BEASTLY LOVE BOX SET: Romance Collection
Page 16
Under the water, her body ached and throbbed. She sucked in a breath as Owen waded into the water, past his knees, past his waist. He swam after that, heading out to her.
She knew already that he wasn’t a good swimmer, so she forced herself to head towards him, towards a spot where the undertow and current weren’t strong, where they could still touch bottom if they needed to.
Her head floated above the water, but she felt like she was a million miles above, in the sky, staring down at herself. Excitement hummed through her veins and electricity buzzed through her blood as Owen neared, his long strokes, slightly sloppy and not at all smooth, brought him closer to her.
She paused, treading water once again, a little deeper than she knew she should be. She didn’t know whether to feel fear or anticipation. Her head throbbed, her chest felt tight, as though she was out of oxygen when she knew she wasn’t. Her pulse beat hard, pounding violently at the side of her neck.
I want him. I want him out here, invading my world. I want him close to me, his skin meeting mine, his scent on me, our limbs twined together. Her face heated at the image. It wasn’t the first time she’d thought it. She’d dreamed of him and it hadn’t always been the most chaste imaginings. Sometimes she woke, achy and sweating.
Owen was there, a few feet away. He stopped just short of the deeper water and when he reached down, feeling for the bottom, she knew it would be there before his feet hit. He braced himself against the bottom and stood, breathing heavily, dragging in large gulps of oxygen into his lungs. The water lapped at his shoulders, sometimes hitting his jaw, leaving little crystal-like droplets that glowed and glistened.
His blue eyes sparkled in a way that was otherworldly. The moonlight turned them iridescent and when he looked at Maren, water droplets starring his thick dark eyelashes, it was like he was seeing right through her, seeing into the deepest parts of herself.
“Are you afraid?” Maren asked, seeing the spark of uncertainty in his eyes.
He nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Don’t come closer then. You’re safe there.”
His gaze wavered, fell to her mouth and her lips heated up, buzzing as though he’d touched her, or god, kissed her. “I have a feeling I’m always safe with you.”
She didn’t know what he meant, but excitement flooded her body, anticipation of what was to come. He was so close he could have reached out to touch her. She’d never been more aware of her own skin, of her body, of her own elemental need. She’d never felt more like a woman that she did under Owen’s gaze, a delicate caress that never actually touched her.
She wasn’t even aware that she moved, but she did, because suddenly her feet were dragging against the sandy bottom and Owen’s hand was on her arm, his warmth cutting right through her. He pulled her close and she let him, floating effortlessly, weightlessly through the water that swirled around them both.
He buried his hand in her sodden hair at the same time she raised her face. He lowered his and then his lips were on hers, warm, crushing, bruising. He was demanding as he plundered her mouth. She tasted the tang of salt from the water, the sweet masculinity of him. Her body came alive, a fire like she’d never known sweeping over her. This time she felt like she was the one drowning.
Owen’s arms came around her and she fitted herself to his body, her breasts slamming into the wall of his chest, her aching nipples rasping against the smattering of wiry dark hairs. She wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing their bodies even closer, soaking in his heat, letting the flames of desire lick up her water chilled skin.
Her hands fisted at his shoulders, her nails biting into the flawless dark skin, the striated muscle below. She felt the hardness of him, straining through the thin cotton of his underwear and even though the water still covered her entire body, she felt the hot rush of wetness pool between her thighs as her body throbbed with wild need.
He sucked at her mouth, sipped at her lips, tasted her with his tongue. It was magical, it was everything she’d ever imagined it would be, everything she’d spent the past five years thinking about. She whimpered as his tongue stroked hers and he swallowed the sound.
A noise in the distance, the slamming of a car door or maybe even a window or someone’s screen door flapping in the gentle wind, broke them apart.
Owen ripped his mouth from hers at the same time she pulled away. They both gasped for breath, their shoulders heaving.
“We should get out,” she whispered. “What if someone sees us?”
His eyes flicked to her face and the look there, the raw need as wild and deep as her own, told her that he didn’t care if the entire world saw them.
She did, however. Her business might not be booming, but it was all she had. That and her reputation. People knew her. People knew who he was. Her best friend’s ex-husband. She didn’t need all of Monterey in her business.
“Will you go first? Go up to the house and wait for me. I’ll come shortly.”
He paused like he almost didn’t believe she’d actually come. He finally nodded. She watched him turn around and swim up to the beach. He got out of the water, dripping and glorious, even more beautiful than when he’d first got in.
She imagined him upstairs in the room he was staying in, imagined the bed, the sheets she’d made up herself just the morning before. Imagined them beneath her skin, his body on top of hers, her lips tasting the mixture of salty water and his own unique masculine aura.
She shivered violently. Waiting was the hardest thing she’d ever done. When Owen was finally gone, and she knew she was alone, she swam back to shore, picked up her cotton dress, shrugged it on over damp skin and left the safety of the waters for a world that was suddenly brand new and uncertain and achingly tender.
She was afraid, not of giving herself to him, but that if she did, he would know. That he would just know the secret she hadn’t admitted to anyone. That since that day five years ago, that even if it was wrong, she’d been hopelessly in love with him.
CHAPTER 9
Owen
Even after a cold shower to wash off the salt water from his swim, he still burned with frustration. He couldn’t stop seeing Maren, the moonlight silhouetting her body, the glow of alabaster skin, the fiery red long hair, the sure, swift strokes of her slicing through the inky waters. He imagined her emerging from the water, droplets sluicing over pert nipples, delicate curves, a flat stomach.
Electric awareness buzzed through his veins. He felt a little like madness was creeping in on the edges and he was powerless to do anything to stop it. He imagined the taste of her in his mouth, that kiss, her body next to his… he wanted her more than anything. He’d never felt that way about anyone in his life. Not this level of need, not with the deep, desperate want he might not even survive. It shocked and scared him. He’d told himself after he’d been burned he wouldn’t do this again. Ever.
Just when he thought she wasn’t coming, that she’d changed her mind, he heard the soft padding of bare feet in the hall. A second later the door pushed open gently and golden light spilled in. It mingled with the silver beams of moonlight that seeped through the gauzy white curtains swaying in the gentle breeze.
She looked like a goddess, covered in a black silk robe, her red hair soaking wet, but illuminated with a gold halo from the hallway. She was so sensual, so beautiful, he wanted to drop to his knees in pure thankfulness that she was there with him.
His body jacked to life, the wild tide of desire ebbing and throbbing. It was in his head, his stomach, his lungs, his blood. He needed her. He needed her so badly it hurt.
He’d been perched on the edge of the bed, body aching so badly he didn’t dare move, could hardly take a breath. He rose slowly as she paused, just a foot inside the room. The door slowly swung shut behind her
She didn’t move as he stepped closer. After his shower, he’d thrown on a pair of boxers. Her eyes raked over his chest, burning right into his flesh, marking him before she’d ever even touched him.
She gasped at his touch, her body went rigid. She gazed up at him, her delicate grey eyes filled with life, with awareness. Her lashes were clumped together, little stars from her swim or maybe the shower he sensed she’d had after. She tipped her head up and her pink lips parted. He stepped in, the hard planes of his chest melding against her softness, her breasts pressing in alluringly into the hard, sinewy muscle. He could feel her pert nipples, her teasing warmth.
God, he longed to fist his hands in her hair and crushed his mouth to hers. He wanted to pick her up, throw her down on the bed, tear off that robe and explore every inch of that silken skin. He wanted to love her, mark her, scent her skin so that when he tasted her she tasted like him, when he breathed in, it was his smell on her body.
She reached up and cupped his cheek gently. Her touch was shockingly warm, fire spreading through his veins. Her lips parted again, her tongue darting out to wet them. He couldn’t resist her any longer.
“Are you going to kiss me,” she breathed, her eyes wide and unblinking.
“If I kiss you,” he said huskily, “there isn’t any going back.”
She gave her head the slightest shake. “I don’t want to go back. I want this. You and me.”
He didn’t ask her if she was sure. The fire in her eyes, burning naked and unabated, told him that she was sure. He couldn’t control himself any longer. He wrapped a hand through the wet tendrils of her hair, twining his fingers in the thick strands. Her face tilted up and he slammed his lips down on hers.
He kissed her like he’d kissed her on the beach, with the desperation of a drowning man. She moaned and he drank back the husky sound, captured it between his lips, took it into his mouth and swallowed it. When her tongue slipped into his mouth, searching for his, it was his turn to groan. The sound filled up the room, bounced off the walls the same way their frantic breaths did.
He pulled away and trailed kisses down her neck, over her dainty jawline, down the slim, white column of her throat. Her pulse jumped under his lips, hammered against his tongue when he tasted her. His head swam with the exotic flavor of her skin. She was delicate, all woman, the tang of salty waters still clinging to her. His senses exploded, his nerve endings fired on all cylinders. He was as on edge as he’d ever been in his life.
“Come,” he said raggedly. He took her hand and started to steer her towards the bed.
She hesitated, but then she followed, her tiny bare feet slipping over cool floorboards without a sound.
“Will you show me?” She asked, staring up at him. Her eyes sparkled, glistened with desire and uncertainty.
“Have you… you’ve never done this before?” He wanted to let out a groan, but he managed to trap it in his throat.
“No, I mean, I’ve done this before, but it was a while ago. It wasn’t with men who cared either. It was just fumbling around. I don’t want it to be like that. I want this to be…”
“It would never be like that,” he vowed. “Never. I’ll show you what true pleasure can be. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
She stared back at him with such trust in her eyes, it nearly broke him. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you would never hurt me. I just… I don’t just want you to show me pleasure. I want you to show me how to give it too.”
He nearly rocketed out of his skin. His cock jumped to life, pounding so painfully he had to grit his teeth together. Did she have any idea what she was asking when he was clinging to self-control by a fragile thread?
“Yah,” he ground out. “But first, you. I can’t wait… Maren, do you have any idea how incredible you are?”
Her blank stare told him that she didn’t. She had absolutely no idea what a natural born siren she was. She was built like a seductive goddess, a woman meant to inflame desire, a woman that a man never forgot, even if he just looked at her once.
“No. I see that’s a no. I’m going to show you. By the end of the night, I promise you’ll understand.” Slowly, so very slowly, he undid the fastenings of her robe, the black silk belt and let it fall away, exposing her to him in all her glorious nakedness.
Show her… she was so incredible there was a definite chance he wasn’t going to survive the night.
CHAPTER 10
Maren
Show me. It was an exciting prospect. She couldn’t imagine what it would feel like with a man like Owen, a man who not only knew what he was doing but also cared about what the experience was like for her.
The way he was looking at her, his hungry gaze consuming her, devouring her, sent shivers racing up her spine. He didn’t move for the longest time. She had the urge to cover herself since she’d never truly been naked in front of a man before.
Right as her arms were moving across her chest, Owen stepped forward. His hands found hers and he clutched them, keeping them pinned down. He bent his head and his lips crashed down on hers. He kissed her breathless, his lips parting hers, his tongue sweeping in and caressing hers in slow, hungry strokes. One of his hands left hers and tangled in her hair once again. It was still damp, but he obviously didn’t care. His fingers twined through the thick strands just the same, tilting her head back so he could deepen the kiss.
When his lips finally left hers, she was panting, gasping for air. His hands circled her waist and before she knew what was happening, he lifted her easily. He carried her the short distance to the bed and when he set her down it was with the utmost care. His eyes were on her again, wild, hungry. She wished he would stop looking and just touch her.
Owen climbed onto the bed. It dipped under his weight. She expected him to kiss her again. She was shocked when he ran his finger along her thighs, parting them. His hand never quit. His fingers traced a pattern up and down her thigh, igniting a shower of sparks in her bloodstream. Modesty told her to slam her legs closed, but she kept them open.
When he finally ran his hand up to her sex and touched her there, it sent off a blistering white-hot heat that pounded down to her toes and traveled up to her breasts. Her nipples hardened even though she wasn’t cold. She watched him, utterly mesmerized as he trailed his finger over her folds. It grew slick with her wetness, which made her blush.
“Owen…”
“Shhh,” he said thickly. “You’re incredible. You’re so beautiful.” He looked up at her, eyes burning even in the darkness. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes, of course.” Her voice was tiny despite her assurance.
“Then trust me that you’re the most incredible woman on earth. And that you are going to forget all about being embarrassed and just about the pleasure.”
Oh god. Her body stiffened, and she waited, watching him as he trailed his finger over her throbbing sex. She ached in response, the ache so deep she wondered if it could ever truly be sated. She decided to just stop. Stop worrying. Stop thinking. She let her head fall back against the pillows and her back rest flat against the cool, crisp sheets.
He kept stroking, kept circling her in sure, even movements. His finger was like heaven. The anticipation of release was already coming. Though she had limited experience with men, she was far too old not to know how to bring herself pleasure. She knew, knew what that build up meant and marveled at the fact that Owen knew exactly where to touch her, exactly how, exactly the amount of pressure to apply and where to caress, when to sweep and dance away.
She was already straining, panting, ready to beg. And at that moment his thumb danced over her clit. She gasped, electric shocks pulsing through her body. The ache intensified, pounded, thundered until she could think of nothing else, nothing but sating it.
“Where do you want me?” Owen leaned in.
She couldn’t answer. She could barely form a coherent thought. “Do you want my fingers inside of you? Or do you want my mouth?”
Maren nearly shot out of her skin. She nearly climaxed just from hearing him talk to her like that. His voice was deep and sexy, the words completely taboo sounding.
“You’re so wet. I could slip right in…”
“Owen!” She hissed. “Please! Just do something! Anything!”
“No. I want you to tell me. What do you want?”
“I don’t know. That’s the thing, I don’t know.” She closed her eyes, ready to beg for mercy if that’s what it took. “Just do whatever you think is best.”
“My mouth then.”
She thought she was ready, but nothing could have prepared her for the feel of warm kisses on her thigh. Her body clenched tight, tight enough to snap. And then his mouth, so warm, so blissful, found her core. He kissed her gently, swirled his tongue over and down.
“You taste like the sweetest honey,” he groaned.
She jerked hard in response, his words and his touch taking her so perilously close to the brink. She felt absolutely starved, starved for his touch, starved for his body.
When his mouth came back to her, she almost jacked off the bed, the wicked pressure of his lips, the swirls of his tongue more than she could bear. The need built, spiraling and spooling inside of her belly. His mouth was so hot, so sweet against her overheated body, the pressure driving her upward, licking gently, suckling with even more gentleness. She squirmed beneath him, opening her legs, bucking her hips upwards, begging silently, hoping, hoping that he would give her what she so desperately needed. Release.
Right when she thought she couldn’t be any more affected, that the anticipation couldn’t grow any greater, and then, that was when he chose to slip a finger inside.