“No one else,” I grit out, half in disbelief I’m saying it. The other part of me doesn’t care—just wants the friction to keep going. “But you’d better fuck me now, or there might be.”
He smirks, that infuriatingly cocky grin spreading across his face. “My fingers not enough for you?”
I could tell him they’re more than enough—could admit he’s got me unraveling under his touch—but why inflate his already massive ego? Still, the way his fingers work me over, like I’m an instrument he’s mastered, makes my eyes roll back in pure bliss. I could stay like this forever, pinned beneath him, toes curling in the sand.
But I won’t give him that satisfaction.
“No, they’re not,” I manage to say, shaking my head slightly, though he’s already smirking, not buying a word of it. “That’s why I need more.”
His lips part, licking them slowly as he leans in. “Oh, do you now?” he purrs, voice dripping with arrogance.
My heart skips a beat. He looks at me like I’m his prize—like the whole world could fall apart, and as long as he has me beneath him, nothing else matters. And just as I think about wiping that smug look off his face, he’s already there, lining himself up between my folds.
His mouth crashes into mine again, fierce and desperate, and the next second, he’s thrusting inside me with one deep stroke. It’s as if my body was waiting for this, for him. I take him in effortlessly, my slick heat pulling him in like he belongs there.
He nestles into the crook of my neck, pressing soft kisses along my jaw as he starts to move—deep, intense, driving me insane. “So tight,” he murmurs, his voice rough as his tongue traces my skin. “And so damn sweet.” I moan, the words lingering in my mind. I know exactly what I taste like—salt and rum, the sea itself. Maybe that’s why he’s drawn to me, why he can’t get enough.
“I could devour you whole, Gypsy Flint,” he growls, making me shudder.
But I don’t want to shudder. I don’t want tenderness. I don’t need him to tease me or kiss me or nuzzle in my neck. I want him to fuck me like he hates me—like every thrust is a battle between us. I don’t want that war to stop.
So, I match his rhythm, pushing him harder, faster. My hips have a mind of their own, every nerve in my body lit up, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
He’s not giving me what I want, though. He’s still teasing, still holding back. So I take matters into my own hands.
“My turn,” I gasp, shoving against his chest and flipping him over in one swift move.
Zayan Cagney could crush a man’s throat with nothing but his bare hands. He’s a legend—fought sharks in open water and came out the victor. I know he wouldn’t let me flip him unless he wanted to.
He wants to.
“Fine, Gypsy,” he grunts, voice rough. “You devour me, too. Since you seem to like it so much.”
I waste no time. Lifting myself up, I slam back down onto him, taking him in fully, over and over again.
I can feel the raw strength in him, the power barely contained beneath the surface. His muscles flex with every thrust, and the sounds coming from his throat—deep, guttural groans—are enough to drive me wild.
I bring my hands to my breasts, pinching my nipples, making sure he’s watching as I lose myself to the rhythm.
How’s that, Cagney? Will you remember this?
His eyes, dark and hungry, tell me yes. He’ll remember. Every second.
That’s when his control snaps. His fingers dig into my hips, pulling me down harder, helping me ride him with an urgency that matches my own. I let him, watching the tension in his muscles, listening to the animalistic groans that tear from his throat.
Time means nothing now. It’s just him, me, the night, and the waves crashing against the shore. Nothing else exists.
We keep at it until my legs tremble, until his gaze is so dark with lust it makes my heart race. It’s fast, but it lasts. Long enough to make us both forget who we are, what we are to each other.
Finally, when I feel him twitch inside me, his mouth falls open, and I can’t hold back any longer. The sight of him, so lost in me, makes me explode.
“Yes, just like that,” he growls, voice tight with need. “Come on me, Gypsy.”
His fingers find my clit, and the pleasure hits me like a wave, crashing over me until I’m crying out, completely undone. But Zayan isn’t done with me yet.
Seeing me completely lost, he flips us over again. This time, I don’t even try to protest. Sand up my ass be damned. Time be damned.Everythingbe damned. I need this to continue.
He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me in tight and he locks my trembles with his body weight, pinning me to the sand and forcing me to take it.
