And for one wild moment, I almost do.
I almost blurt out that I’m the youngest sibling of Dublin’s most powerful family, and the knowledge that someone with a death wish for all of us has escaped from a maximum security prison by murdering six guards is weighing on my chest like an elephant.
‘Distract me,’ I beg, tracing a finger over his abs, watching as they ripple and bunch beneath my touch. His face lights at my invitation, and he inches closer. ‘We’ll have to be quiet, though. Tate is right outside the cabana,’ I remind him.
He hisses out a raspy breath. ‘Once you make a statement like that, I don’t care if the fucking president is outside listening.’ His face dips and his lips brush over mine. He parts my mouth with his tongue, and I melt into his kiss. ‘But you’re wearing too many clothes,’ he murmurs, as his palm roams over my breasts.
‘Hardly,’ I glance down at the tiny white bikini I’m wearing.
He reaches around to finger the string at the back, tugging it slowly as a grin tugs his lips.
‘You’re so bad.’
‘I never claimed to be anything else.’ He tosses my bikini top to the sand. ‘That’s better.’ His eyes linger on my chest. My treacherous nipples peak, preening for his attention. His mouth is on one in seconds. The man is a fucking mind reader. He pushes me flat on my back, licking and teasing my breasts until I’m writhing beneath him, on the verge of begging him to take me there and then.
I’ve never had so much sex in my life.
I’m going to miss it when I go home.
Home.
I push the thought away for later.
‘Tell me what you want.’ His pupils darken. My pussy pulses in my bikini bottoms. I glance at the open curtain. Anyone could walk by.
‘I want you,’ I answer honestly. No matter how much sex we’ve had over the past few days, it’s still nowhere near enough.
Torrid flames light his cool blue eyes as he slips his fingers inside the waistband of my bikini bottoms. My thighs fallopen for him. His fingers slip over my seam. I’m soaked for him already.
‘So wet.’ His voice is thick with arousal, and there’s no missing the tent forming in his aqua blue swimming shorts.
I reach for him, and he swats my hand away. Every time we’re together, he gets me off at least once before we have sex. Looks like today is going to be no different.
His fingers slip inside my core, and he stares intensely as he works me. ‘I could watch you come all day, Irish,’ he rasps. ‘Your body is so fucking responsive. I’d almost swear it was made for mine.’ He slips his fingers out of my bikini and yanks the white Lycra down my thighs, over my calves and ankles, then tosses them onto the sand with my top. I’m completely naked for him, and that knowledge only serves to soak me further.
‘Turn over,’ he demands. Yes, my sexy American friend certainly likes to be in control, and this is probably the only area of my life where I don’t mind surrendering it. He wouldn’t like to meet me in my boardroom. I flip over onto my front, and he hauls me up onto my knees like I’m weightless. I squeal before I can stop myself.
‘Andyoutoldmeto be quiet.’ His palm slaps my ass playfully, and I bite my lip to stop myself crying out again.
His hands roam over my hips as he rocks onto his knees behind me, and lowers his face between my legs. He offers my slit one slow lick and, fuck me, I’ve never been eaten out from behind before. It feels so utterly depraved.
‘Stay quiet now, Irish, and I’ll make you come so hard they’ll hear you at home.’ His promise sets fire tearing through every nerve ending in my body.
‘Your filthy mouth might be the death of me,’ I whisper, bucking back onto his face as he fucks me with his tongue, deep and slow, every flick a depraved demonstration of hisexperience. Heat builds low in my stomach, spreading like wildfire throughout my entire body.
My legs shake so hard it’s a battle to hold myself upright. Seeming to sense my struggle, California grips my hips tightly and plunges his tongue deep inside of me and suddenly I’m spiralling into the most decadent oblivion known. A violent orgasm tears through me, erupting like a volcano. I can’t not cry out as he laps at me like a man dying of thirst.
When he’s wrung out every drop of pleasure, he rolls me onto my back, those big blue eyes sparkling. ‘At least you’ve given up trying to play it cool,’ he smirks.
I huff out a ragged breath. ‘I am cool, I’ll have you know.’
‘No, sweetheart.’ He shakes his head and reaches into the pocket of his swim shorts for a condom. ‘You are fucking fire personified.’ He rips open the silver foil and wraps himself, lies down and pulls me onto his lap. Our eyes lock as I slide down onto him. I don’t kiss him. I’m too busy studying every fine line of his face. We stare at each other, silently savouring every second as we rut against each other, like both of us are committing this to memory.
A second climax builds deep in my core. He’s so big, and he’s so talented at hitting that sweet spot deep inside. His pupils darken and dilate. My core contracts. He feels it. It’s written all over his face. I’ve never climaxed at the same time as a partner before. In fact, they rarely made me climax at all.
But this?
The way his fingers tighten their grip on my ass cheeks, the way his eyes silently command me to come for him—I can’t not.
