Sinful Paradise (Kimani Hotties)

by Christopher, Ann

  He stiffened again, his eyes squeezing closed and his head tilting back, and for one heart-stopping second she feared she’d said the exact wrong thing. But then his lids snapped open again and he smiled a glorious smile—a smile so full of joyous relief—that it was more blindingly beautiful than anything she’d seen on this island paradise.

  And then, just as quickly, his smile gave way to a look of intense determination. She suddenly couldn’t breathe because the air was stuck tight in her throat. That hand of his slid away from her heart, skimming across the tip of her breast—gently scraping her nipple with his nails—on its way back to her hip. She gasped and clung to his neck, electric sensation sparking to every corner of her body. Then his hands eased around her back and drifted lower, to her ass, pressing her up against the hard length of his erection. He thrust his hips, creating the perfect friction against her sweet spot, and she went breathless with desire.

  “Cooper.”

  “I’ve waited a long time for this,” he murmured against her mouth, teasing by not kissing her. His fingers, meanwhile, went to work on the filmy skirt of her sundress, inching it up with painstaking care until she felt cool air against the backs of her thighs. “So if you’re not sure about that, now’s your chance to say so.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Sure about what?” he asked conversationally, his hands now sliding into her panties. “That you love me?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, lost in the thrill of his bare skin gliding over her.

  “If you love me,” he said, easing her panties down and letting them drop so she could step out of them, “why haven’t you said it?”

  It was awfully hard to talk when she was dizzy with lust. Her hips had begun to circle of their own accord, thrusting against him, and his long fingers were rubbing her from behind, sliding back and forth in the slick cleft between her thighs.

  “Because I’m scared,” she admitted softly.

  His fingers stilled. The delay nearly undid her, but he wanted her full attention and seemed determined not to continue until he got it. Stooping so he could look her in the face, he smiled just enough to make those sexy lines fan out from the corners of his eyes.

  “And what’s there for you to be scared of when it comes to you and me, Gloria?”

  She hesitated, but there was only one answer, and it came straight from her heart.

  “Nothing.”

  That seemed to please him, because her reward was swift. “Not one damn thing,” he agreed, licking his way deep into her mouth and absorbing her helpless mewls of pleasure. At the same time, his talented fingers resumed their stroking from behind and, slick with her juices, glided over her core.

  She shattered with a sharp, surprised cry, tensing and arching with ecstasy until only his strong arm across the small of her back kept her from collapsing to the floor. He rubbed her again and again, wringing every glittering ounce of pleasure from her until it seemed likely she would die from it. When her head fell back and her melting bones refused to support her for another second, he swept her into his arms, took a couple of steps and swung her around, ripping the linens out of the way before lowering her to the bed.

  Drained yet energized, she let her heavy arms rest over her head as he loomed over her, propping one knee on the edge of the bed.

  Panting slightly, she tried to catch her breath but couldn’t with him staring at her with such raw intensity. His gaze touched her calves and her thighs, which were barely covered by her skirt...the front of her dress, where the decorative buttons strained against her heaving chest...her mouth and eyes.

  And then, when he’d inventoried every part of her, he reached for her skirt. Taking all the time in the world, he pinched it between his fingers, easing it up until it whispered past her engorged sex, teasing her. He gave her a possessive look, his expression dark with purpose, and then leaned down, coming closer.

  His tongue dipped into her belly button.

  Her body spasmed. “Cooper, please.”

  Begging, it turned out, had no effect on him. The moment stretched between them, lasting until her overheated body began to writhe of its own accord, needing him inside her more than it needed oxygen or water. When he was close enough to smell her desire—when he had to be saturated with it—his gaze flicked up the length of her body again, to her eyes.

  “This belongs to me.” Bowing his head and brushing his lips across her, finding the most perfectly exquisite spot of her oversensitized flesh, he gave her a lingering kiss that made her cry out again. “You know that, right?”

  The smug triumph in his expression made her want to deny it, but on the other hand, it wasn’t as if she was any good at hiding her feelings for him.

  “All of me belongs to you,” she said softly, reaching for him. “Come here so I can show you.”

  The arrogance slipped off his face, replaced by urgent need. Reaching for the hem of his black T-shirt, he swept it over his head and let it drop to the floor. His jade dragon pendant was a flash of green between his collarbones. She stared at his ripped shoulders, torso and arms, dusted with a light covering of hair, smoothly tanned and glowing with health. She wondered what had made her deny herself the thrilling experience of making love with this man at the first possible opportunity.

  She laughed.

  Frowning, he went to work on his belt and zipper. “What?”

  “I’m the world’s biggest fool for not grabbing on to you the first chance I got, Eagle Scout.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said, dimpling at her. “That’s why I plan to marry you before you make any other crazy mistakes.”

  She stared at him, not sure whether he was joking or not, and afraid to ask. The M-word, coming out of his mouth, evoked such a strong visceral yearning inside her it couldn’t be ignored. What would it be like to be married to this man? To wake up to his open smile every morning and fall asleep curled up against his strong body every night? He was such a neat freak there’d be no picking his socks up off the floor; she knew that much, and they’d argue because they both had big personalities.

  It would be an adventure, as everything with Cooper was.

  Marriage wasn’t something she’d thought about with him, largely because they’d spent so much time working out the basics of their relationship. But now that he’d said it, the possibility of it filled her from top to bottom, as though she’d swallowed a thousand glittering fireflies.

  She wanted it. Oh, man, she wanted it.

  “Don’t play,” she said.

  Nothing outwardly changed in his expression, but some inner light seemed to glow brighter, making him look happier than she’d ever seen. “I’d never joke about something like that.”

  Unsettled, she decided to focus on what they’d been about to do. “Why don’t you stop talking and come here?”

  “If you insist.”

  Watching her the whole time, he eased his board shorts and gray boxer briefs down, freeing an erection that was long and thick.

  Watching him, she shifted restlessly, unable to keep her body still.

  He climbed onto all fours and crawled up the length of her body, kneeling to straddle her hips. His shadowed face was harsh now, almost reverent.

  “I’ve dreamed about you like this,” he said, his voice a low rasp. “Almost every night since I met you. And then I’d wake up, and you’d be gone and I wouldn’t know when I’d see you again.” He paused, swallowing hard. “It was like dying a little bit. Every time.”

  God, this man touched her heart.

  “You’re stuck with me now,” she said, an unexpected tear trailing down her temple. “We should probably make up for lost time.”

  “Damn straight.”

  Bending down, he caught her mouth with his, and she took him deep, opening for him so they could discover all the ways their li
ps and tongues fit together.

  And then, too soon, he broke it off and leaned back again, out of range.

  “I need to be inside you, Gloria. Now.”

  “Good. Hurry.”

  “I don’t think I can go easy.”

  “Good,” she said with a slow grin as seductive as she could make it. “Hurry.”

  “Why are you still wearing clothes?”

  She started to lever up on her elbows so she could wiggle her way out of the dress, but he wasn’t in a patient mood. Grabbing the two halves of the dress, he ripped them apart with a single hard yank, showering buttons and thread over the sheets. Half a second later, her bra got the same treatment, leaving her laid out before him.

  He took his time with another slow perusal, his admiring gaze lingering on her small breasts and beaded dark nipples, which he cupped and stroked with his thumbs while she cooed with the raw pleasure of finally having his hands back on her body, where they belonged.

  “I swear,” he said on a shaky laugh, “you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Ever will see.”

  Another wave of emotion hit her, making her tear up. Laughing and crying now, she swiped at her temple. “You couldn’t make me any happier if you tried. You know that, right?”

  “I still plan to try.”

  “Then make love to me. How about that?”

  He eased down on top of her, giving her time to adjust to his weight and open her legs for him. Dipping his head, he took her mouth again, long and deep, and she tasted the salt of tears that weren’t hers. And then, when she couldn’t wait another second, he took his length in hand and stroked her wet core with the plump head of his penis.

  She angled her hips, desperation getting the best of her, but he paused and raised his head, a question in his eyes.

  “Go,” she said.

  With a single sharp thrust, he buried himself inside her. She cried out, her body adjusting to the delicious invasion, and his hands stroked up and down her sides and wedged their way under her butt, anchoring her as they found their rhythm together.

  Panting, she stared up into his blazing eyes. Hung on to his biceps as they bulged with the weight of his body. Wrapped her legs around his waist and urged him deeper. Scratched his back with her nails. Nipped his throat and ears when he came close enough. Circled her hips and gave him everything she had.

  His intent gaze never left her face as he made love to her like a man possessed, setting a hard pace that had them both dripping with sweat within minutes.

  He murmured to her the whole time, words about how tight she was and how beautiful...how good she felt...how she was his now and he would never let her go.

  How much he loved her.

  She tried to answer back, but her heart was too full and she was too fascinated by the sight of their wet bodies twined together, her brown skin against his tan, their mingled sweat and cries. And she tried to hold off her orgasm, wanting this moment—this first time with Cooper—to last forever, but he relentlessly circled his hips and hit the exact right spot on her sensitized sex, and, really, she never had a chance.

  Calling his name, she flew apart, arching into the pleasure as her body stiffened and went limp.

  He took that as his cue, thrusting once...twice...three more times, and then he came with a hoarse shout, his head dropping into the hollow between her neck and shoulder as he collapsed on top of her.

  Still inside her.

  She hugged him closer, running her hands over his broad back and up into the ropy wet curls at his nape. Together they caught their breath, and then, just as she was on the edge of sleep, he shifted his weight, rearranging them both until he spooned her from behind.

  She settled in, resting her butt against his crotch, and he rested one of his big hands on her breasts and the other on her sex, as if he wanted to make sure there was no question about who owned her body now.

  His lips ran down the side of her neck, tickling her, and she grinned.

  He held her tighter. “Marry me.”

  She stilled and held her breath, wanting to make sure she’d heard right. “I told you not to play.”

  His lips found their way to her ear this time. “Marry me. Put me out of my misery.”

  Drowning in joy, she let the laughter come. “Yes.”

  He grinned, the apple of his cheek scratching her with his five-o’clock shadow. “Where should we live?”

  She thought about that.

  “How’s the big fixer-upper in Greenwich coming?”

  “It’s great.” He nipped her ear. “Needs a woman’s touch, though.”

  “I’m a woman.”

  “You certainly are,” he agreed, stroking her breasts. “The neighborhood’s got sidewalks. There’s the beach. There’s a big yard with a fence in case we want a dog.”

  “We want a dog!”

  “We do?”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “I’m not into Chihuahuas and little purse dogs, though, Doc.”

  “Oh, God, no.” She remembered a dog show she’d seen on TV a few months ago. “I want a Greater Swiss Mountain Dog.”

  “Hang on. Those things are a hundred and fifty pounds, aren’t they?”

  “Exactly! And they’re beautiful and good-tempered.”

  “Good-tempered,” he said thoughtfully, now twining his fingers with hers. “That’s important. For when we have kids.”

  The image of sandy-haired, golden-skinned kids running around the yard, playing tag with a dog, made her smile. “Very important.”

  He nuzzled her neck. Cleared his throat.

  “Could we have made a baby, Glo?”

  That was when it hit her—they hadn’t used condoms, nor had the idea even crossed her mind. And she wasn’t on the Pill, because there hadn’t been a man in her life in months.

  “Yes,” she admitted softly.

  He grinned, his hand stroking between her legs becoming more purposeful. “Let’s do it again,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “Increase our odds.”

  “We can’t,” she protested weakly. “We have to get ready for the rehearsal dinner soon. And I don’t have a dress, do I?”

  “We have a little time,” he said, turning her in his arms and settling into the cradle between her legs again. “And as soon as we get a free minute, I’m going to marry you.”

  Chapter 15

  There she was, Cooper thought the following morning, which was Talia and Tony’s wedding day.

  And his wedding day. His and Gloria’s.

  They were, in fact, already married. A trip to city hall at the crack o’ dawn, a flurry of paperwork and a civil ceremony, with only a clerk and the photographer as witnesses, had seen to that. And now they would have a traditional Polynesian ceremony on a private beach miles away from the resort, because their marriage was just for them, and they certainly didn’t want to steal any of Talia and Tony’s thunder.

  So they’d keep it quiet for now and thank their lucky stars that their attendance at the other wedding that day wasn’t required until early that evening, giving them a little time to themselves.

  Hanging on to the sides of the dugout canoe as his three bare-chested and red-sarong-wearing attendants, whose names he didn’t know, rowed him ashore, he smiled at Gloria, who was already waiting for him on the beach. She looked amazing, of course, sun kissed, glowing and happy in her simple dress of white linen. They’d found their wedding clothes together, and he was also in white linen, although he was a little more flamboyant than she was, with a traditional red sash tied around his waist.

  More male attendants provided their soundtrack, a thrilling and relentless staccato of drums. Island women in red-and-white flowered dresses danced for them. Another group of women in grass skirts were on standby, waiting to instruct them
on the hula, and he was pretty sure a fire dancer would make an appearance later. Beside Gloria, the Tahitian priest waited to officiate, decorative spear in hand and an elaborate feathered headdress standing tall on his head, and the interpreter stood at his elbow, ready to explain the words to him and Gloria once the ceremony began.

  They were observing every tradition they could because their wedding day, like his bride, was precious, and just because they’d arranged it quickly didn’t mean they’d skimp on the details. A stunning feast was already laid out on palm fronds, waiting for them: roasted pig and chicken, raw tuna and mahimahi, lobster and shrimp, sticky rice, yams, a dozen different fruits, of which he only recognized watermelon, mango, pineapple, coconut and bananas—the selections went on forever.

  He and Gloria would exchange fragrant red leis and leafy crowns made with the prettiest yellow flowers he’d ever seen. The priest would bless their simple wooden rings in a wooden bowl, bind their wrists with a leaf and then wrap them in a flowered Tahitian quilt to symbolize their unity.

  All of it would be amazing, but to him there would never be anything as beautiful as the smile on Gloria’s face as he climbed out of the canoe and walked barefoot down the powdery softness of the beach to stand by her side.

  “Hi,” he said, taking her hand as the drums reached their crescendo and the priest moved to stand in front of them.

  “Hi.”

  His smile melted away. It was too much of a challenge to smile and breathe when she was looking at him like that. As though she could possibly love him a millionth as much as he loved her.

  “You’re beautiful,” he told her.

  “So are you.”

  “Let’s get married.”

  * * *

  “Cooper,” Gloria said.

  It was two hours later, after their wedding ceremony and feast. They’d changed back into their beach clothes—black linen for him and a fluttery blue sundress for her—and snuck back to the resort with no one the wiser. She could hardly believe their good fortune. Now it was past noon, which meant it was time to attend to Talia and Tony, who were, after all, the official wedding couple, and help them get ready for their ceremony tonight. Talia was already wondering where Gloria was and had texted her a couple of times. So she needed to say goodbye for now to her new husband and head over to Talia’s bungalow for an afternoon of champagne-fueled pre-wedding pampering. There was no time for anything else.