Cape Cod Kisses (Love on Rockwell Island 1)

“Yes,” she gasped out. “Yes.”

Together they stripped her bare, both of them teasing and tempting as each new soft patch of skin was revealed despite their frantic need. He had to touch, had to taste every bit of her as she was revealed.

As they drew fabric away, both of their hands shaking now as cotton was thrown across the deck and silk and lace fell to the deck, he ran kisses over her shoulders, her arms, her hands, then back up to her breasts. His tongue left a wet swirl of heat over her nipples, then down to her rib cage and the sweet indent of her belly button.

That first night he’d seen her naked, but though she’d stunned him with her beauty and had been so soft and sweet in his arms, tonight was truly their first time together. Tonight was the first time he was stripping her bare with his own hands while knowing that they both needed each other with a passion that was fierce and unstoppable and beautiful.

So damn beautiful that when she was finally fully naked beneath him, he needed to take a minute to reach deep for his control. But he knew he was just fooling himself to think he could ever be in control with her when she made him want, crave, need absolutely everything—body, heart, and soul.

Touching his forehead to hers, he whispered, “Shelley.” He was so awestruck by her beauty, by her scent, by her bravery—by every single thing about her—that he almost couldn’t remember how to form words, could only remember how to say her name.

She whispered his name back, and when she pressed her body to his mouth and hands and hips, he couldn’t stop himself from lavishing her skin with feverish kisses and caresses.

“You’re stunning, Shelley. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Beyond beautiful.”

She pressed her lips to his chest, kissing a path along his pecs, and when she swept her tongue over his chest, the animal in him took over. Took them both over, as their mouths crashed together, tongues slicking, hands groping. He stroked her where she was slick and hot, and her head tilted back with a sexy little noise that short-circuited whatever synapses he had that were still firing.

Desperation rode him, the desperation to take her right then, right there beneath the stars. But even more than that, he wanted to pleasure her. Needed to see her come apart for him. Needed to feel her quiver, hear her gasp, taste her pleasure on his tongue. He wanted her to remember his caresses, his kisses, when she woke up in the morning.

And he wanted her to crave them when she closed her eyes at night.

Quinn wanted to take the time to explore, to arouse, to pleasure her like no other man ever had. He drank in her flushed skin, her tantalizing scent, as he ran his lips from the gorgeous swell of her breasts to the sensitive dip beside the ridge of her hip, over her stomach. She arched her hips up into his hands, into his mouth, but he hadn’t had enough yet. Hadn’t given her enough anticipation, enough yearning, enough desperation yet.

He moved back up her body, feasting on her soft skin, loving her uninhibited response to the slicking tease of his tongue at the underside of her breasts, to the tug of his lips over her nipple, to the gentle scrape of his teeth over her pulse point. Intensity grew by the second, the moon shining brighter above them, the water going darker beneath them, as what was left of his control gave way to need that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to fully quench. Not even if they had a thousand nights like this.

Following the path of his hands down her torso with his mouth, he traced her hips with his hands, wanting to memorize every lush curve. And when her legs fell open wider, welcoming him, beckoning him, Quinn brought his mouth to the inside of her thigh. She gasped a breath as he teased her with his fingers, and she met each tease with a lift of her hips.

Needing more, wanting to see her so full of desire that she thought she might burst, he slid two fingers into her velvety heat, sinking deep inside.

So good. So, so good.

The blood was rushing so loudly through his brain that he might have missed her sweet words if he weren’t so utterly attuned to every breath she took. To every degree that her skin was heating up as she gave herself over to him more and more by the second. To the trembling of her limbs as he took her higher. Took both of them so damn high that he didn’t ever want to come down.

Her words echoed everything he was feeling, both of them gasping with the pleasure of their connection. He whispered the same thing against her skin—so good, so, so good—and then he lowered his mouth to her sweet, hot center. The first taste of her was pure heaven, and he couldn’t stop himself from taking more, and then more still.