Pleasure Beach

by P. J. Mellor

  His intense gaze burned into her. “Lose the robe,” he growled.

  With any other man, she would have felt embarrassed, or at least a little shy. But, for some reason his heated gaze empowered her. Excited her beyond belief.

  Slowly untying the belt, she felt every loop of the soft terry cloth as it slid sensuously over her heated skin. Every greedy little follicle luxuriated in the gentle friction.

  At last, naked, she hitched her leg onto the side of the mattress to join him, only to be stopped by his hand on her forearm.

  “Not yet,” he said. He extended a glass of champagne. Their rims gently clinked in the silence of the hotel suite. “To tonight. And to infinite delightful possibilities.”

  Resisting the urge to squirm beneath his rapt gaze, she could only nod and take a sip of the cool wine.

  “Are you still up for fantasies?” he asked.

  Gazing at the tent his arousal made in the sheets, she was amazingly ready for any and everything he could dream up. “Absolutely. What did you have in mind?”

  “Games.”

  “Games?”

  He nodded and gathered up several large pillows, stacking them as though to make a little throne or bed. One hand patted the pile. “Climb on up, my sweet.” At her hesitancy, he frowned. “Is there a problem?”

  Shaking her head, she climbed and reached for the edge of the coverlet.

  He stopped her with a shake of his head. “Ah-ah-ah. You may not be hungry, but I’m starving.” He grinned wickedly and reached for the bowl of fruit. “I plan to eat a big old bowl of sexual fruit salad.”

  She raised an eyebrow, a heated rush of sexual interest already making her moist.

  He grinned and parted her thighs. “And you, sweet thing, are my serving bowl.” With that, he picked up two peach sections and, spreading her legs wider, inserted each wedge on either side of her feminine petals.

  Her gasp echoed from the high crowned ceiling. The slippery coolness of the peach sections against her hot spot made her want to squirm.

  He kissed the inside of each knee and patted her vulva. “Good girl. Stay still. I’m creating a masterpiece.”

  He dipped a strawberry in the whipped cream and slowly dragged it down the engorged centerfold, between the peaches, then lightly licked the creamy streak. Dipping the berry again, he proceeded to paint each nipple with large, sexy tufts of sweet-smelling cream.

  Another dip. He outlined her mouth, careful to keep the fruit from her. After licking her lips clean, he lustily bit into the ripe berry, dribbling the by now warmed juice between her breasts. His tongue carefully bathed away every trace.

  She groaned, unbearably aroused, dying to see what he would do next.

  With a silver spoon, he dolloped whipped cream until he filled her folds. He then lined up a tidy row of raspberries, which he nipped out with the tip of his tongue and ate with obvious appreciation.

  Climbing up beside her, he took a sip of champagne, then licked each breast free of the cream with a thoroughness that left her panting.

  “Please.” She tried, in vain, to reach his bulging penis. “Now!”

  He gave her a mock-grim look and shook his finger at her. “No, pretty lady, not quite yet. I’m still hungry.”

  Back between her spread legs, his tongue made quick work of the peaches. With a loud suck, he removed each section and licked away any remaining juice. One hand searched the fruit bowl and came up with a glistening cherry.

  He smiled and waggled his eyebrows as he swiped the last of the whipped cream from its bowl and slathered her entire genital area.

  Large hands held her hips pinned to the cushions while his busy tongue licked every drop of the cream from every little screamingly sensitive fold. And then some.

  He peered up at her from her mound, his hot breath making her want to scream and push his face into her. He dangled the cherry between his thumb and forefinger, then licked his way back to her opening.

  Had his hands not been anchoring her, she would have bucked off the bed when the cold cherry slid into her aching portal.

  He looked up. “I’ve always wanted to eat a woman’s cherry,” he said with a gleam in his eyes.

  Okay, so she screamed when the pointed tip of his tongue deftly removed the cherry from her and sucked the combined juices of her climax and the fruit from her. She’d shown remarkable restraint up to that point.

  Weak with the prolonged arousal and forceful release, her muscles vibrated. And they still had not actually had sex this time! Well, she thought, she could rectify that in a New York minute.

  His head was still buried between her legs. Her hands were limp at her sides, but she was sure they would obey her command to drag him up to her at any moment.

  At that instant, he moved up, but only as far as her clit, where he began a sucking that had her screaming again within mere seconds.

  Before she could catch her breath from her latest climax, he slid up her body and entered her in one forceful thrust.

  Matching his rhythm, her last coherent thought was to wonder if anyone ever died from sheer bliss.

  The pink fingers of dawn edged through the draperies when Kinsey woke to find herself alone in the big bed. Sometime during the night, her considerate but insatiable lover had drawn the comforter over her exhausted nude body.

  She moved and realized she had sore and sticky places in places she hadn’t even known existed. A shower was definitely in order. Maybe in a few minutes. As soon as she could get her arms and legs to function.

  The bathroom door opened, spilling diffused light into the bedroom. He approached the bed in his silk boxers and open shirt. His lethal cologne wafted toward her, making her think of all the ways he’d taken her. In the dimness, his teeth gleamed.

  “Morning, sweet thing!” His good-morning kiss was enough to wake even a dead woman and have her begging for more. “Sleep well?”

  She could only nod, both relieved he hadn’t deserted her like a cheap one-night stand and a tad fearful about what he expected her to do by light of day.

  After her performance last night, or what she could remember of it, what could she possibly do for an encore?

  Amazed to find moisture pooling at this early hour, she scooted to the edge of the bed, dragging the comforter along with her. “I think I need a shower.”

  “No more erotic baths?” He actually looked disappointed.

  He gripped her shoulders and she looked up into his blazing eyes. “Maybe later.” With that, she attempted to sidestep him and failed.

  “I have one more game before we leave here this morning, ma’am.” The cover was tugged from her limp hands. He lifted her back to her pile of pillows and spread her legs.

  His kiss stopped her halfhearted protest while he vigorously shook the remaining champagne.

  At her questioning look, he grinned and held up the bottle. “Amateur gynecologist. It’s time for a very thorough exam and your complimentary champagne douche.”

  4

  Kinsey tried to rouse from the lethargy that had invaded her body ever since her “exam” and champagne douche. At the thought of the cool bubbles shooting deep within her, she wanted to smile again, but found it took too much effort.

  Her head lolled to the side of the butter-soft leather seat to get a better view of her driver. She wondered again how it came to be that she was speeding along the coast toward his beach house on South Padre Island, clad in nothing more than her raincoat and sandals.

  Originally he’d insisted she make the drive in the buff, but had finally allowed her to wear her coat for modesty’s sake.

  She frowned as a memory tugged briefly on her mind, then flittered away. Seemed like there was something she was supposed to do today. But in her dream car—a Jaguar—with the top down, brilliant Texas sun shining on her and a gorgeous driver, it was difficult to concentrate on much else.

  He turned to briefly smile at her and reached to trace the upper curve of her partially exposed breast with the ti
p of one roughened finger.

  Her heart fluttered within her chest. It would be so easy to fall in love with him.

  His companion dozed, providing Marc with an unobstructed view of her right breast when she listed toward him. He tightened his grip on the wheel and tried to adjust his ever-increasing arousal. And he’d thought his sex drive was waning! He hadn’t been so horny since…well, ever.

  It had to be the woman next to him.

  She was gorgeous, blond and had a body designed to give a man pleasure.

  But he knew it was more than that. While her attributes were outstanding, many women would qualify. Yet he couldn’t imagine doing the outrageous things he’d done last night with anyone else.

  There was definitely something about the woman that called to him. Sure, the sex was out of this world, but she appealed to him on a deeper level. Hell, he was addicted to her smile, her scent. He’d never felt so alive, so male, as when he was with her.

  Damn. He was supposed to be taking things easy this month. That was the whole purpose for this imposed vacation. Could screwing his brains out be construed as taking it easy? Sexual acrobatics like he’d enjoyed last night might kill him.

  He looked at her breast, pink-tinged from the sun, and his mouth went dry. The sports car hit the gravel by the side of the road as he stood on the brake, coasting to a stop behind a deserted truck stop.

  His health didn’t matter, the car didn’t matter. Hell, even the potential of getting caught didn’t matter. If he didn’t have her now, he would surely die.

  Kinsey squirmed in her seat, trying to hold on to the last remnants of a delicious dream involving the stranger in the elevator. The car had stopped, but her eyelids were still too heavy to open.

  Warm sunshine bathed her breasts, a slightly cooler breeze caressing her hardening nipples. Her coat must have come open, she mused. Someone might see her…. She’d close it in a minute. Right now she just wanted to luxuriate in the feeling. And remember all the glorious sensations from last night. Her night of independence.

  Roughened fingers stroked her nipples. She purred her pleasure. If this was still a dream, she didn’t want to wake up.

  “Open the coat,” a deep voice said in her ear. “I want to see and touch all of you. Here. In the sunlight.”

  She felt him part the trench coat and shivered, her body anxious for the pleasure only this man seemed able to give her.

  Hot breath fanned her left nipple an instant before the warm wetness of his mouth latched on to it. His one hand gently squeezed as he suckled, while his other fondled her right breast, taking occasional forays between her now-spread legs.

  Restlessness built, but her orgasm took her by surprise. She’d never even had an orgasm before last night, thought they were the stuff of female legend. By light of day, she couldn’t believe what she’d been missing for all those years. And speaking of light…

  Sunlight gently warmed her engorged sex. Combined with the gentle strokes of the man next to her, orgasm number two appeared to be coming up soon.

  She clamped her legs together. Enough was enough. Although the things they were doing felt glorious, it had to stop. She’d done nothing for him, and besides, they were on the side of the road! How hedonistic she’d become in just a few short hours.

  “Shh.” His breath tickled her ear. Gentle hands stroked her legs until her muscles relaxed. His arm reached across her and the seat motor purred, vibrating her swollen labia in a very interesting manner.

  She found herself lying almost flat on her back, the bright Texas sun hot on her face and breasts. The man spread her legs wider, his breath hot on her almost unbearably sensitive folds. His tongue lapped at her and she felt her bones begin to melt.

  When he sucked her nub, she screamed her pleasure, arching off the seat. While he sucked, his long finger slowly went in and out of her as his other hand kept stimulating her breasts.

  She was wild with desire, whimpering with need. It was too much and not nearly enough.

  Her climax left her wrung out, boneless. She couldn’t form a word if her life depended on it.

  She should reciprocate. And she would, as soon as she could breath in and out without the effort it took right now.

  The car door opened and closed. Footsteps sounded in the gravel before her door opened.

  She should probably open her eyes. And she would, but it took so much effort. Her trench coat was tugged from her.

  “Raise that pretty little bottom for me, sweetheart.”

  She did and felt the coat slide out from under her. His hands were back, stroking her. No point in protesting. May as well just relax and enjoy it.

  Bare skin brushed against her own when he lifted her from the car. When she was finally able to open her eyes, he towered above her, totally naked. Totally aroused.

  She lay on her coat, the fragrant grass tickling her hip. Regardless of the fact that they were behind a building, that they were beside the highway should have appalled her. Surprisingly, it was more appalling to think of not having sex with him.

  She opened, hoping he could read her body language.

  He was a fast learner.

  Sated, they dozed. Kinsey awoke when she was placed on the warm edge of the car. She opened her eyes as he spread her thighs and entered her again in one powerful thrust.

  They were on the side of the road. They were naked. They were having sex.

  No, more than that.

  He flipped her over, still buried deep within her, her breasts pressed against the heat of the metal. He pumped harder. They were fucking like wild animals.

  And she didn’t care.

  Marc looked at the woman, now dozing again in the passenger seat, then back down the road. He couldn’t possibly be getting hard again. They’d just done it, twice, not more than a mile or two back. And along the side of the road, for God’s sake! What had gotten into him? He looked at her again.

  She had gotten into him.

  He knew he needed to rest if he ever hoped to get his life back together. Yet the thought of leaving her at the hotel room had been unbearable. For some reason, he needed her as much as he needed his next breath.

  Yes, that was it. She was part of his healing process. Therapy. That was why he couldn’t bear to part with her. His body demanded her. That was why he invited her to spend the weekend at his rented beach house. It had to be.

  He saw the exit for Pleasure Beach and downshifted. Maybe a weekend of passion would get her out of his system and complete the healing process.

  “Wake up, we’re here.” The gruff whisper ruffled the hair by her ear. His lips brushed her jawline, the contact feather-light. Amazing how quickly she’d become accustomed to the feel of his mustache. The sound of his deep voice. His touch.

  How could she ever go back to Zachary after knowing the thrill of being in this man’s arms?

  Answer: She couldn’t. After agonizing over whether or not to accept Zachary’s proposal, the answer suddenly became obvious. Now came the hard part—telling Zachary.

  Kinsey glanced at her weekend no-strings-attached companion. She’d worry about telling Zachary later. Right now it was time to let go of worry and all inhibitions and enjoy.

  The man walked around to the open trunk and began unloading his suitcases. Kinsey looked up at her weekend accommodations. Way up.

  Made of rough-sawed lumber and glass, the beach house boasted two wraparound porches—one on each level—along with a first-floor patio that opened onto a pristine white sandy beach. A tropical breeze ruffled her hair, caressed her face, reminded her of why she’d always loved the beach.

  Yet another difference between her and Zachary. He detested the sand, said the saltwater made his skin itch. She gave her head a little shake, amazed that she’d allowed him to influence her life to such an extent.

  Before she could open her door, her escort was there with a hand out to help her. She smiled at the old-world charm and stepped out, tilting her face to the sun.

&nbs
p; “You’re lucky my hands are full, woman, or I’d ravish you again right here.” He growled. “In fact…” The suitcases dropped to the sand with a soft thud. “Kissing you is a much better way to occupy my time.” His teeth flashed white as he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Her knees weakened with the passion of his kiss, her arms pulling him closer as she leaned against the warm car door.

  “Let’s finish this inside,” he whispered against her lips.

  Cheeks burning, she looked away. “I can’t believe the way I’m behaving! Right out in public!”

  His laugh rumbled against her breasts, doing funny things to her breathing. “That’s not a problem. This is a private beach.” He bent to pick up the suitcases, brilliant blue eyes raking her from toes to head, then meeting her gaze. “We can do whatever we want, whenever we want, wherever we want. There’s no one to see us.”

  He turned and walked up the steps to the glass doors. She watched the play of muscles on his firm backside, her mouth going dry when the fabric of his trousers pulled taut as he dug in a pocket for the key.

  Panic washed over her.

  What was she doing? She’d spent a wild night, living every sexual fantasy she’d ever had—and a few she’d made up as she went along—with a total and complete stranger. Oh, sure, it had been her brilliant idea to not even exchange names. But…he could be an ax murderer or rapist for all she knew. Or a serial killer.

  An immediate picture of him stabbing a box of cereal had her stifling a giggle as she walked up the steps. She knew, on a deeper level, that this man was none of those things. And although it was far from her style, she intended to use him shamelessly this weekend, and damn the consequences. Like Scarlett O’Hara, she’d worry about that tomorrow.

  “Care to join me after we get settled in?” The man nodded toward a hot tub that bubbled merrily on the corner of the deck with a magnificent view of the Gulf of Mexico.

  Kinsey grinned. “Absolutely.” She looked up through her lashes. “But I didn’t bring a suit.”