Staying On Top(62)

“You are beautiful, you know that?” I breathed, not caring all of the sudden if I sounded like a complete moron. If we weren’t going to get repeats of these moments, it seemed to be a mistake to withhold words that begged to be spoken.

He smiled. “I think you should get your eyes checked.”

My fingers trailed downward over his pecs, lingering on his abs, then dipped into the waistband of his jeans. His quick intake of breath shot desire between my legs and brought a smile to my face.

His hands lifted, framing my face. “You’re beautiful, Blair. I swear, I could watch you for hours and never be anything less than fascinated.”

“How about you do a little less talking and get to that warming me up that we discussed?” Compliments made me equal parts happy and uncomfortable.

“As you wish.”

I smiled, not knowing if he meant to quote The Princess Bride but tickled all the same. Movie references, and thoughts in general, flew out of my head when Sam’s lips landed on my neck. They worked downward, hands pushing me back onto the blankets and clothes in the process, until they had trailed down to the swell of my left breast.

He lifted his head, concern visible on his face in the darkness. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

The clasp on my bra flicked open without me even registering that his hand had moved, and the combination of the cool air and Sam’s hot breath on my nipples tightened every muscle in my body with pleasure. My hands fisted in his hair as his lips fluttered and sucked; he flicked his tongue at close enough intervals that I couldn’t breathe in between, until I writhed with the desire to have him.

I let go of his hair and went for his belt, then the fly of his jeans. He felt heavy in my palm, thick and throbbing and as ready as I was. We had been doing the foreplay thing for over a week—longer if you counted the flirting that had begun last spring—and I couldn’t take much more.

The groan I earned in response to my ministrations said we were on the same page. It encouraged me to shove his pants and underwear off his hips, and Sam tugged mine down at the same time. It thrilled me, both of us being naked on the beach, even though it probably should have embarrassed me. I wasn’t this carefree, wanton girl—this girl dripping with so much need that she ripped a guy’s clothes off in freaking public.

Only tonight, and the other night in the bathroom—with Sam—it seemed that I was.

He kissed me hard, our lips and tongues moving with a kind of desperation that thrilled me, scared me, while his hand dug in the pocket of his jeans. The sound of a packet tearing briefly joined our ragged breathing, then he moved to his knees, shoving mine apart in the process.

Then he was over me, his hands in my hair. “I promise next time we’ll go slower but I can’t wait. You’ve hexed me.”

“I don’t think the devil performs hexes,” I croaked. All higher thought dissolved when he pressed against the heat at my center.

He worked inside me, slowly at first, then burying himself deep when he realized I was wet enough from our making out to do what he wanted. The steady rhythm mesmerized me, took me to another place made of sweat and muscled backs and hot breath on my neck. Where there was nothing but the perfect ecstasy of being stretched and full as Sam rocked against me, our bare skin pressed together. His lips trailed over my neck, one hand toying with my swollen breasts until I arched against him. He slid deeper inside me, our hips locking together, and our mouths grew hungry again. We wrapped together from mouth to feet, moving as one person, as though we’d been doing this for months instead of navigating a first time.

“You feel so fucking good,” he breathed into my lips.

I opened my eyes to find him watching me with an intense expression in his eyes. It felt unfamiliar, a far cry from the Sam who spent so much time going with the flow, taking each moment as it came, and the sight pushed me over some kind of emotional cliff.

It made me realize that maybe he could see something different, something more real, in my face, too, but I didn’t look away.

To my surprise, the expression in his eyes, our slicked skin, and his hardness inside me combined and built the beginnings of an orgasm. In my experience, those things had to be concentrated on, worked at, but the moment he saw the flicker of pleasure on my face he kept up an increasingly rapid pace. Every thrust rubbed me just right, and a wall of pleasure crashed over me without any warning. My legs went around his back, grinding my body against his as it pummeled me senseless, burning as though a wildfire devoured me from the inside out.

When it was over I couldn’t breathe. My muscles felt like jelly, except for my arms, which were locked around Sam’s neck. There were teeth marks on his shoulder, even though I didn’t recall biting him, but my brain was too detached from the rest of me to even think about feeling badly.