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Mouth to Mouth (Beach Kingdom 1)

Page 47

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“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It smelled like you,” she gasped, grinding the pad of her middle finger against her clit, rubbing it rapidly. Faster, faster. “You were around me, everywhere…the second b-best thing to having you on top of me—”

“Enough. Please,” he begged through clenched teeth, his hands working her breasts, his fingers pinching her nipples and making lights blink in her vision. “Dammit. I came here to be your boyfriend. Buy you cotton candy, hold your hand and treat you like the little sweetheart you are. Now all I can think of is…”

“What?”

Rory caught her right nipple between his knuckles and clamped down hard. “I want to drag you into the shadows and fuck you filthy.”

Oh my God. Yes. Olive felt the bolts tightening in her tummy, her thighs beginning to writhe on the fake leather seat. But before she could climax, the ride jolted, beginning to move again. Rory cursed again and tugged up the top of her dress, hiding her breasts from view once more. As soon as he finished the task, he snagged Olive’s wrist, removing it from the space between her legs, catching her mewl of protest by moving his hot mouth over hers.

“Take me somewhere,” she said, looking him in the eye.

A shadow passed across his face, but he gave a tight nod. And no sooner did the Ferris wheel let them off was Rory guiding her out of the carnival. Hand in hand, they climbed the steps onto the boardwalk, dodging the lively crowds spilling out the beachside bars and restaurants. Olive’s pulse went ninety miles an hour in her ears. Sticky warmth coated the insides of her thighs. Every pulse point in her body hummed like mini generators and they were all pulsing for this man who she trusted to lead her anywhere. So much that when he hopped the boardwalk rail and held his arms up, she had no doubt he would catch her.

Olive jumped, landing in his arms. Up against his hard chest, so reassuring, but so sexual in the way it flexed, inviting her to rub her sensitive breasts on him, twine her legs around his hips as they walked. She didn’t even care where they were going—Rory would keep her safe and he would satisfy her, thank God. Ever since meeting this man, her body was relentless in its need to be satisfied. It was an urgent quest now. She required Rory to survive. The erection wedged, thick and hard, between their bodies told Olive she wasn’t alone.

She was needed, too, and it was glorious.

They’d only been walking for a matter of seconds when Rory walked them beneath the boardwalk, into the darkness, footsteps pounding above their heads. His heart pounded, too. Olive heard it as she slid down his body, his mouth attacking her from above before her toes touched the sand. And Jesus, his hands. They were under her skirt, inside the back of her panties, kneading her bottom with so much potent need, she felt dizzy on the receiving end.

“Tell me to calm down,” he rasped between kisses. “Tell me to bring you home and do this right. It should be right for you every time.”

“I love this. I need it.”

“Olive.”

She went down on her knees, her fingers tangling together in her clumsy attempts to unzip his jeans. The move was unplanned. She’d never gone down on someone before, but the desire to drive him past his breaking point was suddenly so strong, so undeniable, she couldn’t deny it. Rory tried to drag Olive back to her feet, but she wouldn’t go. “Please?” That single word stilled his actions, but his expression was pained. “I want to so bad.”

His hand drifted over the crown of her head. “Let me get on my knees for you instead.”

Olive had managed to drag down his zipper while he spoke and she rubbed her cheek now against his hardness where it strained inside his boxer briefs, making him hiss a breath. “You’ve done it for me every time.”

Strong fingers threaded through her hair, shaking but hesitant. “S’because I’m addicted to the flavor you keep between your thighs,” he said, voice deep, words slurring. “If I could get away with licking it even more, I would.”

Her core throbbed at his words. “My turn,” she murmured, easing down the waistband of his briefs, exhaling in a rush when he sprang free. Huge. Heavy. Long. Knowing Rory would pull her off the ground if she showed the slightest hint of trepidation, Olive wasted no time wrapping both hands around Rory’s wide root and guiding the head of his arousal to her mouth. She licked around the smooth dome and let him slide into her mouth, over her tongue.

“Christ,” Rory grated, his fingers tensing in her hair. “Oh God, baby. S’good. Oh God.”

The praise met her ears like a caress and sent her confidence soaring. She stroked him with eager hands toward her mouth, marveling at the way his flesh swelled with every tight pull of her fists, a hint of saltiness sliding down the back of her throat. So many textures to memorize at once, the abrasive hair of his inner thighs tickling her cheeks, his calloused fingers scraping her scalp, the ridges of his cockhead gliding over the tip of her tongue. The way her throat rebelled when Rory started to flex his hips ever so slightly, introducing his insane hardness deeper than it had gone before.


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