Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 134746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
I’m almost on her.
Ready to catch her.
When her foot catches on something, and this time her yelp isn’t so playful.
It’s panicked as she goes tumbling forward, her arms flailing out.
I’m there in a heartbeat, one last lunge of speed.
Diving, I catch Elle around the waist and pull her up—but her momentum has us both, and I can only twist, using my body as a cushion for her as we spill down on the sand.
I land on my back hard, but not painfully, the damp sand absorbing much of the blow.
Elle comes crashing down on top of me, her elbow catching a glancing blow against my ribs before she goes sprawling.
We’re soaked in an instant—lying in the waves, with the water rushing up to our waists and then receding.
All I can feel is her.
She molds wetly to me like we’re melting into each other. Dissolving in the water, caramelizing in the heat of our flesh, and as she inhales sharply and pushes herself up with her hands braced against my chest, I know she feels it too.
Her skin is spangled in diamonds—wet spray drenching everywhere, turning her into a pale sugar jewel. Her soaked dress looks clinging and completely transparent now, offering me a mouthwatering view of everything I’ve been craving since I found out what she tastes like, what she feels like, what I’ve been struggling to pretend means nothing all fucking night.
Her mouth glistens as her lips part.
Her eyes are golden witchfire.
And her flesh is so damn soft in my hands, where I instinctively gripped her hips—and now I have zero intention of letting go.
I try to be practical.
Try to rein myself in, when there’s nothing stopping my cock from taking what’s mine.
“You all right?” I manage. The words scorch my breath into sparks.
“Uh-huh,” she answers—dazed, raspy.
There’s a trembling silence.
She should get off me. I should lift her away.
But our eyes lock.
And then there’s no hope left for us.
I don’t know if I kiss her first or she kisses me.
I just know my hands are tangled in her wet hair, stroking it back from her face, pulling her against me as I seize her mouth.
“Elle,” I whisper.
She answers with a needy moan, wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling herself against me until we’re all friction and burning skin and wildness that could steam the ocean dry.
Her hunger is a challenge, baiting me to meet her ferocity as she kisses me hard, her tongue sliding against my mouth and inside to tangle and twine with mine—until she gasps as I tumble her over on her back, pinning her down and taking the upper hand.
Her mouth is mine.
Soon, all of her.
No more banter tonight.
No more defiance.
No more play.
I’m serious as hell as I subdue her with slow thrusts and firm strokes of my tongue, nipping her bottom lip just to feel its ripeness.
I taunt her with long, lingering licks and swift flicks against the tender flesh inside her mouth.
Until she goes soft underneath me, whimpering with delight.
Until she arches up, and fuck, I can almost fit between her thighs. The wet fabric clings to us both, this simulation of fucking that tortures us with denial.
It hurts.
It hurts that every time I thrust my tongue inside her mouth, I’m not thrusting in her, and I need something to take the edge off.
My fingers catch her dress.
I curse how long it is as I hike it up, up, peeling the wetness away from her skin until I can touch her naked waist.
Her ribs.
Her breasts, peeling the damp bra away to knead them against my palms.
I groan with every liquid roll of flesh spilling over my fingers.
And I nearly burst when her sounds turn high and needy, sugar drops of her pleasure poured between our crushing kisses.
Everything is slick.
Her.
Me.
Everywhere our flesh glides together, where our need meets.
I flick her nipples with my thumbs and she bites me, begging my name in a ragged groan and bruising my lip. I rock my hips against hers, and her body meets mine, pleading with her legs spreading and her thighs flanking my hips.
I can’t fucking stand it anymore.
It’s too much sensation, the sand and the waves, the night breeze and the burn of her skin, the taste of her and the desire flaming through me to leave nothing but ashes behind.
I feel like I’m dying and coming back to life.
I don’t know.
I don’t care—
I just need her.
So I plunge deeper into her mouth, chasing every taste of her, then pull back as I feather one hand down over her smooth stomach and find the line of her panties. When my fingers brush between her legs, I know it’s not just the ocean water leaving her soaked.
“Elle,” I whisper, almost begging.
Begging her to let me off my leash.
Her eyes slip open.
She’s intensely beautiful beneath the starlight, disheveled against the sand, this wild creature of the night.