A gasp escaped her as he thrust his hips against her, and he broke away from kissing her for a split second to smile. “You like that?”
She couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, so she nodded. It was all the encouragement he needed. Dropping kisses down her neck, he began a slow, rhythmic grind of his hips against her core.
He was going to blow his load. Vaguely in the back of his head, Connor knew he needed to stop before he embarrassed himself, but this, having Olivia’s legs wrapped around his hips, pressing against her heat, hearing her rasping breaths, her gasps... he did not want to move.
“Can you come like this?” he whispered as he licked at a pulse in her neck, savoring the sweet taste of coconut suntan lotion on her skin.
“Oh God.”
He didn’t know whether that was a yes or a no, but she wasn’t pulling away. Instead, her hands had dropped to his backside and were clawing at him, pulling him closer.
“Yeah, you can, can’t you?” He thrust again, harder. “I just need to keep doing this, don’t I? Keep grinding against you.”
“People will see,” she mumbled, then moaned as he increased his pace.
“Nobody’s here, nobody’s watching. It’s just you and me, Livvy. You can let go.” Christ, his balls felt like they were about to explode, but he couldn’t stop, not yet. Not when he could sense she was moments from going over the edge. Only her rigid self-control, her sense of decorum, of what she considered right and proper was stopping her.
“I... oh God, I can’t believe this is happening.” Her fingers dug in tighter, so tight he was pretty sure he’d have marks on his buttocks.
The thought of his arse bearing red marks from where she’d clawed at him through his trousers nearly undid him. Fuck. This was torture. The most incredible, exquisite torture of his life.
“You feel so good, Livvy. Like your body was made to fit mine. You keep bucking against me, using me. I want to be used by you.”
She moaned again, louder, and then suddenly he felt her go taut. A second later the most beautiful sound of pleasure left her lips and she shuddered, then shuddered again, before her whole body sagged against him.
Carefully he drew up her chin, noticing the flush on her cheeks, the glazed look in her eyes before they slowly focused. “Beautiful,” he rasped. “You are fucking beautiful.” He needed to come so badly, it was a physical pain, yet he also felt complete. Like it didn’t matter because what he’d just witnessed had transcended his own satisfaction. Gently he dropped a kiss to her mouth before reluctantly stepping back. “Ready for that walk?”
She let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t know if my legs can support me.”
Her eyes dropped to below his waist, to where he was still visibly hard, but before she could say anything that might ruin the moment, he lifted her off the rocks and carefully set her on her feet. “You can cling to me for support.”
She looked down at him again. “Are we ignoring that huge... statement in your trousers?”
When had he last laughed while sporting a painful erection? Probably never. Before Ellie, he’d been young and too focused on relieving the ache. Post Ellie, sex in the main had been furtive, solo encounters with his hand while she was asleep or hurried one-night stands, always with one eye on the clock to make sure he wasn’t too late back for his parents. “Yes, we’re ignoring it.” He picked up the chef jacket and dragged it back on, satisfied it covered everything.
“You don’t want me to...” She trailed off, blowing out a frustrated breath.
“Jerk me off? Suck me off?” Hurt flashed across her face and he cursed. She was different than the flirty young women he met at bars who treated sex casually, who’d happily give him a blow job without a second thought. He placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her gently toward him. “Don’t think for one minute I wouldn’t give my aching right nut to have your hands on me in any way, shape, or form. But you shouldn’t feel obligated to return the favor.” He dropped a kiss on her lips, groaning at their softness. “Besides, knowing I made you come, seeing it happen? Nothing that came after would be as satisfying, so I’d rather leave it there.”
She searched his eyes for a moment, as if checking his sincerity, then nodded. “Okay.”
They began to make their way along the beach. He wasn’t one to wax lyrical about scenery, but the long stretch of sand, the lighthouse, the blue water of the harbor, the sheer serenity of the place—Nantucket was pretty fucking special.
“Why are you working so many shifts?” she asked after a while.
“It’s good money.” He was bursting to tell her about Ellie; his daughter was his life, and not talking about that huge part of it felt wrong. But for the next few weeks, he was living a different life, and in that one, he wanted to be what Olivia needed him to be. Even though she didn’t realize it yet. It was also whatheneeded. To be the hot young guy she could have a wild, carefree holiday fling with. Who made her forget about work, about being mature and sensible. “The hotel is down a barman, so when I’m not in the kitchen, it makes sense to earn some extra cash while I’m here.” He glanced at her. “I can always turn down the shift if I find a better way to spend my time.”
Her mouth twitched. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
Reluctantly he turned them around and set off back to the hotel, his break almost over.
“Are you working tomorrow?” She asked.
“Yep. At the wedding reception, they’ll be eating my starters.”
“And in the evening?”
“All I’ll be fit for tomorrow night is bed.” He halted, studying her. “Unless someone comes up with a better offer.” He tried to keep the hope out of his voice.
