by BETH KERY
“Emma?”
She swam toward the sound of his voice. “Here I am.”
Her outstretched hands brushed against the round, dense muscles of his shoulders, and suddenly he was hauling her against him. He caught her around the waist and propelled them toward the shore with a powerful kick in the water. Her feet floundered for the bottom, but she still couldn’t reach it.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he said, and she realized he now stood, the water up around his neck, and was holding her above the waterline. She gave a nervous laugh. Her heart raced like mad. She didn’t know why. Her skittishness about what was happening with him had made her imagine his sudden anxiety.
Her hands slid across slick, hard flesh as if of their own volition. He felt amazing. She felt the tension in his muscles yield slightly. Her fingers skimmed across the hair on his chest. The velvety head of his cock flicked next to her thigh. Arousal spiked through her, a hot needle through her chilled flesh. She gripped his shoulders and he brought her closer. His cock wasn’t as erect as it had been when they stood on the beach, but it still felt formidable and beyond exciting feeling him pressed next to her skin.
“You’re so warm,” she said, seeking him out instinctively with every inch of her skin.
The contrast of his heat and the cold water was wonderful. His hand lowered to her ass, his fingers flexing in her upper thigh. She followed his nonverbal command without thought, understanding him even in the silent darkness. She raised her legs, gripping his hips with them. He lowered his other hand to her ass and lifted her higher against him, their skin sliding together in a sweet, frictionless glide, their faces coming closer.
“You’re so soft,” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers, his big hands moving on her ass.
“Is that a polite way of saying I need to get to the gym?” she joked, looping her arms around his neck and sinking her fingers into his damp hair.
“No. Are you fishing for compliments now?” he asked when she pulled gently on his hair and he tilted his face back for her kiss.
“No,” she replied, nibbling at his damp mouth . . . such succulent, firm male lips. She could never get enough of them. “But it might be nice, hearing one from you right now,” she said, echoing what he’d said earlier.
“Okay.” He squeezed her ass cheeks into his palms gently before he stroked her thighs, and then cupped her bottom again. “When I look at you from the back, I lose all sense of reason, so I try not to as much as possible,” he said, his quiet, deep voice pitched just above the sound of the surf in the distance. He swept one hand along the side of a buttock up her hip to her waist. “This curve? This one right here,” he said thickly as he swept it back down to cup her ass again, “makes me lose all sense of logic.”
Emma had stopped nipping playfully at his lips and gone still in his arms. A frisson of excitement had rippled through her at his honesty. “It does?’ she asked weakly.
“I’m here, even though I know I shouldn’t be. What more proof do you need?” he said with a low growl, his mouth closing briefly on hers. “Everything is just as bad from the front, mind you.” He swept one hand along her sensitive side. She shivered at his warm touch in the cool water.
“Oh,” she exhaled when his hand closed over her breast. He shaped her to him gently.
“So soft here,” he said. His fingers caressed her nipple. “So hard here. Such pretty little breasts,” he murmured thickly. He pinched lightly at the erect flesh. Emma gripped his waist tighter with her legs and pressed her sex against his hard midriff, desperate to alleviate the pressure growing there. He pushed against her with his hand on her ass, at once helping her find relief and mounting her excitement higher. “I wondered how responsive you’d be. When I found out the other night, that was the end of restful sleep. I can’t remember how many times I jacked off over the weekend thinking about how your nipples felt against my tongue.”
“Oh God,” she exhaled raggedly and pressed her lips against his neck, intensely aroused by his sexual honesty. Her hands slicked across his muscular back, absorbing the sensation of his stark male strength.
He nuzzled the back of her head with his nose and chin, and then spoke gruffly near her ear. “But as much as I might lech over your gorgeous ass and perfect breasts and pretty face, it’s not those things that make me the most crazy. It’s your kindness. Your freshness. Your eyes—”
“Don’t say that,” she said, halting her feverish kisses. Men who offered nothing but a sexual affair shouldn’t say things like that. Her fingernails dug into his back, her hips flexed against him hard. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt so desperate. Shouldn’t she have protested over his dirty talk rather than his sweetness? But it was the intensity of his tone just now that had felt so wonderful and unbearable at once.
“Shhh,” he soothed, as if he knew what was happening inside her, knew how wild she felt, how overwhelmed. But how could he? His mouth covered hers, and it was like he’d thrown a life preserver into a boiling sea. His kiss enflamed her as always, but it also steadied her somehow, his taste and mastery a familiar touchstone. He really knew how to use his mouth, she realized dazedly. Sensual and giving, yet so firm. So demanding. She experienced the slight suction he applied to her mouth at the very core of her body. It took her a moment or two to realize he walked toward shore. Only when gravity took hold as he lifted her out of the water did she start to sag against him, and their kiss broke.
“Hold on,” he instructed.
She firmed her hold on his shoulders and gripped his waist as tightly as she could with her legs. His muscles tautened beneath her fingers as he took her full weight, both hands on her ass.
“You can put me down,” she said shakily.
“Hold on,” he repeated in that tone that didn’t invite argument.
He carried her out of the water and onto the shore. He let go of her with one hand, the other keeping her in place, his supple strength and balance amazing her. She realized when he bent slightly that he was arranging some of their clothing on the flat rock. He turned so that her back faced the water.
“I’m sitting,” he informed her, firming his hold on her with both hands.
A little puff of air flew past her hips when he sat, bringing her with him. She plopped into his lap, her ass falling back onto his hard thighs and the thick, engorged column of his cock.
“Oh my,” flew out of her throat.
“Are you okay?” he demanded.
“Yes,” she said quickly. He throbbed against her ass. His grip on her hips tightened. He flexed his arms, pulsing her against him. She gasped.
“That?” he asked, still referring to why she’d exclaimed so emphatically.
“Yes,” she whispered, understanding him perfectly.
“I can feel you, too. You’re warm and soft and wet. It’s going to feel so fucking good inside you,” he rasped, naked longing ringing in his hoarse voice. With her legs opened, her pussy pressed snuggly against his lower belly. “I can’t wait anymore, Emma. I couldn’t even wait for how long it’d take to drive back home and take you in my bed,” he said, his lips fluttering against the pulse at her neck. “Are you ready for me?”
She arched her back and pressed the erect tips of her breast against his chest, craving his hardness and heat.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”
Chapter Ten
His mouth grew more voracious on her neck, his teeth lightly scraping her skin amplifying her already immense arousal. She dragged her nails against his scalp and turned her head, raining kisses on his temple, so hot. So ready.
“You’ll have to scoot back for a moment,” he grated out. Emma blinked, the realization hitting her that he was applying pressure on her hips with his hands, pushing her back . . . away from him.
“Why?”
“Condom,” he said, and by the terseness of his tone, she knew
he wasn’t exactly pleased by the idea of unsealing their damp, naked bodies, either, even for a moment.
A necessary moment.
“Of course,” she whispered, a little mortified. She was glad at least one of them maintained the ability for rational thought. She scooted back on his thighs, her bottom sliding against dense muscle and crinkly hair. He was cool on the very surface from the swim, but just beneath it, she felt his heat. It was too dark for her to see much of anything but the shadows of the towering rock behind him and just the outline of his form. Sometimes even his dim outline blended into the shadows so that he seemed to become invisible, the sensation of his hard, warm body her only guidepost. She thought she saw his arm move and heard clothing rustle, and knew he was retrieving a condom. She heard the ripping sound of paper as he opened the package, the erotic vision of him applying the prophylactic springing vividly up in her imagination.
“I wish I could see you.”
He made a hissing sound under his breath. Had he cursed?
“I told you I was no angel,” she said softly.
He reached for her, his hands wrapping around her upper arms. “Come here,” he said, and by the hastiness of his movements and the tension in his voice, she knew he liked what she’d said. He placed a hand at her lower back, pushing her close to him, the other beneath a buttock, the pressure urging her to rise over him. “Put your knees down next to me,” he instructed. “I’ve got my clothes under us, but if your knees start to hurt, tell me.”
Emma scurried to try to find a position that worked. She wanted this so much, to join with him. She settled on her knees and was poised over his lap.
“Raise up higher,” he urged, one hand on her hip, guiding her. She felt the tip of his cock brush against her opening and gasped. He felt large and hard as steel. His fingertips were tender, though, as he gently parted her delicate tissues.
“Help me, Emma,” he said, and her heart jumped in her chest at the desperation in his tone. She would have done much, much more than was required in that moment to relieve his anguish. She firmed her hold on his shoulders at the same time that she flexed her hips. Gritting her teeth, she pressed down on him. At first, her body seemed to resist him, but then she felt herself stretching around him . . . melting around his hardness.
“Ah, Jesus,” he hissed. “You’re so small. So warm. Hot.” Both of his hands cradled her hips now as he assisted her, guiding her, taking just enough of her weight to let her ease down on his cock without too much haste or force. Emma was glad he couldn’t see her in the darkness. It wasn’t painful, but it was uncomfortable at first, as her body grew accustomed to him. She bit her lip to restrain a moan, worried he would interpret her discomfort and stop what she wanted so much—
“Emma? Are you all right?” he asked sharply, and she realized that her absolute silence had been warning enough for him. He increased the pressure on her hips, holding her immobile, keeping her from flexing further down on him. She paused with several inches of thick, tumescent flesh piercing her. She craved more.
“Yes,” she said, air puffing out of her lungs. She’d been holding her breath, and now he knew it. “Please . . . don’t stop,” she begged brokenly.
He remained unmoving for a moment before he pushed down gently on her hips and another inch of him carved its way into her body. “As if I could,” he muttered darkly, and he brought her closer yet.
He was filling her, the sensation overwhelming. Wonderful. She finally sat in his lap, his cock fully sheathed inside her. He held her tightly against him. Emma pressed her face into the crevice of his neck and shoulder and shuddered. They panted together, their ragged breaths and the sensation of his cock pulsing high and hard inside her becoming her entire world. Then he nudged her ear with his nose and said her name. She couldn’t decide if those two syllables on his lips were a command or a plea, but it didn’t matter. In that moment, there was only one way she could reply.
She lifted her hips several inches and sunk down on him again, gasping at the intensity of the pressure. His low, rough groan sounded like it might have been ripped out of the core of him. His fingers sunk into the flesh of her hips and buttocks as he began to assist her in the rise and fall of her body over him.
“Oh God,” she moaned, because his driving cock was starting a fire in her flesh, the hard, relentless friction making nerves deep inside her burn. Her body ceased resisting him, beginning to crave his possession. Emma lost all sense of time and place as she rose and fell over him. His hands on her hips and ass tightened as he took away more control from her. She let him have it, trusting him.
She cried out as he thrust her down on him with force, and her buttocks slapped loudly against his thighs. He groaned gutturally, repeating the bull’s-eye stroke again and again until both of them were frenzied. Her clutching hands moved on his shoulders down to his arms as he drove her down on his cock. His biceps were bulging and hard, as he took a good part of her body weight, lifting and plunging, until she longed for nothing else but ignition. Release. She sunk her nails into the dense muscle of his arms and cried out in wild desperation.
He slammed her down into his lap and pressed her down tightly to him at the same moment that he delved his fingers into her hair and palmed her head.
“Come here,” he commanded harshly.
He kissed her forcefully—devoured her—while his cock throbbed deep inside her. The hand on her hip moved, his thumb stretching between her thighs. His fingertip found her clit, rubbing the slick, erect button, and Emma exploded. Waves of pleasure shook her, but he wouldn’t release her from his relentless kiss. It was like being pummeled by two different storm fronts: pleasure and possession. She moaned helplessly into his mouth.
He ate up every cry.
* * *
He finally released Emma from his kiss when her sharp cries became whimpers and he’d worked every last shudder of pleasure from her sleek, sweet body. The fragrance of her climax perfumed the air, the scent of it mixed with their perspiration and the fresh lake breeze making him see red. He ran his hands over her naked body, his greed for her even sharper now that he was about to be appeased in his hunger.
For a short while, anyway.
His searching hands found her breasts, firm and thrusting from the plane of her chest, the skin exquisitely soft, the nipples small and hard, mouthwatering . . .
He took a beaded crest into his mouth, unable to resist, laving at the hard point with his tongue. He began to move her hips, riding her on his cock in tight little circles. It was like doling out tidbits to a beast, keeping it at bay for a few precious moments, knowing all the while it wouldn’t last long . . .
He bit down very gently on her nipple and heard her cry out. He wasn’t sure if it was in pleasure or pain, but then felt the flush of heat around his cock. He knew then. Everything went black for a moment. The next thing he knew, he held her wrists behind her back and she was crashing down over him. He experienced a moment of regret—he hadn’t meant to become so controlling with her given her inexperience—but then it slowly hit his lust-drunk brain that she was riding him just as furiously as he drove her down on him.
“Arch your back, Emma,” he grated out as he fucked her at a hard, fast pace. With the hand that held her wrists at the small of her back, he felt her follow his command. Her supple torso arched gracefully, her submission natural. Sublime. “That’s right. Offer yourself to me.”
She whimpered shakily. He latched onto a thrusting breast, sucking forcefully. Orgasm slammed into him at the sound of her sharp scream. He felt her convulse around his cock. His body pulsed with his pleasure. Hers. It all fused in the explosion.
After a final shudder of pleasure wracked him, he dropped his forehead against her chest, feeling the rise and fall of her breath and the rapid throb of her heart. He turned his face so that he could feel the precious pulse of life against his lips. He pulled her closer in his ar
ms. She softly murmured something he couldn’t quite make out, but which he understood, anyway.
He’d lost his virginity on this very beach when he was fourteen years old. It had nothing to do with why he was here tonight. He’d been to this beach dozens of times in his life. He’d come as a screwed-up teenager in a desperate search for fun. Forgetfulness. As an adult, he’d come many times for a solitary walk.
But the reason he distantly recalled losing his virginity on this beach during a drunken escapade with an equally drunk, bored socialite friend of his stepmother’s had nothing at all to do with holding Emma right now while her heartbeat fluttered against his lips. He only thought of it because the two experiences were direct opposites of each other. Yeah, they both involved sex and a woman and pleasure. Lots of experiences from his life involved that, but comparing those incidents to this?
The truth was: it was like comparing dust to a diamond.
* * *
After that first time, they remained clasped together. Emma thought she might be projecting her own novicelike feelings onto Montand, but it seemed to her that there was a desperation to their tight embrace, as if they dreaded what might separate them, fighting for this ephemeral moment, staving off the reality that awaited them outside the protective bubble they’d created together.
Surely it was an illusion—wishful thinking—on her part. She was quite certain no such musings or flights of fancy were occurring to him, especially given his careful description of their relationship.
“I have to move. The condom,” he said gruffly near her ear a moment later, and her last thought was confirmed. She was thankful that he was much more practical in these matters than she was—the nurse—who should have known better. At least she was on birth control following her relationship with Colin. Pregnancy was one worry she needn’t have.
He helped her rise off him. He still felt very firm as he withdrew. The ensuing empty ache she experienced was highly unpleasant to her. She sat perched on his thighs, bracing herself on his shoulders, listening to him rustling in the darkness. Then his hands were on her hips again, guiding her toward him. She started when she felt the tip of his cock nudge her pussy.
