One Summer At The Beach: Pleasured by the Secret Millionaire / Not-So-Perfect Princess / Wedding at Pelican Beach. Melissa McClone
‘You got it.’
He waited, knowing there was more. Despite the gentle humour she wasn’t ready yet and he wanted to hear all she had to say.
She stumbled her way through it. ‘Last night…last night was amazing.’
‘Yes.’ He agreed quietly—major understatement.
‘You didn’t know.’
He thought for a second, trying to figure where she was going—she thought it was amazing only because he didn’t know? ‘You think it’s going to change now I do?’
The flush in her cheeks deepened but she looked him square in the eye—he found himself understanding the expression ‘true blue’ precisely, such was the painful honesty reflected there. ‘I just want to fully enjoy everything like normal people do,’ she mumbled.
He started to see even clearer. ‘You don’t want any soft treatment because of your history.’
She nodded.
‘You want to be just like anybody else.’
She nodded again.
He chuckled. ‘I’m sorry, honey, but there is no way on this earth you’ll ever be just like anybody else.’ He finished his thought before her mad look got madder. ‘You’re special.’ Very special and his body was harder than it had ever been. He asked, ‘Do you want to be pushed to extremes, Sienna?’
She stared. ‘What sort of extremes?’ She sucked in a breath as if she were tasting fresh mountain air for the first time. ‘Like last night sort of extreme?’
It was his turn to nod—slowly. ‘Yeah.’ He slid his hands to her hips, wanting to keep her near him. ‘Shall we find out exactly how much pleasure your body is capable of?’
The shiver shook her from head to foot. Huge blue pools stared up at him, mirroring her thoughts—incredulity at what he’d said, excitement, temptation.
He couldn’t quite believe he’d said it himself, but now he had, he knew it was exactly what she needed. And what he needed—the most wonderful challenge. The opportunity to forget himself, his life, and just bury deep into her, make her forget the trauma her body had been through, show her how much fun she could have.
He saw the moment she was sold—the flash in her eyes, the parting of her mouth.
‘OK.’
He hugged her, holding her close to the beat in his own chest, savouring the satisfaction in knowing she wouldn’t be running out on him again, that he’d have all the time he needed to quench this lust. Thank God they were finally in agreement.
No one had ever stared at her before with such a look of want. Did he really not mind it? Did he even notice it? Did he not wonder?
‘Is it OK if I touch it?’
So he definitely saw it. He ran his finger down the white line that bisected her from base of her throat to diaphragm. Then he looked to the side. He grinned. ‘Is it OK if I touch these?’ He cupped her breasts; his thumbs stroked her nipples through her bra. ‘Very pretty. Pretty flowers, but what’s underneath is even prettier.’ He pulled the lace down so her nipples played peek-a-boo over the top. Bent and pressed kisses along the rising slope of one, stopped just shy of her nipple—it was so hard it hurt. He slid his hands around her back, loosened the catch and let the straps fall from her shoulders.
‘Extreme…’he muttered. ‘Let’s see if we can do extreme.’
She held her breath, refusing to let her body sway towards his, one last doubt needing to be dealt with. ‘I don’t frighten you?’
He laughed. ‘A slim little thing like you?’
‘No.’ She jabbed a finger at her chest. ‘This doesn’t frighten you?’
‘Honestly?’ He stared straight into her eyes. ‘No.’ He grazed the back of his knuckles against her nipples. ‘I’ll tell you what frightens me. The thought of not having you for one whole night where I can lie with you and we can go at it like rabbits.’
She giggled, spontaneous effervescence bursting through her solemnity. ‘How do rabbits do it?’
‘I don’t know but they do it lots. Let’s just go with the lots for now, OK?’
‘OK.’
He pulled his tee shirt over his head. Then he returned to her breasts, finally fitting that heaven-sent mouth around her pointed tip and letting his tongue rough over it.
She marvelled at the feel of his hands on her body, the way he was struggling with his passion. He really wasn’t fazed by her scar at all—his desire not lessened by any degree. If anything he was even more aroused than the night before. She figured that was because, in one way, he didn’t care. He just wanted her. Wasn’t worried for her. Because there was nothing invested here—they weren’t talking futures or relationships or anything remotely serious. Hell, they weren’t even talking tomorrow. They were talking sex—good, hard sex, right now.
That was OK. In fact, she reasoned in the last seconds she could still think, that was perfect—they were living life right in this moment. Exactly how she’d decided she had to live. No guarantees, just go with the now.
He undid the button on her skirt and tugged at it, his fingers catching her panties underneath as well. Slowly, he slid his hands down, kneeling before her as he pulled both skirt and underwear off.
‘You have the most magnificent legs I have ever seen.’
She looked down. Six foot three of strongly muscled, extremely naked man was at her feet and gazing at her with unconcealed lust—despite her scar. She was as naked as he. The answering desire inspired in her meant she could hardly stand. She reached a shaking hand out to his shoulder, needing the support.
He stood, scooped her up. ‘Do you have any idea the thoughts I’ve had these last twenty-four hours?’
She let her head fall back on his chest, willingly doing the featherweight female act. ‘Do I want to?’
‘Sure you do. But—’ he grinned as he spread her on the bed to his satisfaction ‘—I’m not going to tell you, I’m just going to do it.’
He started with a kiss that tasted of his smile and his promise of maximum pleasure. She kissed him back, hungry to take the satisfaction she knew he’d give. His determination, his intention, was unmistakable and she was breathless with just the thought of it, let alone the accomplishment.
He left her lips, left her gasping, while he kissed her cheeks, her jaw, down her neck—kissing all over her shoulders and chest until her entire torso had been touched by his beautiful mouth. His hands worked in accompaniment—trailing fire, teasing, tending to the parts of her that his mouth wasn’t fixed to. Meantime she tried to take in air.
He slid down the bed, between legs she’d happily parted. He placed one knee over his shoulder, so he could kiss along the inside of her leg. ‘That OK for you?’
Nothing beat the sensation of his stubble gently rasping against her inner thighs. ‘Uh-huh.’
He lifted her other leg over his other shoulder so his head was cradled between her thighs. She was hot and wet and he hadn’t even touched her yet—not there. She could hardly wait. She raised her hips, wanting to rock them, wanting him to rub and rotate and reach right into her.
His lips curved and her desire to have them press against her became paramount. ‘Rhys.’
He bent his head and she stopped breathing altogether. When she started again, it was even faster and shallower. Her entire body beat to the pulse of his movements, to the rhythm of the blood in her veins. She’d never lain like this. Never wanted anything or anyone the way she wanted him doing this, like this.
His fingers stroked, his mouth teased.