Walk on the Wild Side

She trembled as he slid his hands up her thighs, taking her dress up with them. She didn’t care how outrageous she was being. How fast this was. All she wanted was his touch—everywhere.

Despite the tightness contracting her muscles, her legs wouldn’t hold her any more. She leant back against him. Firm hands on her waist pulled her down to her knees, an inch of water washed over her legs—delightfully cool against her burning skin.

‘You want to surf something?’ He nuzzled the nape of her neck.

She tried to push her knees farther apart to give him better access, but they dug into the wet sand. He’d knelt, too, his front sealed to her back, his thighs framing hers, his erection pressing behind her. She couldn’t answer, her breathing shot, so hot, as he kissed over the top of her shoulders. His warm breath skimmed over her chest, teasing her nipples to even tighter nubs.

His big arm curled around her, his forearm pressing against her belly as his hand reached lower, fingers slipping under her dress and then beneath the band of her silk knickers. She shuddered as he went lower still, touching her intimately—gently, slowly finding that swollen spot that was so sensitive. His other hand wrapped around her, too, teasing her breasts—cupping them, gently massaging and then tormenting each taut nipple.

She rocked against him, turning her head back to catch his mouth with hers. She liked the strong kisses, she liked the feeling that she was encircled in his power. He was all around her, and in the prison of his arms she sensed she was about to soar. His caresses were sweet rhythmic torture as he kissed her hard.

She ran her hands over his thighs—spreading her fingers wide over their rock solid strength, rubbing him harder as her excitement grew. His touches quickened in response, and went lower, deeper into her slick heat.

She cried out as he pushed inside. His fingers thrust as she ground down on them in ecstasy. His thumb massaged her clit some more—driving her crazy. She was hot and wet and squirming but it still wasn’t enough. Her head fell back, resting on his shoulder. He kissed her neck, sucking, savouring as his fingers plunged and stroked deeper still.

Encompassed by heat and strength and sex, she groaned in pleasure, unable to form the words to beg for what she wanted—for more, all of him, the ultimate intimacy. Her fingers dug into his thighs but it was too late—the pressure built, too much for her to hold, bursting her apart. He held her tight against him as she convulsed, the pleasure coming in violent waves that were too exquisite to endure.

Closing her eyes in the white-hot intensity, she cried out, her raw scream ringing out across the empty beach.

Shuddering, she collapsed back, overwhelmed. Gently he stroked the inside of her thighs, soft swirling touches that sent sparks rippling through her system. It was no longer blood that travelled along her veins, but brilliant light—a kaleidoscope of colour and sensation. And all of it magnificent.

As she floated halfway back to reality she felt the coiled tension in him—iron solidity contrasting with her liquid, languid muscles.

‘Feel better now?’ he asked softly in her ear.

She had no hope of voicing an answer—no words could express how she felt. No one had ever done that before—no one had held her and focused so purely on her and her needs alone. No one had made her feel so alive. No one had made her feel so fulfilled—and so hungry.

She moved, redrawing her strength, twisting round to look at him. Slowly she shook her head. She said nothing, just crossed her arms over her body, took hold of her dress and pulled it up over her head. She tossed the thin silk up the beach behind him.

Boldly she watched him watch her. She saw his swallow, saw the colour staining his golden skin, saw the sheen of sweat on his forehead, saw the tension in his every muscle. He really did want her.

She was so glad she’d decided to wear her very best matching black bra and knicker set to the beauty salon that morning. Silly how important it seemed to impress another woman—especially one who was about to wax your most private areas. But now she watched with victorious pleasure as his breathing became more ragged as he gazed at the scraps of silk and the detailed lace that made a peek-a-boo show of her nipples. Her breasts pushed tightly against the material and her knickers were drenched—but he knew that already.

She reached forward and lifted the hem of his T-shirt. His breath hissed as he held up his arms so she could get it off him.

‘You want it all?’ he muttered roughly.

‘Yes, please.’ She leaned forward and kissed his throat, nuzzling the stubble-roughened skin of his jaw.

‘Are you sure?’

She pulled back to look in his eyes. ‘Don’t you want to?’

‘Oh, honey,’ he choked on a laugh. ‘I want like you wouldn’t believe. But don’t feel like you have to—’

‘Oh, I have to. I absolutely have to.’ Smiling with relief, she ran her hands over his chest, marvelling at his physique. He was tall and big but not body-builder beefy. Rather he was long and lean. His skin stretched smooth and warm over him—not an ounce of fat beneath, just honed muscles. High Definition in the flesh. And so much better than any onscreen star. He tensed even more as she spread her hands wide over the light sprinkle of hair, the tips of her little fingers teasing ever so lightly over his mouth-watering nipples.

Yes. She wanted like she couldn’t believe as well.

She reached up and kissed him, sucking his lip into her mouth, feeling a weird freedom to explore every kind of fantasy with him. Because this was all fantasy now—a fantasy moment on a fantasy beach that she had to make the most of. His hands encircled her waist and she kissed him as if she’d never kissed another—with nothing but passion, hiding none of her need. Not feeling in the least self-conscious or shy or inadequate, just turned on and ready for pure pleasure, pure indulgence.

She knelt closer, pressing on his lap. ‘Come on.’ She wanted him in her and pounding hard, hard, hard.

‘Make me.’ His eyes glittered with diamond-bright light.

Anticipation tingled through her at his challenge. How reckless of him—it was more than an invitation to play, she wanted to torture. She wanted to drive him wild. To make him shake and beg for release as he’d made her. And she wanted him to have an orgasm like the one that was still sending aftershocks along her nerves, leaving her with that incredible driving need for more.

He was utterly motionless as she undid the button on his long denim shorts, and unzipped them. His erection sprang free. Commando man, huh? She pushed his chest. He smiled and lay back onto the sand, the water lapping his skin. Astride him in her underwear, she looked down at the embodiment of sensual perfection. He knew what he was doing, he totally knew. An experienced lover. But that was OK, because today she wanted the best. She’d never had the best of experiences in bed, never been brilliant, as her ex had brutally informed her, but now the lingering high from the most awesome orgasm of her life gave her confidence, and from the way Jack’s muscles were straining she thought she had a shot at not bad.

So her smile matched his in wickedness. Until she realised she didn’t know where to touch, which bit to kiss. She bit her lip, let her finger walk over him to start while she decided. The rippling reaction of his muscles was inspiring—so she let her mouth follow the path. All too soon she knew what she wanted, the crunching urge deep inside her womb fuelled her passionate hunger to take him in her mouth and pleasure him until he’d only be able to see stars—right now. Straight to the joystick.

Her hand clamped round the base of his erection. He groaned as she kissed him. She felt his whole body tense up even more. She licked the head of him, swirling her tongue over the thick ridge. And then she opened up and took him in. He was big, silky soft and iron hard and she couldn’t get enough of him. She pumped her hand to match the movement of her mouth, intoxicated by the scent of him and the taste of salt, the heat of the sun beating down on her back. His breathing was as laboured as hers now so she used both hands, her tongue, and increased her speed and suction

.

‘Kelsi,’ he gasped. ‘If you want what I think you want then you have to stop.’ His fingers dug into her arms. ‘Now.’

Flushed, she lifted her head and looked up at him. She firmed her grip on him and spoke her mind. ‘I don’t want to stop.’ She wanted him to come hard and loud and utterly uncontrollably—as she had.

He closed his eyes. Flashed them open again, determination anew in his expression. He moved fast. Pulling the straps of her bra down, and then the cups, so her breasts were in his hands.

‘Beautiful.’ He strained up, gusting hot air on her nipple just before he sucked it into his mouth.

She shook, her fingers loosening their grip on him. At that he moved, flipping her over onto the sand, the water splashing as he pressed kisses to her belly, his hands peeling her sodden knickers down.

He stopped as he looked at her exposed body, his eyes widening. ‘You’re a redhead.’

Kelsi screwed her eyes shut. She wasn’t red. She wished she were—a lovely rich auburn or something. But in truth she was orange. As in carroty. Bright orange hair with almost see-through skin that freckled up the moment she got within ten miles of a sunny spot. She’d spent her childhood being teased about it—dyed it the minute she’d had the money to buy the chemicals. Thank goodness for L’Oreal.

But she was still orange down there, although she’d thought about dying that many times, too. Sensitive skin meant she’d never taken the risk. Her self-consciousness sprang back as the joy got killed. She moved, wanting to curl away so he could no longer see her. Years of taunts haunted her. The reaction was never good from men. She should have remembered that. But he moved, his hands gripping her, his leg weighing heavy on hers so she couldn’t escape. And he looked up at her, his blue eyes seeming to pierce right through her.

‘Don’t tell me you were going to get rid of it at the spa today.’ He slid a finger through the narrow strip of hair and suddenly she lost the ability to even think about moving away. ‘It’s beautiful.’ He stroked her some more before bending down and licking her as slowly and with as much reverence as a man knowing it was his last ever taste of paradise. ‘Don’t ever get rid of it.’

It was the first time a man had even hinted that he liked it. The few others she’d been with had seemed to find it amusing—and not in a way that made her feel very sexy.

Jack looked up at her, registering how still she was. ‘I mean it.’ And then he bent again, his mouth convincing her wordlessly.

Her legs parted wider with his touch, her desire skyrocketing again—only more so. Never had she felt so desired. Never had she had someone hold her like this.

‘Jack.’

‘Yeah.’ He twisted, grabbing the shorts that were halfway down to his ankles. He pulled them off, pulled his wallet from the pocket, pulled a condom from that. She was glad he’d thought of contraception because it hadn’t even occurred to her in the madness that was this lust. In moments he’d rolled it on and was back beside her, his hand heavy and low on her stomach.