Real Men Do It Better (35 page)

“Not in words, but in action. You go for tall, leggy blondes with flawless features. Think about those women who followed you into the dive shop.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Face it, Duncan, I’m not your type.”

“I’ll show you my type,” he growled, shifting positions again, straddling her, his hard throbbing cock pressing against her belly as he leaned down to kiss her.

His tongue drifted over her teeth. His fingers teased her nipples beneath the material of her bikini top. The sensation was out of this world. Blood pumped through her body, echoed in her ears, the strum of life singing inside her.

Annie’s nipples were rock hard, her breasts swollen and achy. A strange, wondrous surge of heat blazed from her tense nipples straight into her womb. She was dripping for him. Juicy and ready.

“You like?” He pulled his mouth from hers, his voice rough as a caveman’s, and peered deeply into her eyes.

She nodded. His fingers were busy slipping the strap of her bikini slowly off her shoulders. Annie whimpered.

Where had this come from? She was a strong woman who didn’t let her desires reduce her to a quivering mass. Why was she so willingly capitulating to him? Especially when she knew exactly how much he could hurt her.

It’s the Siren’s Call.

This was miserable. This was joy. This boomerang of emotions. How could she want him so much yet be so afraid of her desire? Her brain told her to fight it, to push him away, to jump up and run out into the pouring rain. To drown herself in the ocean, if that’s what it took not to make the same mistake. But her body wasn’t having any of it.

Her hands were on his face, caressing his cheek, peering into his eyes, begging him for more. Passion—the thing she feared most—crowded out prudence. All she could think about was his masculine fingers stroking her super-sensitive flesh to a five-alarm blaze.

“Oh, God, Annie,” he said once her bikini top was off. “You’re fucking fabulous.”

She blushed, never believing but always secretly hoping she’d be back here again. Duncan’s fiery gaze roved over her, his hands sending ribbons of pleasure unfurling throughout her body.

A sneaky, double-crossing part of her wanted to cry out with joy that she was in Duncan’s arms. That they had a second chance. The euphoria of that idea was sweet, but dangerous. She refused to explore the possibility. This was strictly sex, nothing more.

“Duncan,” she breathed, tossed by her tumultuous thoughts. Longing overwhelmed her. She couldn’t resist. He was so damned handsome with that shock of brown hair plastered against his thick, tanned skin.

A smile tilted his lips when she reached up, threaded her arms around his neck, and brought his head down for another kiss. The length of his hard body was pressed against hers. His tongue dipped languidly into her mouth.

She strummed her tongue against his, making herself an active participant. If she was going to go through with this, then she was going to take full responsibility for what happened. Afterward, she could tell herself she’d known exactly what she was doing. This time, there would be no regrets. Annie didn’t stop him when his hand drifted to her bikini bottoms.

“Lift up your hips,” he commanded.

She obeyed, levering her lower back off the bed of palm fronds as his big hand made short work of the slight material.

He made a guttural sound low in his throat. This was it. No begging off now. He rolled to one side and stripped off his swim trunks in a motion so practiced she had to wonder how many bedrooms he’d performed it in. How many other women he’d slept with. His erection burgeoned, thick and heavily veined, the velvety head purpled and pulsating.

“My, my,” she cooed. “You’re bigger than I remembered.”

It was his turn to blush, and that blush did a strange thing to her heart. He was shy with her. This big, commanding man.

Stop it! Don’t let his vulnerability get to you.

She sat up and reached for him, but he grabbed her around the wrist to stop her. “Touch me now, Annie Graves,” he said, his accent heavier than usual, “and I’ll blow.”

Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to her bare belly and kissed his way back up to her straining nipples. She quivered.

“Does that feel good, Annie? Tell me what you like.”

“Good.” It was all she could manage.

He flicked his tongue over one straining bud and then oh-so-lightly bit down. Razor-thin shards of pleasure spread throughout her breast. She moaned.

“Good?” he asked.

“No.”

“No?”

“Fabulous.”

He grinned and kept at it. His mouth sucking, his tongue teasing, fingers tickling. Brilliant. He’d learned a lot in five years. He’d honed his technique.

He left her nipples and traveled downward. He spent a little time at her navel, pulling the pearl ring in and out of his mouth. The maneuver produced crazy, erotic ripples in her belly that undulated all the way down into her pussy. When his lips reached her straining, hungry clit, he stopped just short of touching her with his tongue. His breath was hot against her tender flesh, igniting her beyond comprehension.

She arched her hips again, trying to bring his mouth and her clit into contact, but he read her like a GPS tracking device and moved with her, keeping his mouth just out of her reach,

“Beast,” she hissed.

He laughed.

“Bastard.”

“Hang on, babe. Well get there.”

She didn’t want to hang on. She wanted him to fuck her with his mouth right this second. Her brain was glazed with lust, her body worked to a fevered pitch.

Gently he spread her thighs wider and moved his body around so that he knelt between her legs. “Gorgeous.”

The head of his massive cock throbbed against her knee as he leaned forward. Annie’s excitement escalated. Unbearable. She couldn’t stand it. She’d never felt such desperate pressure.

His big fingers caressed her clit as his tongue probed the folds of her labia. Her eyes slid closed so she could savor what he was doing to her.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”

His tongue captured her clit.

“Oh, God.” Never, in all her life, had she been pleasured this way. It was ecstasy. He seemed to know exactly what she wanted, what she needed from him. Knew it even better than she did. He reveled in her and she had never felt so cherished. It was dangerous territory, these tender feelings. But she couldn’t stop them. They were part and parcel of what was going on.

While he suckled her clit with his mouth, he slipped a finger into her slick, wet pussy. The walls of her vagina sucked at his finger, gripping and kneading him in rhythmic waves, pulling him deeper and deeper into her.

Sound was altered and she existed in the delicious void. Floating, without a body, it seemed. She was total sensation. Aware of everything. Her entire being a giant throbbing clit of energy.

“You are so damn hot.”

She rode the sensation of his tongue, got lost in it. She hovered on the brink of orgasm, but he would not let her fall over. A steady strumming vibration began deep in her throat and it emerged as a wild moan.

“Please,” she begged. “Please.”

“Please what, babe? You have to ask for what you need.”

“Please make me come.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear.”

He let loose then. Gave her his all. His tongue danced, his fingers manipulated. She let go of all control. Let go and just allowed him to take over. It seemed he was everywhere. Over her, around her, in her, outside of her. He was magic. He was amazing. He played her with accomplished precision. She was his instrument, tuned and ready.

“More.” She thrashed her head. “Harder.”

He gave it to her just the way she asked for it. Pumping his hand into her, while his thumb pressed her clit, the secret button of her release.

“Come, babe, come,” he coaxed.

She came. Exploded into great, writhing pleasure. She screamed. Her voice echoing across Dead Man’s Island. Slapping against the rain. Bouncing off the confines of the overhang. Sating her soul for the first time in five years.

5

Annie was limp in his arms, drained, sated. Duncan gathered her close, nuzzled her neck, nibbled her earlobe. Her delicious feminine aroma surrounding him. She smelled of the sea he loved, salty and rich and verdant. Hungrily, he inhaled her. Stunned at how intensely she stirred him.

So personal was her smell, so tuned in was he to her fragrance, that if he were blindfolded in a room with a hundred women he could pick her out by scent alone. Yearning clutched his throat, squeezed his heart. Whether she knew it or not, she had him on the ropes. One frown from her and he was jumping to turn it into a smile. One smile and his day was made.

Duncan stared at her sleeping form and his heart was stone in his throat. What was going to happen, he wondered, when they got back to civilization and she learned the Siren’s Call was a fake? That he’d orchestrated this whole expedition because he’d known it was the only way she would allow him to make love to her again.

Guilt had him snared tight in its teeth. He should tell her the truth, tell her now, face her anger, and beg for her forgiveness.

But she was sleeping soundly and he could not bring himself to disturb her. He wished he could sleep. He needed to sleep if he expected to keep up with his insatiable woman.

His woman.

Duncan cradled the back of his head in his palms and smiled up at the rocky overhang above them. If he had to use sex and the Siren’s Call to hang on to her, then that’s what he would do. She was his woman, and he was determined that this time he was never going to let her go.

*   *   *

When Annie awoke sometime later, the rain had stopped and Duncan was gone.

For a minute, she felt the same treacherous flash of panic she’d experienced five years earlier, on the morning after they’d first made love and he’d blithely announced he had signed up as a salvage diver on a ship run by the most beautiful and sexually aggressive woman in St. Augustine. The betrayal of that long-ago morning was so fresh in her mind she could feel the sting of it, could smell orange blossoms blooming on the trees from the field near Duncan’s houseboat.

That was then and this is now, she told herself. Totally different circumstances. Then, she’d been a shattered kid. Now, she was fully in control of her own destiny.

She sat up. Should she go search for him? Or simply wait for him to return?

Waiting idly by for him to return was too passive. Too much like she’d given up and just let him have his way. Besides, it was his turn, and she was in the driver’s seat.

She put on her bikini. Her body was sore and achy from his lovemaking. Grinning, she wandered down to the beach.

When she reached the clearing, she saw he’d made a fire on the beach. How had he managed that?

He came strolling from the sea, naked as the day he was born. His harpoon in one hand, a large fish in the other. Annie had never seen a more compelling sight.

Duncan stalked toward her, his cock, jutting proudly in the air, already hard for her.

She was so excited her pulse banged through her veins. “You caught a fish.”

He shrugged as if providing for her was expected, not exceptional.

“And built a fire.” Annie gestured.

“I had matches in my waterproof emergency diving kit,” he explained. “You hungry?”

“Starving.” She followed, watching him as he fashioned a makeshift barbecue spit, cleaned the fish, skewered it with a stick, and stuck it over the fire to grill. He did it all while he was still hard as a rock.

Poor baby. He’d given her a rousing orgasm without ever coming himself. How selfish of her. How thoughtless. She should even the score.

“Duncan.”

The expression on his face was so intense she could feel it deep down in her soul. He looked so good. So manly. Muscles bulging, he stepped closer, encroaching on her personal space.

“Annie, we need to talk.”

“Shh,” she hushed him. “Not now.”

Then without another word, she dropped to her knees in the sand, took his big, thick, beautiful cock into her hand, touched her lips to him.

“That’s it, babe,” he gasped and a shudder went through him. He cupped the top of her head in his palms, channeling her in his preferred rhythm. “That’s right,” he cried, his voice gravelly as ground rocks. “Suck me.”

As she took him in her mouth, she realized she’d never felt more powerful in her life.

*   *   *

Annie’s lips were on his cock, her fingers digging into his buttocks. Duncan had never felt anything so damned wonderful. He couldn’t believe what she was doing for him.

He thought he’d had her figured out. Thought he knew her through and through. But this was not what he’d been expecting. A blow job. On the beach.

She took his breath.

He looked down at her dark brown curls and his heart contracted. This wasn’t right. He didn’t want her on her knees subservient to him. He was the one who revered and treasured her. He was the one who was guilty and wrong. He was the one who’d made all the mistakes.

But it felt so incredible, and he understood that she was trying to give to him what he’d given to her earlier that afternoon. He stood beneath the sky as the sun went down, and the woman he loved made him feel more like a man than he’d ever felt in his life.

Her mouth was so hot!

And she was doing things with her tongue, twirling it up and down along his shaft at the same time she sucked him. He had to reached down and grip her shoulders to keep himself from toppling over.

She held all the power. She was in control. He was putty. He was liquid. He was both nothing and everything in her willing hands. God, he’d missed out on so much! He’d missed out on five years of Annie.

Stupid fucker.

But he couldn’t keep berating himself. Not when the things she was doing made him forget his own name.

Back and forth, she went. Sliding her mouth up and down his shaft. Duncan’s knees tensed and when she reached up to cup his balls in one of her hot little hands dusted lightly with sand, he let out an explosive groan.