Mouth to Mouth (Beach Kingdom 1)

A heavy shudder moved through Rory, and since they were plastered together, it vibrated her body along with his. “You don’t mean that,” he said thickly, his right hand dropping, slowly cupping her sex and pressing, pressing, grinding his palm against it, drawing a shocked sob from Olive. “You’ve never had a man anywhere near this, have you?”

“No,” she gasped.

“Fuck.” He pressed his middle finger to her clit, massaging her through the wet material of her bikini bottoms. “Taking this for myself will earn me a place in hell.”

“No it won’t.”

“It’s not happening,” Rory cut in harshly, quieting her with a hard kiss. “I can take away the ache other ways.” Olive’s knees weakened as Rory knelt down on the tile floor, the spray rushing over his head as he leaned in, exhaling against the triangle of her bottoms once, twice, before tugging them down to her ankles, devouring the sight of her. “Son of a bitch. It’s as beautiful as the rest of you,” he rasped, pressing his mouth and nose to her intimate flesh, breathing her in. “Last chance, Olive. Tell me I shouldn’t lick your virgin pussy, baby, please.”

Yeah right. She’d been fantasizing for a long time about having sex, introduced to every aspect of intimacy through books. Even on the page, this kind of foreplay had never really appealed to her. Obviously, she’d been shortsighted since she was practically restraining herself from climbing onto his shoulders. Anything to stop the incessant flames from licking her skin. To stop the churn of frustration inside of her, begging for relief. “Rory.” She slipped her fingers into his hair and guided him closer. “I need you.”

“You had to say that.” He pushed his closed mouth up against her softness, his big shoulders lifting and falling on a groan, then his lips began moving in the open-mouthed writhe of a kiss, the action shifting the flesh shielding her core, easing the sides apart, exposing her clit. His upper lip grazed her nub gently, and Olive almost hit the ceiling. Her reaction seemed to drive Rory a little crazy, his fingertips digging into her hips, yanking her lower body closer to his mouth. The hard, slick glide of his tongue separated her flesh further and journeyed over her clit in a slow, deliberate lick. “Goddamn, you taste so fucking sweet. You going to melt on my tongue like a good girl, Olive?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“You make sure to tell me when you’re going to come.” He razed the inside of her thigh with his teeth, then returned to her private flesh, parting her with another thorough lick. “I want to lap up as much as I can before the shower washes it away.”

Olive’s head tipped back on its own, her back arching away from the wall. “Oh my God. O-okay. Okay. Oh my God.”

Rory formed a V with his fingers, holding her flesh open—and spent a full minute flicking his tongue against her clit without pause or mercy. All the while, Olive babbled begging words, a scream building in her chest, until she finally let it loose.

“Rory,” she whimpered, growing desperate, the sound of her physical distress still echoing off the walls. “I’m going t-to…”

He took his tongue away but used the pad of his thumb to tease her swollen bundle of nerves, never stopping, never letting up. She watched beneath heavy lids as his licked a path straight up the center of her belly, closing his teeth around the string that connected the triangles of her bikini, nudging them aside. They went easily, since her breasts had essentially heaved themselves halfway to freedom. And the shower pelted his head, coasting down her body as Rory closed his mouth around her nipples, groaning as he sucked them, his fingers masterful between her thighs. “These tits,” he growled, licking across to her other breast. “Made me hard clear across the beach.”

Olive’s stomach shuddered, her vision beginning to blur, tension creeping, coiling in her mid-section. “I hate them,” she managed, her legs trembling. “Or I used to? They seem good to go right now—oh.”

Rory grazed her nipples with his teeth, and a string pulled taut deep inside of her. She begged him in gibberish to do it again, but his mouth was already journeying back downward, replacing his fingers to suckle her clit gently—and Olive saw stars. That gathering pressure beneath her navel gave way like a collapsing cliff and she tasted blood in her mouth, courtesy of attempting to trap her scream of his name. It got loose anyway, bouncing off the walls and sounding nothing like her. She pressed her hips closer to Rory’s mouth and writhed on his giving tongue, the orgasm gripping her like an iron fist, squeezing, squeezing, her inner walls bearing down, searching for more.

“Inside me,” she sobbed, meaning it that moment with every fiber or her being. “Rory, I-I think I need you inside me.”