by Ember Flint
I stride to our beach towel and gently lower her on it.
I stand up again to get rid of my trunks and for a moment I just look at her, beautiful, naked and aroused on the white sand, her slightly tanned skin and golden curls glittering under the sunlight as if covered by hundreds of diamonds, her legs spread open for me, her pussy perfect and ready, her petals swollen, her wetness crying for me, her little pink pearl begging to be sucked.
I drop to my knees and lower my face between her thighs to do just that, making her arch and moan under me, her hands sneaking in my wet hair.
Her taste, a mix of sweetness, sex and sea almost has my eyes roll in the back of my head.
“Don’t tease me, Cash,” she whimpers frantically. “I want you inside of me.”
I oblige her, thrusting my tongue in her still impossibly tight slit and immediately feeling her walls clamp on it as my thumbs stroke over her sleek, hot outer lips.
Fuck, no matter how much I give my cock to her and how hard, her pussy continues to squeeze me like a too closely and oh-so-perfectly fitted pink, velvety glove.
Aria mewls, her body bowing off the towel.
“Cash, please, just get inside me,” she purrs.
“First come for me like this, love. I want your sweet orgasm to flood my tongue.”
I don’t know what did it exactly if my insistent licks or my words, but Aria immediately smashes in a million pieces, digging her nails in my back and moaning my name over and over again as her hot honey dribbles in my mouth and wets the stubble on my chin.
Her pleasure almost drives me to my own, I have to grasp my balls and yank them hard to keep the cum from shooting out.
I climb on top of her, urgently lifting her legs until her luscious thighs are resting on either side of me on my forearms.
As I cover her delicious breasts with kisses and licks, she reaches down for my cock, encircling it at the base with her palm and stretching her fingers down to tickle and stroke my sack, until my eyes cross.
I move her hand away and thrust all the way in to the hilt in one go, burying myself inside her willing, loving pussy, my aching balls grinding against her ass; a thick spurt of cum leaving my cock on impact.
I have to stop to gain my composure or this will be over entirely too soon, but my lovely, passionate wife wants it and wants it now so she starts to buck under me, forcing me to stroke back and forth even as I still try to catch my breath and hold my cum.
“Fuck, Aria!” I hiss, lifting her more and grabbing her ass with both hands. “You are so going to get it, baby!”
She moans, biting her full lower lip, reddened by our kisses.
“Can’t wait,” she breathes out; her pussy clenching around my throbbing cock.
I shift her to a better angle and then I start to rut into her, forcing every single inch of my hungry cock inside of her, her screams almost deafening the lapping sounds of the sea behind us.
“Oh, God, Cash! I’m going to—” she cries as she comes undone again, her hot little cunt milking my cock as I pump in and out of her snug, molten heat, feeling my own orgasm already tingling up my spine and blasting in my heavy balls.
“Fuck, love, you feel so fucking perfect,” I growl roughly, my breath catching in my throat as I keep on fucking her, driving us both beyond the confines of pleasure and then I let go, my seed jetting out and coating her convulsing pussy as Aria crests on her third orgasm.
“Holy moly!” she whispers breathlessly in wonder, making me laugh.
I don’t think I even knew how to laugh like this before I met her.
I turn us to the side, my fingers stroking protectively over her still almost flat belly as my lips descend on hers once again.
She pushes back a little and makes me look at her, her hands spread on either side of my head.
“You make me so, so happy, Cash and I love you so very much.”
I smile down at her and start to deliver a fast series of kisses all over her face, nose, forehead, eyes and lips, making her giggle.
“I love you to Aria, more than I can say.”
THE END
Want to see what happens after Cash & Aria’s first-anniversary honeymoon? Find out in the free extended epilogue. Get it here!
Devastatingly Desirable
By EMBER FLINT
Lara Mason has big dreams and a great passion for everything that inspires confidence and sex appeal, but she is shy and closed off, she has never been in love and has forgotten what it is like to be touched by a real man. When a sexy, British, giant gentleman crashes her boring evening plans, she can’t do much but hold on tight as a tidal wave of lust sweeps her under.
Aston Henley has money and power written all over his big body, he keeps everyone he meets at arm’s length and his imposing stature scares everybody off. His black-and-white life lacks passion and desire, he is always traveling for work and settling down is the furthest thing from his mind, but everything changes in an instant when he gazes for the first time into a pair of dark eyes that pierce him to the marrow.
There’s nothing he can’t do but dive head first into a whirlwind of all-encompassing, raunchy love.
This is more than a one-night-stand: there is an unstoppable, devastating pull between them and there’s nothing they can do to resist it. They don’t understand the power of the electrical current linking them and making them want to touch, taste, own and never let go of the other, but they can’t deny it’s there.
Dear Reader:
This is a standalone, smutty-adorable novella with no cheating and a guaranteed HEA that takes the concept of Love at first sight and just runs wild with it, so brace yourself and don’t say I didn’t warn you *wink-wink*
Aston is Big, British and an all-around Alpha Billionaire it doesn’t get any better than that and he is all yours, if you can bear to share him with Lara and watch him go all caveman on her.
We are talking about over-the-top, ridiculously steamy and fast insta-love that never misses a chance to be hot, dirty and so sugary-sweet you’ll need to see your dentist when you finish reading this.
Copyright
Copyright © 2018 Ember Flint
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. To request permission, contact the author.
Note from the Author: this is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters are represented as 18 or over. Also, in real life, remember: always safety first.
Cover design by: Pink Diamonds Waterfall
Edited by: New Wave Romance
To all of you insta-love aficionados out there, cynics can say what they want about it, but we know it can really happen.
Excerpt of Devastatingly Desirable
Chapter 1
ASTON
“Come on, man! You can’t leave me alone in my hour of need!”
I drag my eyes away from the screen of my laptop and I stop typing. I look up at my best friend and sure enough I meet his clear blue eyes trying to wear —without much success— the puppy dog expression that seems to work on everyone but me.
He knows it, I know it; yet here he is, trying to pull it off.
I sigh. “For Heaven’s sake, Charles, it’s only a bloody stupid lingerie shop. You make it sound like it’s a blasted war zone or something!”
“Well, for me it is! Say you
will come with me! It will be too embarrassing to even speak in there, if I’m alone. Please, Ast.”
I roll my eyes at him. It has to be a joke. “And how it is that the thought of two grown, straight men going in a lingerie store to shop for knickers together is less awkward in your eyes?”
Charles stands up and starts to pace in front of me. “We will not be shopping together and you won’t even need to advise me or anything if you don’t want to…”
I shake my head, my lips twitching slightly. “Then why on Earth do you want me to go with you if you don’t even need me to speak, Chuck?”
My friend gives me one of his patented cheeky smiles. “Well, for moral support of course.”
I laugh. “Of course. For moral support. I see,” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
Maybe I should just go. He has been trying to convince me for over an hour now to go with him and buy a present for his snotty girlfriend and I’m too tired and too jet-lagged to keep arguing about it.
I’ve been in New York for less than two hours after a red-eye straight from Heathrow, I shouldn’t be dealing with this kind of inanity.
I should be getting some sleep and then start planning for our meetings on Monday and instead it looks like I’m about to go lingerie shopping for a bitchy girlfriend that is not even my own and on a late Friday afternoon no less.
The lack of sleep must be really starting to warp my judgment if I’m actually considering this; but I knew already I would cave eventually if he insisted: he has been my friend for twenty of my thirty-two years: there’s nothing I won’t do for him and I know he feels the same towards me.
We are more like brothers than friends, it has always been like this.
Charles shrugs back into his leather jacket. “Come on, I’m sure it won’t be so bad after all!”
I close my notebook and stand up reaching for my black woolen overcoat. “Really? Isn’t your own expectation of it being just about as dreadful as tea with your great-aunt Margaret, the whole point of my coming with you for moral support?”
My friend slaps me on the back with a half grin. “Do you always have to be so… coherent about things?”
I smile a bit. “I’m afraid so.”
He just laughs. “Let’s go…”
We make our way outside of my penthouse and go straight for my private elevator.
I take my mobile out of my pocket and call for my driver. “I don’t feel like taking on the traffic myself as tired as I am…”
Charles suddenly looks concerned. “How thoughtless of me! I’m sorry, Aston, I’m being a total ass. It’s just that Lulu is driving me fucking crazy! She makes me forget myself.”
I feel my eyebrows rising without my giving them the go-ahead. “Chuck, if she is so…” I cast about for a word, trying to come up with something accurate yet not offensive to describe Louise. Lunatic Cow comes to mind, but I hardly think my friend will approve of that particular definition.
I clear my throat. “She’s so… demanding and, forgive me for pointing this out, she seems a little—”
“Crass? Manipulative? Annoying? Frigid? A pain in the ass? Thank you, I’m well aware of that.”
Well, apparently he knows already how to best define her without my help.
I take a long look at him. “To be honest, old chap, I could have not said it any better, or… worse, to be more to the point, but then why the hell are you dragging me lingerie shopping for her, instead of breaking-up with her?”
Charles frowns a bit and looks down.
I knew he was unhappy in the barely three-month-old relationship, but I hadn’t thought it was as bad as that.
“Well, you know me. I always try to give people a chance. Sometimes even two…”
I smirk. “And how many have you given to crass-manipulative-annoying-frigid-pain-in-the-arse-Lulu to discover such a list of oh-so wonderful qualities about her, Charlie?”
“I’d rather not give you a number, Aston…”
The doors of the elevator open with a ding and we step in the well-lit, elegant marble hall of my building, the concierge straightens up and stands alert before me. “Good afternoon, Mr. Henley. Mr. Spade— your driver is outside.”
I nod curtly with a tight-lipped smile and thank him, trying to put the man at ease. I have known him for the past five years, since I bought my flat to have a place to crash when managing in person the local headquarters of Henley and Spades, our venture capital firm, and still I have not been able to make him chill out —as Charles would say— in my presence, but I’m used to it: people rarely are at ease in the presence of money and power and I have both. The fact that I’m six feet seven tall is usually not a help either.
As we both slide in the back seat of the sleek, black Lexus, I ask again.
“I don’t mean to be an arsehole, Charles, but why are you not breaking-up with her instead of buying her expensive gifts that, considering the fact that frigid is part of your description of her, you are not going to enjoy?”
Charles gives a scornful laugh. “Man, when is that you started making jokes?”
I smile. “It’s the jet lag, my friend, I will go back to my usual grim self in no time, but Chuck, really: why?”
He shrugs his shoulders and tilt his head a little. “I’ve made my mind: I am ending things with her, but tomorrow it’s her birthday…”
I nod. “I see”
“I refuse to be the bastard who leaves his girlfriend on the eve of her birthday, no matter the fact that she is a bitch.”
“I totally get it, but why lingerie?”
My friend chuckles. “Well, she not only gave me a price range for her gift, but she insisted on the what and the where: it has to be a bra and panty lace-number and it has to come from this very expensive designer lingerie’s place…”
I shake my head. “How thoughtful of her… and what’s the name of the fortunate knickers shop that is going to bankrupt you?”
Charles taps on the darkened glass divisor with a smile and Lucas, my driver, pulls it down. “Where are you headed this fine evening, Mr. Henley?”
I look at my best friend, one eyebrow raised in question and let him speak, since I still have no idea of where we are going.
He smiles. “Intimate Delights.”
Chapter 2
LARA
I sigh, looking at the pile of discarded bras and thighs hanging on the back of a chair in one of the changing rooms. Some people have no decency at all.
I don’t expect customers to lose their precious time actually folding each item, but would it really kill them to take the stuff they don’t feel like purchasing and at least bring it back to the front counter so I can perform the task myself within working hours instead of having to do it all at once afterwards?
Well, apparently their time is money, while mine is shit, since they think I can easily stay after closing time on a Friday night picking up after them.
Not that I have any programs for this evening, but still…
I have at least another hour of work before I can call it a day and it’s already half past eight.
I have to examine the accounts, do the inventory, go through the new shipment of lingerie that arrived yesterday and should have been on display since this morning —and yet is still in the storeroom— then I have to set the alarm and close the shop.
It’s a lot to do and I probably won’t be home before ten.
Today has been a nightmare.
I don’t know exactly what happened, but at opening time I was the only one present in the upscale lingerie shop I’ve been working for the last two years as a manager.
I’ve been running up and down since seven in the morning like a maniac, catering to the whims of one string of bossy, obnoxious patrons after another, non-stop.
The owner of the boutique is out of town for at least another week, my assistant manager and one of the clerks are on leave, yet I was supposed to be covered for today, si
nce the others two girls that work for Intimate Delights were on duty.
The problem is, they didn’t show up at all and as an explanation I only got one puny text during the afternoon saying they were sorry, but they both were too sick to come in.
I don’t think they would lie to me, they are good, steady workers usually, so probably they have food poisoning or something, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched since they are roommates, but this knowledge doesn’t make this day any less shitty for me.
Once in the storage room, I start to go through the new garments. Exotic, silky textures and vibrant colors surround me and even though it has been an awful day I find myself smiling: this is way I love my job.
There is nothing as pretty and empowering as lingerie for me.
My hands caress the lacy material of a beautiful lavender set. It is a strapless balconette, lace molded on memory-foam cups adorned by swirls of silk, accompanied by a pair of sheer floral lace pattern cheeky with scalloped edges. Super sexy, yet comfortable.
I could never afford this kind of lingerie, but if there’s one good thing about being the manager of this shop, is the owner’s policy that guarantees me an allowance that doesn’t cut into my salary and yet gives me the chance to pick one or two —depending on price range— handmade pieces for myself.
If there is a 38DD available, this baby is coming home with mama.
I rummage a bit and I find my size.
I grab the shop tablet and immediately sign the set under my name.
I pick it up and thumb it longingly, I bet I would feel great wearing this: it would be just the thing to give a boost to my ego and salvage the rest of this tiresome day.