Page 52 of Covetous

“Love didn’t ruin them. Their choices did. Their habits did.”

Damn. He’s right. “Logically, Ian and I make sense. We’re good on paper or whatever.”

He cups my cheek, drawing a sudden gasp from my lips. There’s a war in his eyes—a fire and desperation that nearly pulls me under. “Who gives a fuck how you look on paper? What matters is how he makes you feel…how he treats you.”

The air between us is electric, our breathing heavy as we subconsciously lean in, drawn to each other like magnets.

“We can’t,” I whisper with zero conviction.

“We shouldn’t,” he agrees, his voice deep and husky and dripping with desire straight down to my panties.

“It’s not right.” My hands find his shoulders, my fingertips pressing into his skin as I rub the tip of my nose against his.

“It’s fucked up.” He echoes my thoughts, but neither of us is willing to stop when he drags his hand under my hair to the nape of my neck, causing my hood to slip off.

“So fucked up.” I wet my lips, and it’s all the invitation he needs to lean in for a kiss, but I hold him back with my hand on his chest. “Whatever this is, it can’t leave this beach.”

A flicker of something vulnerable crosses his face, quickly masked as he nods, understanding the boundary I’ve set. Then his mouth is on me, his kiss insistent, his tongue intertwining with mine in a dance of equal parts desire and desperation.

I don’t want to stop, ever. But that’s not how this works. They’ll hate us—everyone. There’s too much at stake, too many judgments waiting to sweep us away.

Kissing Victor is everything and more than I thought it would be. It’s torture in the best possible way. I want him so badly it hurts, but at the same time, I know this can’t last forever. Eventually, we’ll have to face the reality of what we’re doing. But that’s for another time.

Right here, right now, as we lose ourselves in this kiss, I want more. This is our only chance to do this and it not be cheating—technically. It’s a break, not a betrayal. At least that’s what I’m telling myself as he gently guides us down onto the blanket.

We let our bodies do the talking as we grind against each other with insatiable hunger. He could take me right now, yank my pants down and shove his cock inside me, and I wouldn’t stop him. I’m his to take—to fuck. But it’s not what he does. He slows things down, his hardness digging into me with slow, sensual, powerful thrusts. Shit. If he keeps this up, I’ll come just like this. My clit is already pulsing.

His eager hands roam over my body, pulling up my hoodie and shirt up my torso and over my breasts. Electric-blue eyes meet mine as he moves his hands around my back and unbuckles my bra, pulling the satin fabric down my breasts. He lowers his mouth to my nipple, swiping his tongue over the pebbled flesh while rolling my other nipple between his fingers, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.

Good God. If this is a preview of what’s to come, sign me the fuck up. It’s almost too much to handle, the pleasure overwhelming. I’m losing control beneath him, writhing, bucking, and moaning like a cat in heat as he takes turns sucking on both breasts before dragging his lips back up to mine.

Our breaths are ragged as we finally break apart, my lips raw from the intensity of our kisses. “Your tits are fucking perfect.”

A breathless chuckle leaves me. “I want to feel your skin against mine.”

A slow, lazy smile spreads across his face as he runs a hand through my hair. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“Don’t fucking care.”

Without hesitation, he captures my mouth again in a tender yet urgent kiss. It’s like fire and ice melting together, a perfect balance of passion and tenderness. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice husky.

“Make me yours tonight.”

He looks down at me with something like wonder in his eyes, and I look at him with love in mine. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I get to have him, even for only one night.

We take each other’s clothes off, piece by piece, savoring the moment as we trace every curve and outline of our bodies. He’s undeniably sexy, each tattooed ripple of muscle firm beneath my fingertips. When we’re fully exposed, Victor settles between my legs. I’m trembling, not because I’m cold—he has the blanket draped over us—but because of the pure, raw need pulsing through my body.

“You’re so goddamn pretty,” he says, tracing a gentle line down my cheek and over my breasts. His mouth follows the same path, kissing and nipping at every inch of my body until he reaches my most intimate place. “Every fucking part of you is perfect.”

With one long lick of his tongue down my slit, my hips jerk off the blanket. He holds me down with his hands on my hips, then spreads my legs wide. I’m completely open to him, gripping him by the head as he sucks my clit into his mouth. And oh my God.

“Damn, you taste good. I can eat you for days on end,” he says as he works my pussy over, swirling his tongue in an alternating rhythm—fast and slow, hard and soft—bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

“Don’t stop,” I beg.

What I’m feeling and the sounds he’s making as he groans and slurps my arousal, coupled with my moans and gasps, light my body on fire. The stars in the sky pale in comparison to the ones exploding behind my closed eyelids as I climax harder than I ever have in my entire life, self-induced included.

Holyfuckingshit. Every inch of my skin tingles with my anticipation to feel him inside me. My need for him is almost too much to handle, sort of like the size of his cock. But I’m so here for it.

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