ladder.”
“Then why even climb?”
“You know why.”
He did. “Say it.”
“I wanted you to see me. See what you’re missing.”
“I’m looking.” Heaven help him.
“But not touching.”
She was wrong. One hand to the ladder and the other at her waist as he pulled her back flush against him. “I am now.”
He slid his hand lower, over her belly, low enough to encounter soft folds and heat, and she was already plump for him, already breathing hard.
“Cutter, please.”
He shouldn’t be doing this. He was only making things more difficult for everyone. Especially now that his father was behaving idiotically towards Nash. “Please what?”
“It wouldn’t take much, I promise.” Her eyes met his, dark and desperate as she turned ever so slightly in his arms. “I’ve been dreaming about you. Foreplay’s done.”
“Please what?” he demanded again.
“Please make me come.”
He kissed her, deep and reckless, as he slid his middle finger down and in. He ground the heel of his hand into her clitoris and ate her tiny gasps and moans, and she was right.
It took no time at all before she was clenching around his finger and whimpering her pleasure.
He let her ride his hand until her own hand slipped from the ladder, and then he turned her to face him and hoisted her up so that her breasts were above the water. He traced one of her nipples with slick fingers before taking it in his mouth and she tasted of everything he’d ever loved. Salt and the sea, and a sweetness all her own. He suckled hard, uncaring of the marks he was making, wanting to make them, as she wrapped her legs around his hips again and fed him wordless encouragement.
“I’m not done.” It had been years since he’d barebacked a woman but he wanted this with a ferocity that was new to him. “Can you go again?”
“Yes,” she whimpered. “Yes, I can.”
He was big. He knew this from experience.
But no woman had ever cursed him out for it as creatively as she did.
She was tight, tighter than he’d ever had, and he tried to be patient, tried to soothe and wait until she was ready for more. Another inch, and then another, and then she put her back to the ladder and he put both hands to it as she wrapped her legs around him and impaled herself with one fierce, impatient thrust.
“You were taking too long,” she murmured and crushed her lips to his.
Breathing was overrated anyway.
She milked him slowly at first, barely enough hip rotation to make the water move but enough to loosen the way somewhat.
“Lack of lube,” she murmured as she dragged her lips across his ear and clung hard to the ladder. “Another reason the water beneath the jetty’s not your favorite seduction spot.”
He stilled, breathing hard but still in control. “Am I hurting you?”
“Would you like that?”
“No, I—ngh.” She dug her heels into his buttocks and he thrust into her hard, no measured stroke, this one. “Oh, dear God.”
“Gonna take that as a yes, pretty boy. Because I want you to hurt me good.”
The rhythm they created didn’t last long. Half a dozen slow and brutal strokes and she was convulsing around him again, biting into his shoulder to smother a scream and taking him with her into a release that hit like a cyclone.
She stayed where she was in the aftermath, still wrapped around him like an octopus, and, oh, he could get used to that. To this. To her.
“Hey.” He could barely recognize his own voice. “You still there?”
“Present.” She let her hands drop to his forearms as she leaned back against the ladder and smiled lazily at him. “Do you feel good? I feel good.”
“I feel shattered.”
“That’s good, right?” She pulled back to look at him, eyes wary. “Please say you don’t regret this.”
“I don’t regret this.”
Her smile broke him, and her kiss remade him.
She lived in Melbourne and was leaving soon, not to mention her having strong ties to the half-brother his father
“Then why even climb?”
“You know why.”
He did. “Say it.”
“I wanted you to see me. See what you’re missing.”
“I’m looking.” Heaven help him.
“But not touching.”
She was wrong. One hand to the ladder and the other at her waist as he pulled her back flush against him. “I am now.”
He slid his hand lower, over her belly, low enough to encounter soft folds and heat, and she was already plump for him, already breathing hard.
“Cutter, please.”
He shouldn’t be doing this. He was only making things more difficult for everyone. Especially now that his father was behaving idiotically towards Nash. “Please what?”
“It wouldn’t take much, I promise.” Her eyes met his, dark and desperate as she turned ever so slightly in his arms. “I’ve been dreaming about you. Foreplay’s done.”
“Please what?” he demanded again.
“Please make me come.”
He kissed her, deep and reckless, as he slid his middle finger down and in. He ground the heel of his hand into her clitoris and ate her tiny gasps and moans, and she was right.
It took no time at all before she was clenching around his finger and whimpering her pleasure.
He let her ride his hand until her own hand slipped from the ladder, and then he turned her to face him and hoisted her up so that her breasts were above the water. He traced one of her nipples with slick fingers before taking it in his mouth and she tasted of everything he’d ever loved. Salt and the sea, and a sweetness all her own. He suckled hard, uncaring of the marks he was making, wanting to make them, as she wrapped her legs around his hips again and fed him wordless encouragement.
“I’m not done.” It had been years since he’d barebacked a woman but he wanted this with a ferocity that was new to him. “Can you go again?”
“Yes,” she whimpered. “Yes, I can.”
He was big. He knew this from experience.
But no woman had ever cursed him out for it as creatively as she did.
She was tight, tighter than he’d ever had, and he tried to be patient, tried to soothe and wait until she was ready for more. Another inch, and then another, and then she put her back to the ladder and he put both hands to it as she wrapped her legs around him and impaled herself with one fierce, impatient thrust.
“You were taking too long,” she murmured and crushed her lips to his.
Breathing was overrated anyway.
She milked him slowly at first, barely enough hip rotation to make the water move but enough to loosen the way somewhat.
“Lack of lube,” she murmured as she dragged her lips across his ear and clung hard to the ladder. “Another reason the water beneath the jetty’s not your favorite seduction spot.”
He stilled, breathing hard but still in control. “Am I hurting you?”
“Would you like that?”
“No, I—ngh.” She dug her heels into his buttocks and he thrust into her hard, no measured stroke, this one. “Oh, dear God.”
“Gonna take that as a yes, pretty boy. Because I want you to hurt me good.”
The rhythm they created didn’t last long. Half a dozen slow and brutal strokes and she was convulsing around him again, biting into his shoulder to smother a scream and taking him with her into a release that hit like a cyclone.
She stayed where she was in the aftermath, still wrapped around him like an octopus, and, oh, he could get used to that. To this. To her.
“Hey.” He could barely recognize his own voice. “You still there?”
“Present.” She let her hands drop to his forearms as she leaned back against the ladder and smiled lazily at him. “Do you feel good? I feel good.”
“I feel shattered.”
“That’s good, right?” She pulled back to look at him, eyes wary. “Please say you don’t regret this.”
“I don’t regret this.”
Her smile broke him, and her kiss remade him.
She lived in Melbourne and was leaving soon, not to mention her having strong ties to the half-brother his father
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