He stared back with that passionate intensity, his body heavy and insistent and heavenly. ‘I couldn’t if I—’
‘Oh!’ She arched as he pushed inside her with a powerful thrust. ‘Oh!’
He was big and strong and filled her so completely that to her astonishment she came hard. It waseverything. She clutched and curled around him, shuddering in pleasure.
‘Phoebe…’ He groaned, bracing but still thrust deep, anchoring her until her ecstatic trembling eased. ‘You feel really good.’
‘You make me feel amazing,’ she gasped, somehow rolling from that orgasm straight onto the precipice of another.
She’d felt nothing like this.Ever. It was quicksilver and effervescence—rare and ephemeral and she just had to ride the wave before it disappeared. There was no control now. No more words. Only movement and sensation—hot and fierce and free. He rolled his hips and thrust into her—filling her—over and over and she hovered on that delightful—agonising—precipice for mere seconds.
She entwined her legs and arms around him, holding as tightly as she could. Instinctively matching his rhythm, she squeezed—clutching him inside—refusing to release. He muttered in her ear—hot guttural praise and gravelly filth that made her moan even louder. She gasped as he thrust—relentless and demanding—until a mere breath later tumbled back into that starburst and oblivion with a wild scream.
She had no idea how long it was before she fluttered back to full consciousness. The scents of summer and sex, of heat and peppery wild herbs, perfumed the air. It was mid-afternoon—the warmest part of the day—and she was blanketed by his big body and slicked in sweat. She’d never been as hot in her life. Never as satisfied.
He lifted away from her and rolled onto his side. ‘Thank God they gave you a three-pack.’ His groan was husky and rueful. ‘That was over far too quickly.’
Um… Did he think? Because she had zero complaints. She was absolutely humming. ‘I had no idea…’ she mumbled, too dazed to realise what she was giving away.
‘No?’ He looked into her eyes and his smile slowly broadened. He reached out and lightly ran his fingertips back and forth across her stomach.
‘Mmm…’ She would let him keep that smug look. He deserved it. She was so blissed out.
‘No idea what?’
She sighed. Whispered. ‘That it could be that good.’
He kissed her—slow and gentle—but she quivered again anyway. Only then he smiled. ‘I’m going to have a swim. Are you going to join me?’’
She nodded but couldn’t resist just watching for a moment first. It was insane how beautiful he was, how quickly she got hot around him. He stepped into the water, curved his arms and dived. Great, now she was even hotter. She scrambled to her feet. Not in her wildest dreams had she imagined she’d have sex and go skinny-dipping with a handsome stranger in an Italian woodland but there was no stopping her now.
She splashed in quickly and dove, gasping in outrage as she emerged from the cold water.
‘You have to move,’ he called with amusement.
She wriggled all her limbs and yes, the temperature eased. She giggled and swam to the other side, stretched out and floated on her back, watching the sunlight pierce through the trees. It was so lush. So perfect. Definitely heaven.
‘Phoebe. You’ll burn if you stay in the sun too long.’
She turned and saw him standing on the bank watching her. Droplets of water cascaded from his skin. It was like nature had bejewelled him but seriously, wasted effort. He needed nothing more to draw her attention. She swam closer. He watched—clearly and unashamedly aroused and definitely the most stunning thing she’d ever seen. The wry smile on his face deepened as she picked her way out of the pond while not breaking her fascinated study of him. Yes, she’d shed every inhibition ever.
‘You must be tired from carrying me everywhere,’ she murmured. ‘Maybe you should lie down.’
He stepped back to the flattened space where their clothes had been flung and complied with a knowing smile. She knew he was only indulging her bossiness when really, he was the one seducing her all over again. He stretched out and she straddled him—splaying her thighs over his—and played. She adored touching him and did so—everywhere. It was utterly intimate and decadent and looking into his eyes, she’d never felt as wanted in all her life.
He purred, whispered, his pleasure beyond evident. And she teased—taking her time with the condom, making him swear until she laughed and then he took over—lifting her with impossible strength. Their eyes meshed as their bodies melded again. She quaked and slammed her hands on his chest to steady herself. He filled her to the edge of ecstasy and gave her the boldness to explore him even more, to find his weak points, make him lose everything, the way she did.
She feasted on his beauty, on his strength and stamina. Riding him was the most sensual experience of her life. She felt invincible. Beautiful. Powerful. She’d not known sex could be so liberating or so fundamentally good for the soul. This was connection at a cellular level—all freedom and joy. He let her set the pace, met her with that intense ferocity, teased her back until she arched, shuddering in delight, not even knowing she was moaning…falling. His arms swept around her, pulling her to him, holding her safe and close as she shattered.
* * *
‘Phoebe…’His voice permeated her dream and his warm hands rubbed her upper arms. ‘You’re getting cold.’
Not when she was curved into his heat like this. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to wake. But she lifted her head, met the hunger in his eyes, knew hers reflected the same.
‘It would be a shame not to use the last one, don’t you think?’ he whispered.
‘If you think you’re up to it?’ she murmured.
