Hunching her shoulders forward, she lost her balance a little and grabbed at Koenraad’s leg. She found herself surprised again by how warm he was, and how solid.
“Are there a lot of others like you?”
Koenraad shrugged. “Not anymore.” The yacht picked up speed. Monroe braced an arm against the cabin’s back wall and abandoned the questions. The sun was sitting low in the sky, and the waves on the ocean seemed choppier than earlier.
“Can I take you to dinner?” Monroe found herself asking.
Koenraad looked over at her, then brought the boat to a stop. He killed the engine.
A light frown furrowed his brow, and he cocked his head, almost as if he was listening to some barely perceivable sound.
She didn’t know where the impulse came from, but she found herself moving, sliding a newly tanned leg across Koenraad’s lap and straddling him, one knee on the seat, her other foot on the floor. The steering wheel was in the way, so she stayed off to the side.
He was still a moment, then turned his attention to her. He dragged one hand slowly up the back of her straightened leg, and when his fingers reached her mid-thigh, they squeezed, kneading her soft flesh until his hand was against the swell of her buttock and holding her tight.
Her pussy seemed to throb. All day long, she’d wanted him inside her, and now there was nothing stopping it from happening.
Koenraad leaned over, the side of his face pressing into her upper abdomen, and fiddled with the knobs and levers. His movements were deft and fast, and the way he attended to whatever mysterious ritual he was doing while slowly massaging her ass turned her on even more.
Finally he sat back and looked up at her. He repeated the earlier journey with his free hand, and when his hands were full, he slid his hips over and pulled her onto him.
“No underwear?” he murmured. “Maybe I should reconsider New York.”
She couldn’t hide her smile. When was the last time a man had made her feel like this? How about never? came the answer. No, she didn’t know him, but she felt like she did, and heaven knew she wanted to.
He traced his fingers lightly over her buttocks, pressed into the small of her back and urged her forward. Her nipples had hardened, making twin peaks under the dress. There was no way he hadn’t noticed.
She ground her hips down, expecting to rub her bare sex on his covered erection, but instead felt a stretch of warm, hardened skin. She rocked her hips, surprised, and realized that several inches of swollen cock were now poking out of his Speedos.
With a sharp intake of breath, she pulled back. “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t have anything… I mean, I didn’t realize that your, um, that you…” What was wrong with her? She was acting like this was her first make-out session.
“It’s ok,” he said into her neck, his voice whispering across her sensitive skin. Her neck was probably her most erogenous zone, and as his lips grazed over her throat, she felt herself getting wetter.
He stood, his hands under her buttocks. She wrapped her legs around him, trying her best to avoid rubbing her clit on his exposed, pulsing cock. But damn, she wanted to. She tightened her arms around his neck and buried her face in the shadow where her elbow and his broad chest met.
She could feel the thick scar down the right side of his body, and she wondered if it hurt him.
“I’m going to take you downstairs and make love to you,” he said gently. “If that’s ok.” It wasn’t exactly a question, but she nodded anyway, holding her breath as he descended the steps.
Lights now illuminated the steps and the deck’s walkways. Beyond, the sea was quickly darkening, and a cool wind made goosebumps of her skin… at least, the areas where she wasn’t pressed up against Koenraad.
He easily carried her through the little hallway and opened one of the doors and stepped into a bedroom. The bed itself took up a third of the space, but other than one bedside table, there really wasn’t any furniture. A series of mirrored doors and drawers lined one wall. It made sense; furniture that moved could become dangerous in rough seas, she supposed.
With one hand behind her head, he gently laid her on the bed.
He went to a window and cranked it open.
She couldn’t stop staring at him. He definitely didn’t have two male organs. Twice the size, maybe… “I had no idea sharks were so well hung,” she said.
“Completely different anatomy.” He shook his head and made a face that was half sexy, half laughing. “I don’t think we want to talk about that.” He crossed his arms and scratched his thumb over his chin. “I don’t suppose you’re on birth control?”
She nodded. “Why?”
“I’m clean, and I can’t give you anything. Except for—”
“Oh,” she said. “We’re good.”
He came down on one elbow above her. Somehow, her yellow dress had gotten hiked up around her hips when he’d set her down, and he cupped his hand over her exposed sex with a light, teasing touch, grazing her slit. She was already slick.
He kissed her again with a single-minded focus that was both flattering and scary. She rocked her hips lightly side to side, wanting him to press into her, but he seemed intent on taking his time.
So she set out to change his mind via her fingers snug around his cock. His kiss grew harder as she squeezed him, trying to work the rest of his length free of the restrictive fabric.
She tilted onto her side, but he pushed her back with a hand on her knee, then he knelt over her, his palms pressing gently but resolutely on her inner thighs. She looked down and realized that her chest was rising and falling too quickly, that she was breathless.
He carefully peeled her out of her dress, and she fell back onto the bed, surrendering, her arms flung wide, her legs bent but flattening again as he spread her thighs. She was self-conscious of the way her breasts had bounced, but she didn’t try to cover herself, hoping not to bring attention to her nervousness. Though it wasn’t like he hadn’t already seen her at her worst.
And anyway, it was getting dark and the only illumination filtered in from the lights he’d turned on outside. He wouldn’t be able to see anything in detail.
He came down over her again and seemed to be carefully keeping his cock away from her pussy. So very close. She wished he would at least rest the pulsing weight of it on her aching clit.
“You’re beautiful, you know,” he said. He carefully smoothed her hair away from her face, and she closed her eyes, nervous under his scrutiny. “Hey,” he said, his voice a tease. “I’m not so bad to look at, am I? Or maybe you don’t want to remember this?”
Remember. Because she’d be going home the next day. She forced her eyes open, strained to meet his gaze in the waning light. “You’re beautiful, too,” she blurted out. “I wish I didn’t have to leave tomorrow. I mean—”
The rest of her words were cut off with another of his heart-pounding kisses. He was more forceful in bed than she was used to… and he hadn’t done anything yet. It was the way he touched her. He knew his way around a woman, that his touches brought pleasure. He knew what he wanted.
For once, she wasn’t going to have to take the lead. With Koenraad, it wouldn’t have been a chore, but she was relieved because she knew she’d be an awkward, clumsy mess.
He kissed and licked his way down her neck, over the flat spot between her breasts. She arched her back, and he licked the crest of her ribs and then lower. She dropped her hand to his head as he descended, and worked her fingers into his thick hair.
The bed seemed to vibrate as he growled, his face moving between her legs. She hadn’t noticed he had stubble, but his jaw was scratching her thighs raw. For all that, he was careful where it counted. He licked between her folds and she arched higher, moaning, her toes pressing against the soft sheets.
It wasn’t just excitement that ripped her breath out of her chest. Koenraad was now flicking his tongue around her clit, and even though her mouth wasn’t begging for more, her body certainly was, thrusting
rhythmically at him, knowing only he would bring her pleasure.
But it was relief, too, and gratitude. The night before, she’d realized she needed to change her life, but she’d never expected that someone else could change it for her. That wasn’t how it was supposed to work. She was supposed to save herself. But here Koenraad was, protecting her, making her laugh, and now, his arms locked around her thighs, he licked and kissed and tongue-fucked her pussy with a hunger that she hadn’t thought possible.
And the noises he was making, like she was satisfying a deep hunger in him. Like he was the grateful one.
“Oh—” It was all she could get out before bliss exploded throughout her body. The hours of Koenraad’s tormenting closeness had made her too excited, too sensitive. Her orgasm bordered on violent, and she felt like all her pieces might go flying out in a million different directions. But Koenraad was still there, his mouth pressing on her as shudder after shudder rolled through her body.
As she came back to herself, Koenraad slowly relaxed his grip on her. His face was still buried between her legs, and he didn’t move away until she was completely still. Only when he sat up and pushed her arm away did she realize that her fingers had been clenched in his hair the whole time.
“Sorry,” she said. Her voice was weak and sounded far away.
He caught her hands and pressed her wrists onto the mattress, pinning her in place. “If we’re going to apologize for being rough during sex, it’s going to be a very long night.”
With that, he reached between their bodies and dragged the head of his cock along her wet slit.
Chapter 10
Monroe in his bed was giving him sensory overload. He’d never tasted a woman half as delicious. He’d known, just from her smell, that they were compatible, but he hadn’t anticipated all the subtleties of her honeyed excitement.
It had taken every scrap of willpower he possessed to tear himself away from her. He would have been happy to hold her there for hours, just inhaling her intoxicating feminine musk until it was as familiar and easy to recall as the scent of rain on the ocean.
So far, she’d been surprisingly accepting of all the weirdness, but he doubted she’d be willing to put up with his face buried between her thighs. Pity she lived so far away. If he had more time, he could win her over, make her his, teach her to put up with, or even enjoy, his eccentric sexual obsessions and needs. There were things about his anatomy that he was hiding from her, but he wished he didn’t have to. How to explain to a human about the spurs on his cock? Or how dangerous his blood and semen were if ingested by a non-shifter? As afraid of the water as she was, she would probably jump off the boat and swim for shore.
For now, she was here, and the taste he’d gotten would have to be enough. His cock throbbed and his balls ached, and Monroe was pliant and accepting underneath him. Still, he wanted to turn her over, rake his teeth over her back until she tilted her hips toward him, then clamp her shoulder in his teeth to hold her still while he thrust himself home. He wanted to let go, to anchor her to him.
He groaned. It was too much to expect a non-shifter to endure. He knew that, but now his instinct was fighting hard to take control.
He turned her, trying to be gentle. Heaven help him. Her back curved and her lovely round ass tilted up so provocatively. The mass of her hair spilled along the bed, and her skin was sinfully soft.
There was only so much a male could take. He pushed up on her ass, opening her legs and exposing the slick, swollen folds, her hard little clit like a pearl. Not caring what she’d think, he leaned forward and inhaled her, licked her. She was dripping after her forceful orgasm, and already she shivered, practically vibrating. He slowly sat back and saw her pussy tighten hungrily.
He pulled her legs down so she was flat on his bed, and he spread her thighs. He tried to be gentle, really he did, but he sensed he was scaring her.
“It’s ok,” he soothed. “I won’t hurt you.” Even if holding back might feel like it was killing him.
There was a strange splash in the water, not far away. It reminded him of the weird feeling he’d had right before Monroe had straddled him. The splash didn’t sound quite right. He would investigate later, when this gorgeous woman wasn’t waiting, legs spread, for him to fuck her.
Her buttocks, thighs and pussy glistened. He leaned over her and slowly lowered his straining erection toward her heat. She twitched and hitched her hips up, rolling them slightly as if afraid to vocally express her need for penetration. If he had time, he’d free her from that shyness, too. But he didn’t have that luxury. He had this night.
He didn’t just want to fuck her. He wanted to truly mate with her. Except that wasn’t something a shifter did with someone unless it was meant to be forever. And with a human? That was trouble. And where had this come from, anyway? He’d been with many women over the years, shifter and human alike. Some he’d been intellectually connected to, some he’d had a powerful hormonal attraction to. All of them he’d enjoyed, or he wouldn’t have wasted his time.
But nothing had been like this. He didn’t even really know the woman quivering in his bed. But what he did know, he liked very much. And then there was the physical allure that enthralled him.
He wanted to mate. Not sex. Mate, as shifters did. He could stop at the last minute, before it was completed. He gritted his teeth. The thought was unspeakably stupid. He knew that. And he could seriously hurt her. Assuming he was able to keep the spurs on his cock retracted, it would bring suffering nonetheless.
“Do you wanna turn the light on?” Monroe asked, her voice tentative. She wasn’t innocent, no way, but there was somehow an innocence to her. Of course, she couldn’t truly understand that between the soft lights in the hall and the moonlight coming through the window, he saw every inch of her as clearly as if she were under a spotlight.
And she damned sure didn’t suspect that he was trying to stop himself from making a bad decision that would change their lives forever.
She turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he remembered the expression on her face earlier on the beach, when she’d stared him in the eye and told him she wasn’t afraid. He’d almost laughed. Him. An apex predator and inches from his habitat… he could have shifted and dragged her into the water between his jaws. Yet she was unafraid.
And she had been telling the truth.
“Koenraad?” The sound of his name on her lips made his cock twitch. She didn’t pronounce half of the vowels and a third of the consonants, but he loved the sound of it.
“You are too damned sexy,” he said. He traced his hands over her shoulders, tensed from the effort of holding herself twisted around to look at him. If he’d allowed himself to really touch her, he’d lose control. “Hold onto something, baby,” he said softly.
He looked down at the supple, round curves of her gorgeous ass. Even though it almost killed him, he left her arms alone (don’t pin her down) and her shoulders (don’t rake your teeth over her flawless skin) and that perfect handhold where the flare of her hips tucked into a soft, lovely waist.
Instead, he grabbed handfuls of his sheets. She sensed his struggle for control. He could smell her fear, could feel the almost imperceptible change in her body temperature. To mate with her would be committing to her for the rest of their lives. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t subject her to that, and so he drew a line far on the side of safe, and he eased his cock into her slippery, clutching heat.
Oh, she was snug around his girth. And sopping, dripping wet. How was he supposed to control himself? He dug his fingers into the mattress, gathering up the sheets in his fists, and leaned his shoulders back, away from her, forcing himself to stare at the ceiling so he wouldn’t bite that delectable skin where her shoulder and neck joined. Her tight muscles were already clenching around him, squeezing him, sucking on him rhythmically.
“God, oh god oh god oh god,” she chanted, sounding out of her mind. Her voice had lowered, gotten breathy. “Koenraad, you feel… i
t’s like…” She sucked in air—he loved that particular tic of hers—and bit down on the pillow.
Biting. He wanted to bite her. To mar her skin with his lust. Every shark shifter who ever saw her would know that she was mated and claimed.
He could restrain himself. He could lightly drag his teeth over her body. Harmless. Innocent.
He came down over her and opened his mouth wide, pressed his teeth onto her shoulder. His cock swelled, and her sweet, sweet pussy squeezed him. She was so wet. So receptive.
She whimpered, nearly sending him into a frenzy, but some deep reserve of prudence made him rock back before his jaws could clamp.
His erection, though, plowed deeper into her velvet heat. He could feel every muscle in her body, and he adjusted his rhythm so that each thrust stroked the most sensitive spots of her pussy, and every inch of his length rubbed the skin closest to her clit.
She unleashed a torrent of desperate pleading. He slid a finger into his mouth and then bent his hand under her damp hip. The sheets underneath them were soaked, and he knew that even after he changed them, he would be able to detect her scent for months to come. Once he had his finger on her clit, he pressed in deep and pounded into her, hard and fast and relentless, his sweat-damp hips slapping against her soft thighs.
Feeling her orgasming around his cock and hearing her excited, unintelligible pleading made him see stars. Heaven knew he wasn’t a screamer, but that night he did, an animal grunt tearing from deep within as his balls tightened and sent uncountable spurts into Monroe’s perfect, gorgeous body.
His pulse finally slowed. He took a deep breath and shook his head. Now that the flood of hormones was clearing, he was grateful that he’d managed to hold back. Monroe deserved better than to be pulled even deeper into his world. She had her own life to lead, and it was unfair of him to take that away.
Touching Paradise Page 8
