Page 124 of Gin and Lava

“There’s a fence.”

“A fence with—without a lock,” she pants, her body limber beneath me, responsive and rippling with goosebumps at my finger’s thrumming. “Anyone could—” she sucks on my lip for a second, moaning as I palm her full breast. “They—they could just walk in here and find us.”

“Does that make you hot, Princess?”

A wicked gasp breaks from her lips—sharp, like I’ve lashed her pussy with my tongue and she’s achingly turned on. My, my, it seems my little Viking likes the danger. Her instincts are betraying any shyness or modesty she might want to assert, so I drag my lips down her throat, rakishness curling my mouth.

“Oh, I think you like being that dirty girl who walked into my office and pulled her thong to the side,” I praise, nibbling lower to her collar bone. “My Viking Princess isn’t afraid to ask for what she wants.”

“I’m pretty sure I begged that day.”

“You did exactly what would get you what you needed. There was no way I was saying no to you.”

My mouth starts to descend, racing down the front of her body, making her legs quiver with anticipation.

“That was still private,” she rasps out, digging her hands into my hair as I savor the divot between her breasts.

“Was it?” I play. “With my staff hearing you come as I pounded into you?”

“They didn’t watch.”

“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, pulling the second triangle of her bikini aside and covering her nipple with my mouth.

“No,” she moans, her gorgeous body shaking under my lips. She tastes incredible: sunshine and skin and salty citrus. I drag my hands down her soft stomach as I lave her taught buds, her fingers digging into my hair as she eggs me on.

My thumbs hook into the sides of her bikini bottoms, and I feel her hips twitch. She’s moaning, nibbling her lip, her hips silently begging me to bare her sensitive skin. I don’t know why, but Naomi loses all her inhibitions when I touch her, and all I want to do is worship at her feet.

So I do just that.

I drop to my knees and lave my tongue across her stomach, looking up past her exposed breasts to see her peering down at me with wild acceptance. Her mouth hangs open. Her tits are red and swollen. Her pupils black. Her breath shallow.

“Tell me what you want, Princess,” I growl. “Tell me right now and I’ll give you everything you want.”

38

NAOMI

Mason on his knees beneath me has me craving wild, dangerous things.

I want his mouth on every inch of me that’s aching.

Ineedhis mouth.

What the hell does Mason do to me? He makes me so hot and crazy that I want to beg and submit. He makes me want insane things like to fuck him in public—not that this is public, per se, but I can hear the volleyball game down on the beach. I can hear them laughing and thwacking the ball over the net.

I don’t care that I can hear them.

There’s a fog of heat in my head, and Mason’s mouth is panting against my stomach as his hands grip my bikini bottoms like they’re flimsy strings of paper he’ll happily tear off.

“Yes” I rasp, digging my fingers into his hair. “Remove them.” Mason’s grip tightens on the strings of my bikini bottoms. “Use your hands or your mouth. I need to come on your face!”

Mason makes me unafraid to ask for what I want.

He drags my bikini bottoms down my legs. It’s wildly sensual, how his fingers trace my ass and thighs. The fabric falls to my ankles, and Mason inhales deeply against the flesh of my stomach.

“Do you have any idea how delicious you smell?” he asks roughly, his hands massaging their way back up my thighs, his mouth toying with the soft skin between my navel and where I’m aching. “You taste like sun and peaches and—”

He lifts one of my legs and slings it over his shoulder, opening me.

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