When his hand cups my breast, my entire body lights up. I want to keep doing everything with him, over and over. I feel desperate for it, like a thirst I never quite quenched until last night.
I press back into him, feeling him hard against my thigh. “Like this,” I tell him. “Just like this.”
He slides his leg between my knees to give himself some space. His wayward hand slides down to edge a finger inside me.
I suck in a breath. I feel wickedly alive. The sun is rising over the trees, and everything around us is softly lit. There is no cover of darkness, no flickering light. We can see everything.
I watch him work me with practiced strokes. My breath catches. Why has no one else been this good? Is it the solitude? The sun? The wait?
My hips move against him, wanting him inside me. “Please,” I whisper.
He shifts, adjusting the angle of his body, then he’s there, buried deep. His fingers keep working me, and now I’m flooded with pleasure.
I don’t want to close my eyes, watching the day grow bright, the breeze picking up from the ocean and making the palm trees sway.
The mist begins to burn off, revealing the waves and the endless blue of the sea. Rhett moves faster and I clutch the sand again, almost laughing that I’ve made the same mistake all over again.
I feel high, like I’ve taken some wondrous drug. I’m sober now but drunk on sunlight and the salty air. And Rhett, doing that thing again with his fingers until I’m wound up like the string on a yo-yo, waiting for him to let me fly.
He’s in control of me. My body and its response are completely in his hands.
He uses his knee to spread my legs wider. More fingers go in, and that’s it. I unspool, the breeze brushing against the tips of my nipples, the sand shifting beneath my hip.
Rhett works me from behind and inside and I shout to the sky all the words that break free.
He groans behind me, and we’re warm and wet together. I’ve barely descended to the earth and already, I’m desperate to do it again.
I’ve never felt so insatiable, so overcome. When he’s still, I roll over and push him onto his back. I swing a leg over him, my hair falling down my back as I straddle his body.
“Why do I want to do nothing but this over and over again?” I ask.
He brushes my hair back from my eyes. “Because we waited too long.”
I know he needs a minute. I remember how guys work. But I need him again.
I glide my body over him, slippery and full of need.
“Fuck, Bailey,” he says as he gets hard again. “The things you do to me.”
He reaches for my waist, but I pin his hands down. “I’m going to do whatever I want to you.”
He allows it, and I stay astride, moving until he’s inside me again.
This time I take it at my own pace, up, down, side to side. I bear down, taking in every inch until our bodies grind together.
I can’t seem to get close enough. I look at every part of him now that it’s light. The bulge of his shoulders and biceps lead to the strong hands pinned near his ears.
The light plays across his jaw, his neck, and his honed chest. His nipples are small and brown, perfectly centered on each pectoral. His belly falls flat and smooth to where I work him, his ab muscles shifting as I move.
I work him hard, sweat popping along my hairline. The urgency becomes a desperate plead from my body, like middle school me trying to do a pull up on the bar in gym class. I reach for the relief of it, my eyes squeezed closed in concentration.
My mind conjures flowers blooming, petals opening as I work to the brink of collapse. I never want this to end, but I want it more and more. I gasp, on the verge of breaking down. Why am I so lost? Why do I need this so much?
At last, the strain of it moves into a high, teeming buzz that I feel everywhere simultaneously. My body tightens and I can’t even breathe. It’s so intense, so hard, so overwhelming. It’s like time has stopped.
I hold still, teetering on this brink, high on exhaustion. I open my eyes, seared by the brightness of the morning. Rhett waits, his gaze on me, the skin of his neck and chest red, like when he was so upset yesterday.
It’s all the same. That passion. That emotion. Such a fine line between hate and lust.
I take in a gulp of air, a sweet deep breath, and just like a cartoon character who has been hovering in sky after running off a cliff, I start to fall.
Every muscle gives way at once. I scream, the cry so long and so loud that it drowns out the ocean. My body sprouts like a time-lapse of a row of seeds. My skin prickles with pleasure, the breeze, and Rhett’s eyes on me.
I don’t know where he stands, if he came again, or not. I can’t think about it. I fall onto him in slow motion, my skin melting into his. My head tucks into that comforting space between his neck and shoulder.
Darkness claws at me. It’s too much. My life. The storm. This man. What I want. What I just got.
He draws his arms around me and somehow, despite the new day, the rising heat, and the sand everywhere, I fall asleep again.
They are figuring it out!
Chapter 26 will also go up today. Don’t miss it!