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Stolen Lust (Beauty in the Stolen 1)

Page 48

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“I-Ian.”

Fuck, yes. That’s what I want to hear. Her body takes me, softening to let me in.

“I can’t get enough,” I grit out. It’s part an apology, part a warning, because when I start to move, it’s with a harsh rhythm.

We’re not quiet or discreet. We grab at each other, our hands, hair, teeth, and tongues getting tangled as I devour her. Goddamn, she gives it right back, punishing me with the same urgency that drives me insane. Almost too late, I remember I didn’t bring a condom. Of course not. It wasn’t my plan to jump her in the water. It’s just what she does to me.

“Cas.” Groaning, I pull out. “I didn’t bring anything.”

“Finish me,” she says.

The authoritative tone has my ears ringing with want, but when she takes my hand and places it between her legs, I almost blow.

“Like this?” I ask, teasing that swollen little pleasure button with the tip of a finger.

Her answer is to cup my hand, overlaying our fingers, and slip our middle fingers inside her tight heat. Mother of… Holy fuck. Letting her use my finger, I watch as she pleases herself. I’ve never done anything hotter. She leans back to drift on the water, and I catch her nape to support her weight.

“I’m close,” she says, holding my eyes.

My voice is so gruff it sounds as if I haven’t used my vocal cords in weeks. “Go for it.”

She gives a small smile. “It’s been a while for me too.”

Yeah. I love the sound of that. If I had my way, I’d never let her touch another. She’s mine, but tomorrow, I’ll be gone. I can’t expect her to turn into a nun just because I’m a wanted man. On second thought, “Your orgasms belong to me. Say it.”

She breaks.

She comes with a gasp.

Yes, she says it perfectly like that. When she stops stroking that spot inside that makes her clench her legs around my hips, I start pumping.

She cries out, gripping my wrist. I’m overstimulating her, but I’m not stopping until she understands.

“No other man but me, baby doll.”

“What are you going to do?” she challenges. “Stalk me?”

The impossible notion stabs into my chest. The impracticality makes me not see red, but green. Jealous green. Fuck impossible and impractical. I like the idea way too much. She must see the resolution and desperation on my face, because she doesn’t push me. She gives up, floating in the water and taking my fingers. This time, it’s my hand alone that draws her pleasure, and three fingers that drag another short but intense climax from her body.

Her pussy is slick, her arousal coating my fingers when I’m finally calm enough to pull them out. I drag them down her thigh, making her feel that slickness so she understands who does this to her.

Me, and me alone.

“Finish me,” I say, dragging her to me with my hand around her nape and kissing the taste of chlorine from her lips. I’m using her earlier words like a weapon against her, but she holds all the ammunition.

With her condition, I’m not going to make her hold her breath under the water. I swim us to the shallow end and sit on the top step, spreading my legs. She looks at my cock, not as if she’s making up her mind about doing it, but rather about how she’s going to do it. I turn harder.

Wiping the wet strands of hair from her face, I twist the long locks over her shoulder so that her hair isn’t in the way. She goes down on her knees at the bottom of the steps. The water covers her almost up to her breasts. When she leans down, the water laps at her nipples. Such a pretty sight. She braces her hands on my thighs. I lean back and take it all in. The water is cool and dark. The footlights on the path don’t reach the deep end of the pool. From where I’m sitting, the water and sky bleeds black into one. With the moon reflecting on the water, we have our own galaxy, our own world right here in the water.

She makes a perfect picture, kneeling in front of me in the black pool of infinity. The croak of a frog pierces the chirp of the crickets. I like the sound. It’s a far cry from trains and traffic and everything I hate about cities. This, here, is paradise.

Then she closes her mouth around me.

My concept of paradise flies to the moon. This, she, is everything.

The water makes a sloshing sound as her movement creates small waves. I clench my fingers around the edge of the step for the fear of not being able to control my strength if I touch her now. There was a boy in our class who hugged his puppy so hard he almost strangled it. That’s how I feel, like I’ll strangle her with lust. I let her do the dirty work, lifting my hips to prevent her from swallowing water.



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