Ironic that he’d started this as a way to give her all the experiences she deserved. In this moment, she returned every bit of it to him tenfold. The tradeoff rocked.
“You feel unbelievable,” he murmured and thrust again.
In and out, he worked his hips in the same rhythm as the swell and retreat of the waves. Bliss. Better than anything in his memory.
But she hadn’t come nearly enough to call his job well done. Not yet. And this position was not conducive to all the ways he wanted to touch her. Withdrawing, he dropped to the blanket and rolled her against his chest, spoon style, and slid right back inside her from behind.
Oh, dear God. Ecstasy. She took him so easily, thrusting her butt against his, burrowing him so deep that his throat hurt from the effort to stop the flood of release. His gut hadn’t clued him on that one.
He froze and clawed it back. Geez. When was the last time he’d nearly lost it like that? Never. She shouldn’t be this hot or this much like all his fantasies come to life—fantasies he’d never realized he’d harbored about a shy, dark-haired dynamo who blossomed when he touched her.
None of which changed how very close to the edge he was, and he needed her to come. Immediately. No clue how long his will would actually last, and frankly, he didn’t want to find out.
He wanted her.
He fitted his arms around her, holding her close as he thrust again, and it was the tightest sheath imaginable stroking down his length. Groaning, he did it again and again, lost in it, fumbling blindly for her center until he hit her sweet spot, fingering it.
“Open for me, sweetheart,” he croaked, needing the room to work since his brain had ceased functioning.
To emphasize the point, he hooked her leg over his and half rolled, widening the valley between her legs, and slid two fingers into place at her center as he pistoned into her again.
She gasped and stiffened. He did it again and again until she cried out, and his name on her lips was the sweetest of all sounds. When her climax blasted down his length, it triggered his with no warning. A sneak-attack orgasm. He groaned through it, emptying himself until he was so spent, his bones fragmented into dust.
“That was…” She trailed off, clearly as unable to string words into a sentence as he was.
“Yeah. It was.” What words were needed anyway? None. They’d only be inadequate to describe perfection.
Instincts had been dead-on there.
What he hadn’t anticipated was how his insides would be so warm afterward and how nicely she would fit against him. It was something he suspected he could get used to.
She snuggled deeper into his arms, and he held her, burying his nose in her hair. It smelled amazing, like ocean and the outdoors and something vaguely lemony. He’d never see or hear the surf again without getting hard.
“Ready for my report on all the stuff I haven’t done yet?” she said, her voice low and sensual and so sexy that it thrummed through him.
His laugh mixed with a groan. “You gotta give a guy a minute, honey.”
She waited two beats. “How about now?”
“Eager. I like that.” More than he should, but there you go. “Hit me.”
“I’m still working on the full report, but there is this one thing,” she said so wistfully that he couldn’t stand it. Especially when she didn’t open her mouth and tell him. After all of this, she still couldn’t talk about what she wanted? Obviously they needed to repeat the experience a bunch more times to get the lesson really solidified in her head.
Whatever it was, he’d make it happen, even if he had to bleed to get it done. She definitely should know that by now. “What?”
“I want to photograph you. Naked,” she whispered as if he might not object if the volume changed.
Dirty pictures? That was so… hot. “I’ve never done that before either.”
If anyone else had asked, he would have blown it off, citing possible future presidential bids. You just never knew. It was ingrained to be careful what you left behind when your life was not your own. His was dedicated to Uncle Sam for as long as the navy would let him pledge his loyalty to country and team.
But he wanted to do it. For her.
“You haven’t?”
What, like he made it a habit to run around being a nude model? “Totally legit. And I’m totally on board.”
Earlier he’d taken off his shirt to let her snap some pics, but that had been strictly to get her comfortable with him. He’d pat himself on the back for that one—case in point, she was currently naked.
What she was asking for this time was something different. An adventure they could both take together, and he wanted that. No clue why it appealed to him so much. But it did. Fitz did not discount a gut feeling. Ever.