The horrible tension leaks out of his shoulders. “Yes, my angel.”
“Good.” I hold his suspenders tighter and wade into the water, gasping as a wave comes along and surrounds my calves, gurgling with white. Duncan hovers beside me protectively, pressing closer the further we get out into the ocean. When the water reaches my waist, it’s still barely covering Duncan’s knees—and I can’t help but giggle, letting go of his suspenders and reaching up to use his broad shoulders for balance. “I have a secret,” I say, kissing his bare chest, now flavored with salty ocean spray.
“What is it?” he says, gruffly, watching me with his heart in his eyes.
“I don’t know how to swim.”
Duncan turns ghostly pale, a choked noise tripping over his harsh lips. “Please stay right beside me, Thea.”
“I will.” I lick across the ruddy disc of his nipple. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
He grunts, exhales in a rush and gathers me close, his hands twisting in the sides of my wet slip. “Please. I don’t want to be distracted.”
“Distracted by what?” I murmur, raking my teeth over his other nipple. His erection powers straight up between us, so fast I can practically see his vision doubling. And I walk my fingers over that turgid bar lightly, barely enough to be felt through the material of his wet pants. “Take this out.”
There is a confident hum in my bones, in my heart, telling me what this man needs. Even if he’s conflicted. He eyes the water with distrust, but they heat to a fever pitch when he looks back at my fingers, still tracing the outline of his shaft. Needing me to anchor him. Needing contact with someone who sees him. Knows him. And wants him. “I have to keep you safe,” he says raggedly. “Have to keep my angel safe.”
“You will.” I make sure he sees in my eyes how positive I am of the fact. How safe and secure I am within his reach. I give him my trust as another form of anchoring and he accepts it, gratitude in his eyes. “Let me see it,” I whisper, tapping my index finger against his bulge.
Briefly, he glances back over his shoulder. At the beach dotted with people. “Here?”
I nod, peeling down the straps of my slip so he can look at my breasts, knowing not a soul on the beach can see around Duncan’s extensive frame. “Keep your back to the beach and no one will know what a horny giant you are.”
Eyes clenching shut, he bites down hard on his bottom lip and quickly unfastens his pants, shoving down the zipper—and out tumbles his engorged sex, balls purple and mottled beneath. “Ah, Jesus, Thea,” he pants. “You make it so stiff.”
My pout is sympathetic, but my grip is tight as it circles him, pumping him roughly. “How many strokes would it take to make you feel better?”
“I…” His fingers have sunk into his hair, those teeth drawing blood in his lower lip. He can’t seem to think clearly enough to form words. “Five, lass. Please, just five.”
Slowly, very slowly, I ride my fist up his shaft, then back down, twisting at the root where his shaft meets his balls. “One.” Again. “Two.” His giant chest starts to puff up and down quickly, his gaze growing even more unfocused. “Three.” This time when I reach the base of his sex, his balls press up tight to my wrist, quivering, poised for release. Droplets of sweat form in the hollow of his throat, muscles tense. A prayer in his eyes.
His power contained in my small hand.
I loosen my hold slightly and he curses, hips rutting forward for the fourth stroke, searching to get the traction he needs, but I’ve taken it away.
Leaning in, I kiss him lovingly on the chest. “Put it back now.”
What I said before, back at the gallery, about him loving the way I tease him? It wasn’t a lie or an exaggeration. And that was never more obvious than now as he zips his erection back into its prison, his eyes nothing short of worshipful, grateful, riveted on me.
“Thank you, angel.”
He opens his safe, formidable arms and I climb into them, resting my head on his shoulder on the way to the car. Letting everyone we pass see my absolute trust in him.
Chapter 7
Duncan
Until Thea, I was floating aimlessly through endless black space. She’s the star that has welcomed me into the light, put my feet on solid ground. I’m no longer slowly tumbling end over end in a zero-gravity atmosphere. One word out of her mouth or bat of her eyelashes and I’m more alive, more stable, than I knew was possible. Instead of being numb, I can now feel the intense arousal of my body, the harsh and wonderful pull of my groin, the thundering of my heart. Does it hurt when she plays with me? God, yes. But only because it makes me feel so alive, so present in my skin, for the first time in decades, I could erupt.