,” he told her. With the heel of his palm pressed to the top of her mound, he petted her with his fingertips, slow, easy, gentle. Just stroking.

She moaned and lifted her hips.

With his middle finger, he parted her—and felt her distended clitoris, ripe and ready, so sensitive. She was creamy wet, swollen, very near the edge. Heat raged through him. He locked his jaw, tensed his shoulders against the driving need, and stroked with just one fingertip, teasing, easing her deeper into the moment.

“Cary,” she whispered on a thin breath of sound, then her back arched hard and she gave a long, raw moan.

Like a wire pulled too tight, Cary snapped. Two fingers sank deep into her, pulled out, and thrust again, preparing her, widening her. She was so tight, her inner muscles clasping at his fingers, that he knew he’d die when he got inside her.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he was over her, catching her knees, pulling her legs apart. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—hell, he couldn’t even see straight. But he felt her small frantic hands, dragging him down so she could kiss and lick his mouth, her silken thighs wrapping tight around him.

Blindly, he positioned himself and thrust hard.

She bowed beneath him, crying out but clinging to him, adding to the urgency. Cary pressed, retreated, pressed until he was buried deep, as deep as he could go. He rode her hard, no rubber, no soft sex words, just savage, pounding need. Less than a shameful minute later he was coming, so hard and long that he shouted at his release, his head thrown back like a wild man, his hands knotted tight into the sheets beneath her, every muscle straining.

When the spasms finally left him long moments later, he fell heavily onto her, incoherent, damn near unconscious. He thought he might have been breathing, but he wasn’t sure. Little sparks of pleasure continued to snap inside him, making him twitchy.

An indeterminable amount of time passed before he became aware of Nora’s nose touching his shoulder, her deep inhalations, the restless way she moved beneath him.

Oh shit!

He’d just mauled her.

Ravaged her.

She hadn’t come at all, at least not that he’d noticed amid all his shouting and groaning and straining. He had, though. Hell, he’d blown like Mt. Vesuvius after an extended dry spell.

And he hadn’t worn a rubber.
Oh shit, oh shit.

Cary swallowed.
Sit up,
he told himself, but he didn’t move. He wasn’t sure he could move yet.

And then Nora whispered, “You smell so good,” and she nuzzled her nose against his sweaty shoulder again.

With Herculean effort, Cary rolled to the side of her. Or maybe it was more that he flopped like a half-dead fish. Nora didn’t follow. She didn’t move at all. She just stared at the ceiling—and the damn silence suffocated him.

Cary waited for his heart to slow just a bit more, then he choked down his embarrassment and said, “Yeah, uh, that didn’t go quite like I planned.”

Silence.

“That’s, uh, never happened to me before.”
So lame.

Her big eyes closed, shutting him out. “Sorry.”

He did a double take. His brow cocked. “What’s that?”

“I’m sorry. I told you I wasn’t good at…” Her hand moved, fluttered above the bed, then resettled on the mattress. “This stuff.”

Oh, hell no. New energy flowed into Cary, enough that he could prop himself up on one elbow. Progress, he thought, as the tingling in his limbs faded. At least his mind was functioning again. He surveyed Nora, and liked what he saw. No, he
loved
what he saw.

Her short hair was still slightly damp, in cute little curls around her face. Her cheeks were rosy. Little tremors coursed through her—the effects of going unfulfilled, no doubt. Her nipples were darkly flushed, still taut. Hmmm. “You’re kidding, right?”

Her jaw worked before the words came out. “I can’t … can’t seem to …”

Idly, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, Cary reached for her breast and toyed with her nipple. Her hands clenched and she moaned. “Nora, listen to me.”

“I can’t.” Her whole body was rigid, stiff. “Not while you’re doing that.”

Smiling, Cary put his hand on her belly instead. “Better?”

She gave an adamant shake of her head. “No.”

He didn’t move. “It was my fault, you know. You’re wonderful. Sexy as hell. I was going along just fine, prepared to see to you first as any gentlemen would do, then you gave that provoking little moan and I lost it. Kaboom. Control blown all to hell. You should be slapping my face. You should be cursing me. I’m a pig and a lousy lover and I made promises I didn’t keep.”

Her head turned on the pillow and she stared toward him. Though Cary knew that without her glasses she couldn’t see him, her expression of incredulous disbelief was plain to see. “That’s nonsense.”

He smothered a laugh. “Please tell me you don’t think I’m always such a selfish ass.”

Her brows came down in a frown. “You were wonderful.”

Cary slid his hand a little lower on her belly, until she caught her breath. His fingertips just touched her triangle of hair. “Wonderfully selfish.” And in a huskier tone, “I got inside you and you were so tight, so hot and wet, I became an animal.”

She bit her lip. “I … I liked it.”

“Yeah?” He grinned. “Me, too, obviously. But there’s a lot more to this whole lovemaking business.” When she remained curiously silent, he grew blunt. “You didn’t come.”

She caught her bottom lip in her teeth. “It, um, felt so good that I wasn’t sure.”

Damn, she was adorable. “You’ll know when it happens, Nora. I promise.” She frowned in doubt, which challenged him. “Let me prove it to you.”

Sensual interest darkened her eyes as the seconds ticked by. “How?”

God, he loved her. Now and forever, the kind of love that wouldn’t ever go away. And he’d just blown it in the sack. The irony was that women he’d merely liked had claimed him an excellent lover, while the woman he wanted most in his life had demolished his finesse, reducing him to a sex-crazed lunatic. He almost groaned again, but instead he sucked it up like a man and set out to make things right.

“Like this.” He covered her with his palm and began to gently finger her. She was so hot, and wet.
Very wet.
Which meant he was quickly growing hard again. He would not be a pig this time. Never again. But she moaned, and that small sound tested him. He supposed it was his love for her that made everything with her sharper-edged, so acute that he could barely contain himself.

Because she looked embarrassed he leaned over her and covered her mouth with his own, muffling her sounds of pleasure. At first, he kept the pressure light, the rhythm uneven, letting her orgasm build up again. When her kisses grew bolder, almost desperate, he moved down to her breasts. The dual assault would be sweet, and would help guarantee his odds.

At the same time that he closed his mouth hotly over her nipple, he pressed two fingers deep inside her, stretching her, exacerbating already sensitive nerve endings. Her cries grew more harsh, raw. Using his thumb with devastating effect, Cary stroked her clitoris in small, circular movements that had her groaning and writhing. He kept himself in check with ruthless determination. He could feel the heat pulsing off her, the spiciness of her aroused scent—and she broke.

With a long, ragged moan, her legs stiffened, her hips jerked. He raised up to watch her, seeing the vague understanding in her dark eyes, the rush of heightened color in her face and throat. “Perfect,” he whispered, keeping the pleasure steady, ensuring she got everything this time.

By small degrees, she quieted and her legs went lax, naturally sprawling. He wanted to fuck her again; he wanted to hold her to his heart and tell her everything he was feeling. He wanted so much, he honestly didn’t know where to start. He should take it easy, play it by ear, wait and see what Nora thought. Yeah, that’s what he’d do. He’d be patient for once. He’d keep control.