Page 60 of Surfer's Paradise

His cock bounced against his stomach, so hard it fucking hurt, the air cool against his flushed skin.

Her eyes darkened.

Lit up, like something new and wild had just settled behind them.

His voice came out low, almost strangled. “Definitely dreaming.”

Then she climbed onto the bed. Slow. Deliberate. Straddling him, thighs settling over his lap, sitting back just enough to keep him from losing his goddamn mind.

Her hands were small, unsure, inexpert. But she still wrapped one around his cock, still dragged her fingers up his shaft, feeling the heat, the weight, the thick pulse beneath her palm.

Isaac groaned, his head pressing back against the pillow, his hips twitching up into her touch.

“Fuck,” he muttered, jaw clenched, muscles locked.

Her lips parted.

Fingers tightened, tested.

He gritted his teeth, his voice all wrecked and ruined. “Yeah, definitely fucking dreaming.”

And then she shifted, rising her hips up and pulling his cock towards the opening of her pussy. The moment Rosie lowered herself onto his cock, Isaac forgot how to breathe.

Forgot everything.

The world collapsed to this.

The stretch of her, the slick, slow glide of her body taking him into her pussy, inch by inch, so tight and hot and perfect that he swore he saw white.

His fingers dug into her thighs, gripping hard, his entire body locked up beneath her.

“Jesus Christ,” he gritted out, jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

Rosie made a soft, whimpering sound, her hands bracing against his chest as she sank lower, taking him deeper.

Isaac groaned, his fingers flexing, fighting the urge to just grip her hips and drive himself up into her.

But he didn’t.

Because this—this was hers.

She was taking what she needed.

And fuck if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

Her eyes fluttered shut, lips parted, breath uneven, her head tipping forward as she rolled her hips, testing, adjusting.

His cock throbbed, twitched, burned inside her.

He sucked in a sharp breath, watching her lose herself, watching her ride him like she wasn’t the same quiet, careful Rosie he’d known all his life.

No.

This Rosie was hungry.

She wanted.

She was taking.

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