More Than Want You (More Than Words 1) - Page 8

I rush to set her at ease. “Why are you so fucking beautiful?”

“If you think I am, I’m glad. Are you going to touch me now?”

She sounds breathless and anxious. Does she imagine for a second that I might say no? As if.

“Yeah, sunshine. As much as you’ll let me.” I dip my head, fists in her pink tresses as I brush my lips up her throat. She’s so damn soft all over that I have to groan again.

Then her lips beckon once more, and I’m pulling her against me, back under me. I capture her lips, mold them under my own. Tonight, she shouldn’t have her lips anywhere except against mine—unless they’re around my cock, of course. But I can’t lift my head to tell her because I’m kissing her too thoroughly. My hands drift down her body, imprinting her curves into my memory. My fingers bite into her waist with urgency. It’s not enough. I want more of her. I don’t care if we come up for air. I hope she feels the same.

She must because she melts into me, her lips opening in teasing welcome. She wants me…but she wants me to work for it. You know what? I’m good with that. I always enjoy something more that I’ve earned.

So I’m going to be worthy of every scream of her pleasure.

I focus on nothing but Keeley. The moon and the waves and the sand disappear. Right now, only she and I share this space, this moment. I let the aphrodisiac of her flavor intoxicate me again. Like before, she goes straight to my head and I feel a special kind of drunk on her. I taste her lips, take her tongue. My right hand drifts down to cup her ass. I’ve got to touch her everywhere. She’s responding, her breathing heavier. She clutches my shoulders and holds me tight against her. Her left leg curls around my calf, her thigh sliding up mine.

My restraint snaps.

I plunge into her mouth full force. Like a skydiver at fifteen thousand feet, my belly tumbles into free fall. Gravity has nothing on this pull. What’s happening between us is a natural phenomenon all its own.

“I want you now.” I look at her. God, I can’t stop. I scan her eyes. They’re dilated, half-dazed, and so fucking soft. “Keeley?”

“What’s happening between us?”

“I don’t know.” Right now, I don’t care about anything except feeling her, getting inside her, putting my stamp on her.

“I want you now, too,” she admits in a breathy whisper, then kisses me once, twice, grabbing at my neck and pulling me down for a third.

No way I’m resisting.

I meld our mouths together again and cup her ass with both hands. God, she fills my palms, firm and plush and stunning. But I want the rest of her. I can’t wait anymore.

I lift her against my body, and she automatically wraps her legs around me, then devours me with a demanding kiss once more. Fuck, yeah. I’m already mentally inside her as I head for the rocks on the west side of the beach that provide the property privacy from the housing development hugging Oneloa Bay on the other side of the inlet.

It’s more of a hike than I thought. I’m not winded, just impatient. Keeley is, too. She’s climbing my body like she can’t get close quickly enough to keep her sanity.

Finally, we reach the rocky edge of the beach. I set her on one of the massive, water-smoothed stones. It’s dry now with the tide out, but come early morning, this place will be submerged.

The few seconds it takes me to steady her, Keeley dives into my shirt, unfastening one button after the other until she exposes my chest.

When the last one comes free, she shoves my shirt off my shoulders, grabs me for a frantic kiss, then sits back and stares, mouth gaping. “Oh, my god. You’re so perfect it’s disgusting.”

I shake my head. I’m hardly without flaw, but I won’t argue. My shoulders square. I puff my chest out—just a little. I want to keep impressing her, you know? Then I slide my hand up her thigh. Such silky-smooth skin. Firm. Enticing. Can I be inside her in the next thirty seconds?

My other hand follows the first, palming my way clear up to her hip. Holy shit. “You’re not wearing underwear?”

She peels her lips off my neck and breathes in my ear. “What? No. The dress showed panty lines. Is being commando a problem?”

“Are you kidding?”

I want to applaud her for making this process faster and easier. This is one efficiency I’ll never waste. But as I shove her dress up and bare her legs one alabaster inch at a time, I lose my ability to speak, so it’s a good thing she doesn’t want me for my verbal skills.

I tell her what I want without words, spreading her legs and looming between them. I tug the dress up higher, eager to see her natural hair color. Obviously, it isn’t pink.

But when I expose her pussy, she’s utterly bare. “Oh, sunshine…”

She spreads her legs a little wider. “You like me this way?”

I have a feeling I’ll enjoy her every way I can have her. But I want to put whatever worries she has to rest. “Oh, yeah. I like everything about you.”

Keeley flashes me something that isn’t quite a smile. Emotion blooms in her eyes, then makes its way to her wobbling lips. “I like you, too.”

Then she reaches for the cheetah-print sash she’s tied into a bow with a saucy tilt at her hip and pulls it free. With a tug, the dress unwraps and she’s completely naked, except for a black bra that looks strappy, lacy, and strains to contain her breasts. The swells at the top spill above the little garment and make my heart stutter.

“Take it off?” I’m trying not to sound like a demanding prick, but I’m not really asking.

Thankfully, she seems to understand and reaches behind her. A second later, it’s falling free onto the nearby rock. Then she leans back on her hands, bathed in moonlight, and blinks up at me with big blue eyes.

I’m never saying no to that.

Under her terrible dress is an absolute treasure. I can’t stop staring.

“You’re so damn beautiful. I feel like the luckiest bastard in the world right now.”

It probably sounds trite, like something a horny guy says to the girl he’s hoping to nail. But I’m serious. I’ve taken gorgeous women to bed, so I’d know. I don’t think Keeley would fit into any conventional definition of beauty, but there’s something about her. It’s as if I can see her soul just by looking into her eyes. I’m sure that sounds stupid. It’s new to me, that’s for damn sure. Keeley said earlier that she’s an open book. I believe her. She looks open to me in every way—eyes raised to my stare, lips parted, posture unguarded, legs spread. She is a woman giving her all to the man standing before her without hesitation or reservation.

I drag in a sharp breath as I watch her, feeling primal, possessive. My blood pounds. There’s something inside my chest that’s feeling soft like a marshmallow the longer I stare at her. I’ve never felt anything like this. I don’t welcome the sensation.

But I don’t have any control over it.

Looking back, that should have been my first clue that she would have the power to destroy me.

“I’m glad,” she whispers. “Aren’t you going to touch me?”

Definitely. Where the hell do I start? Every part of her demands my attention. She looks soft all over, like she’ll be a delight to my fingertips from tousled hair to toes. My mouth waters at the sight of her pert nipples. Peachy-pink and perfectly symmetrical, they’re stunning—like the rest of her. Her ivory flesh cascades down to a torso that tells me she’s healthy but not a slave to the gym. The night shields the secrets of her pussy. I know she’s bare, but I want details I can’t see while she’s shrouded in shadow. Even more, I smell her.

And I’m speechless. Good thing Keeley wants action, not words.

I manage a jerky nod, then all but tear away my belt buckle. Afterward, I unsnap the button. My zipper falls next. I fish the condom from my pocket. These interminable


moments I can’t touch her are pure torture, but I finally manage to shove my clothes aside and slide the latex down my cock. It’s throbbing in time with the rapid beat of my heart. Gong, gong, gong. The sensations are like some euphoric high. I haven’t touched drugs since I was a punk-ass kid rebelling against my dad, but this is more potent. Right now, she has me by the balls without laying a hand on me.

This craving for her will go away after the orgasm, right?

“Maxon?”

I give her a rough nod and step closer. “With you.”

Tags: Shayla Black More Than Words Erotic
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