Page 66 of Surfer's Paradise

“Realistic about what?”

“This,” she whispered, holding onto his shoulders. “Whatever this is. Because it sure as hell can’t be what you think it is.”

Isaac hummed, dragging his lips lower, licking the sensitive spot beneath her jaw.

“And what do I think it is?”

Rosie let out a frustrated sound, hating how easily her body still responded to him, how she could already feel herself melting, arching, needing more.

“You tell me,” she challenged, voice sharper than she intended. “Do you even know?”

He grinned against her skin, his fingers gliding lower, teasing the soft, wet heat between her legs.

Fuck.

The closer he got, the more she wanted him. Right in there.

“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice all rough and knowing. “I want you.”

Her breath hitched. And then—he slid his fingers down her slit. She gasped, her head tipping back, hips twitching into his touch.

Isaac groaned, his lips brushing her ear.

“Yeah, you like that?” he said, stroking slow, watching her body react as he pumped two fingers into her pussy. “You like me fucking you like a slut?”

“Isaac.” she forced out, her voice shaking. “Please.”

Isaac smirked, dragging his fingers higher, teasing her clit. “I want you coming on me again.”

Rosie bit her lip, strangling a moan.

Fuck.

This wasn’t fair.

Because her body wanted him so bad it hurt, but her mind was screaming at her to stop this before it became something she couldn’t handle.

“This can’t be—”

She stuttered as his fingers hit a sensitive spot, flicking at just the right pace. She felt her cheeks go hot as she buried her face into his neck, moaning.

“Can’t just what?” he rasped, his fingers still moving, still stroking, still pulling tiny sounds from her throat.

She shook her head, pulling back, hating how much she wanted to lean into it.

“Forget it,” she breathed against his shoulder. “I can’t.” She tried to pull back.

His jaw ticked. “No. Say it.” His hand gripped her thigh, holding her in place, keeping her open, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

And his fingers? His fingers were so close to wrecking her again.

“Isaac,” she whispered, pleading, desperate, trying to pull away.

He wouldn’t let her.

“Say it,” he repeated, softer this time.

Rosie exhaled hard, chest rising and falling.

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