Page 34 of Cruel Existence

Her hair fell out of her bun and stuck to her shoulders. She began to ride up and down. I watched as she tried to take control of the sensations. The tiny whimpers she made were driving me fucking insane. I wondered if my plan was falling apart. Who was seducing whom?

“Shh,” I tried to calm her and make her ignite at the same time.

“Fuck, Luka,” she hissed when I flicked her clit like I owned it. I worried we’d bring the cabana down with us.

“Say that again,” I growled.

“Fuck, Luka.” She drew the words out slowly over her plump lips.

I covered her mouth with mine at the first sign she was about to come. I saw the shudder hit her. I felt the quiver wrap around my fingers. I licked her lips. Kissed her. Held her on her feet while she rode out the climax. Her eyes opened with a long, sweet sigh. I brought my fingertips to my tongue. That was a mistake. I was already addicted.

“Fuck. I want to rip this suit off you and kiss you. Suck you. Taste you, Amara. Thenfuck you.”

Her eyes lit with a flicker of flames. “You do want that, don’t you?”

I sank to my knees, drawing the red two-piece to the tile floor. I blew a breath between her thighs as she whimpered. She was already wet. Slick. Her hips rolled on their own, toward me.

“Is there any doubt I have every intention of doing all those things to you?”

“No,” she whimpered. “We’re going to get caught.”

“I don’t know that we can stop what we’ve started. I haven’t seen you in a week, Amara. There is a consequence when you push me away for so long.”

“I know,” she whimpered. “I shouldn’t have.”

My hands rounded to her ass, pulling her toward my face. She climbed on my shoulders, willingly, needy, desperate for me to satisfy the same ache in her that I had within me. My tongue met her demands with a forceful plunge.

She hissed as I lapped against her, swirling over her entrance, and taking her clit between my teeth.

I looked up at her, suspended in my arms. “Still want me to stop?” I taunted.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she growled.

I grinned. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Not the way you taste.”

I squeezed her soft skin in my hands, gripping her with a rhythm that urged her to match the thrusts of my tongue. She quickly fell into the rhythm. My tongue darted in and out. Faster. With urgency, I hadn’t felt before. I wanted to inhale her. Take my time. Savor every drop of her. But I knew we were running out of time. This was a dangerous place to pleaseher and more importantly, I had to convince her to come with me. I wrapped a solid arm around her, giving myself a free hand to tease her clit. That was it. The master stroke that undid all her restraint.

The second orgasm crashed over her and burst forth like a flooded release she had damned up and hidden from me since we met. Her hands dug into my hair, but I had a firm grip. I wasn’t letting her go. I would never let her fall. I drank from her, sucked, lapped, and kissed every part of her between her legs. My cock was at full attention, strained inside my pants, but this felt so fucking good, holding her while she surrendered to me. Or maybe I was the one surrendering. I was on my fucking knees for this woman. Risking everything just to give her one perfect orgasm.

“I want more, but…” Her breath was ragged. Her thighs pressed against the rough sides of my cheeks. This was heaven.

“I know. I know, baby. You’ll have it.” I had barged into her father’s house. I was dangerously close to getting a bullet in the back of my skull. “Not here.” I realized I had maybe taken things too far and put her in danger too. I could be a selfish bastard to get what I wanted.

I pried her arms from me, helping her to her feet once the crest of her orgasm ebbed. She was shaky and wobbled.

“I made my point.” I stood, trying to flatten out the rather solid erection in the front of my pants our situation had caused before I walked out of the changing room.

“You came here to make a point?” She still breathed heavily. She shimmied into her bikini.

“I think I made it.” I could taste all her essence. And it was fucking sweet. I wanted more. I wasn’t nearly done with her.How did I create space now? How did I not carry her upstairs to her room, remove the last bits of this fabric, and bury myself inside her?

“And what is that exactly?” She stood, facing me with her hands on her hips. Hips that were tanned and slick with oil. Hips that fit perfectly in my hands.

“That the only reason you’re avoiding me has nothing to do with me and everything to do with what you’re afraid of. We could do this. We could leave,” I urged. “We don’t have to be a part of the family war this summer.” I had to convince her with any argument I could conjure up.

Her mouth opened in surprise. “How dare you say I’m too afraid to act on what I want.”

I grinned, wiping the last bits of her juices from my mouth. “Face it. You’re scared, Amara. What else would keep you here instead of out there with me?”

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