Page 75 of Beached Wedding

He took my hand in his and set kisses in my palm and against the underside of my wrist and nuzzled the sensitive skin inside my elbow.

It was profound and mildly awful because it was too deliberate. I wanted to be swept away so we could pretend later that this wasn’t a conscious decision, but it was. I wanted this. With him. Only him.

I wanted to tell him I had never felt like this with any other man—so natural and delicious andglad. But I didn’t want comparisons. I didn’t want anything inside this moment but us.

I rolled against him in a press of joy and a cling of need, throwing herself more deeply into this experience to dampen intrusive thoughts.

He fell onto his back and pulled me over him. The playful move left me straddling his hips, startled, but then laughing in exhilaration.

“Damn.” He lazily played his fingers against my waist and hips and up, watching his hands as he slid them across my skin and cupped my breasts, plumping them before he swept his touch around to my shoulder blades. He urged me to come down, so my chest was above his chin. He turned his head to capture one nipple, drawing hard enough to make me squeak at the intensity of the sensation that pierced between my thighs.

“Hurt?” His hot breath wafted against the damp, beaded nipple. His tongue circled, fueling that rush of heat into my thong.

“No,” I sobbed. “It’s good. I like it.”

He took the other one, made me groan and clench my pussy muscles on another burst of wetness. I lifted my hips off him, self-conscious.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I straightened my arms, blushing. “I’m really turned on.”

“I know. I like it.” He looked down my front. His hands climbed my thighs so his thumbs were in the sensitive crease at the tops of my legs. His lashes hooded his eyes as he grazed the pad of his thumb against the gusset of my thong.

He made a noise that was low and pleased and used a tiny bit more pressure, just enough to have me biting my lip and dancing my hips to follow the movement.

He slid his thumb beneath, skimmed fine hairs in a frustratingly light, yet more deliberate, caress.

“Fox,” I breathed.

“Like?” He slid the fabric aside and watched as he delicately parted my slippery folds.

“Yes.” When he grazed my clit, my eyelids fluttered closed. A fresh pulse of heat released. I bit my lip, so swollen and sensitive, he barely had to touch my clit and I was quivering in anticipation.

I was more aroused than I’d ever been in my life. Aching so intensely that, before I realized what I was doing, I had set my hand over his and was showing him, pressing his touch deeper into my cleft, rocking in time to his circling. Biting my lip. So close?—

I abruptly moved his hand away. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t even,” he growled, bringing his thumb to his mouth to taste. “I want more of that.”

In an agile twist, I was on my back on the mattress, arms splaying out to catch myself before I’d realized that I had already landed safely. He pulled my thong down my legs, sliding away as he did.

When he brushed my legs open and settled between, so casual and confident, I forgot how to breathe. A wet kiss touched my inner thigh, making me twitch. He steadied me with a warm hand at the top of my thigh, stroking to coax me to open my legs wider. His hot breath clouded on my mound.

He groaned and licked on either side of my outer lips before flicking once with his tongue.

I jolted at the lash of pleasure, tensing as I braced for it to happen again.

He made a noise of amused pity. “I’ll be gentle,” he promised.

“Oh, please don’t be,” I groaned, letting my legs fall fully open.

Another chuckle wafted across my flesh, bringing every cell alive to the nearness of his mouth. He parted me with his fingers and settled in to grow very acquainted with the most intimate part of me.

This was Fox, I was thinking through my haze of lust, but nothing about this felt strange or wrong. Not when he was doing such glorious things. He pressed a finger into me.Two.

I moaned.

He paused. “Okay?” His touch retreated.

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