One Week with the Marine (Love on Location)

“God, you’re beautiful.”

“Hot,” she corrected him again, but he shook his head.

“No, beautiful.” He braced his hands on either side of her hips and leaned forward, nudging the fabric of her bra aside to take one of her nipples in his mouth. “Gorgeous,” he murmured, then moved to take the other as she unclasped her bra and her breasts were free for him to explore.

He took each of them in hand, massaging them lightly as he surveyed her body and marveled again at exactly how lucky he was to be with someone like her. He needed to show her, needed her to feel it without him saying a word.

So, he kissed his way down the plane of her stomach until he reached the hem of her panties.

“Perfect,” he murmured. Then he pushed the scrap of lace aside and teased her with his thumb, runni

ng the pad of his digit up and down her slick folds over and over until he found her tight bud and swirled it gently, casually, until she quaked and trembled. And all the while, he watched her, taking in the hollow of her throat, the way her breath caught when he found her clit, the way her thighs tensed and relaxed with every stroke.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked, her breath catching as he teased her sensitive bud again.

“I want to watch you,” he murmured. “I like the way your eyelashes flutter when I do this.” He pushed a finger inside her waiting heat, and her thighs quaked. “I like the way your breasts bounce when I move in and out of you.” He pistoned his fingers to show what he meant, and she let out a slow hiss of approval.

Gingerly, he leaned forward and kissed the space between her legs, swirling his tongue until her trembling became writhing, and she rocked her hips against him with every move of his fingers, almost as if she couldn’t help herself. Like she needed him.

He kissed her deeper, lapping her core until they found a rhythm. She rocked harder and harder against him with every thrust, needing him more with every movement. She was close, he knew, and he had half a mind to thrust inside her and feel her break apart around his hardness. He wanted—no, needed—to feel her lose control in his arms. Needed her to need him that way.

But that could wait, too.

Right now, he would watch her. Watch as her mouth rounded into a tiny O and she split apart, shaking with pleasure as he made her come undone, made her show that she wanted him every bit as much as he wanted and needed her.

“Yes, Avery,” he growled between licks. “Yes, baby. Come for me.”

“Holden,” she said, but the final syllable broke off and she gasped again, gripping the covers beneath her.

“Come on, baby,” he encouraged. And then her walls tensed, and he worked his fingers with greedy desperation, allowing her need to take hold as he pushed her over the edge. Her cheeks turned a bright red that spread all the way down to her chest.

“I…” But whatever she’d wanted to say was washed away in a deep, needy moan as the final waves of her pleasure took hold.

“Yes, baby,” he murmured. “Just like that.”

…

Avery lay on the bed, panting, her body so hot that even the cool sheets didn’t help.

She had to control her reaction to him. Every movement of his tongue felt like a caress on her skin, like a love note. She could taste the longing in his every kiss. And it was breaking her in a way she couldn’t understand. It was as if she was being driven to join him in a deeper sort of intimacy, more than they’d ever had, more than she’d ever dreamed was possible. But she couldn’t. She didn’t dare wish for more…and risk losing what she had.

She’d already betrayed herself once, allowing him to touch her in a way she couldn’t handle. She’d let him watch her with those dark, curious eyes of his as she’d jumped off the precipice. But she couldn’t let that happen again, couldn’t let it continue. She had to take control—and fast.

“Get on the bed,” she rasped.

Holden smiled and shook his head, but he stood and pulled his jeans and boxers down in one quick tug. His cock sprang forward and for a moment, she just stared at it, fighting the urge to lick her lips as she took in his impressive length.

He took a step toward her, and she froze as he pulled his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. The contour of his muscles caught her off guard momentarily, but she gritted her teeth, determined to keep the upper hand.

She knew what would happen. The moment he touched her, what happened between them would be on his terms. Her body would be his to command. So, she stood, then took each of his biceps in her hands and pushed him gently toward the floor.

He laughed. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she asked as he sank to the floor. She straddled him.

“Avery—” he argued, but she rocked herself against his length and took his bottom lip between her teeth.

“Let me ride you,” she said. Then she gripped his shaft and took him inside her, inch by agonizing inch until he was buried to the hilt.