Touching Paradise (10 page)

Read Touching Paradise Online

Authors: Cleo Peitsche

So be it. All she knew for sure was that this was the most excited she’d ever been. This was an adventure. Something she’d never forget.
 

The soap rinsed away, she shut off the shower and wrapped a towel around her torso. She had rinsed but not shampooed her hair—no way, not when there wasn’t any conditioner in sight. After toweling off, she squeezed the excess water out of her bikini and carried it into the fresh air to dry.

Koenraad was coming up the dock, her beach bag over one shoulder. Wow. A man who held her hand and who didn’t mind carrying a woman’s bag around. She cocked her head and took a moment to appreciate the way his muscles rippled as he walked.

She hadn’t realized that the boat was now floating a good six feet from the dock. Not until Koenraad took a running jump at it. He easily landed on the deck, set down the bag, then pulled back the ropes.

“Suppose I’d drifted off to sea?”

“Even if you’d climbed up top, started the motor, and driven off, I would have caught you. No one else could have, though.” There wasn’t an ounce of boastfulness in his voice, which had the unexpected effect of chilling her.
 

He went up to the top level, and she dug the yellow dress out of the bag and pulled it over her head. Her breasts bounced under the fabric as she climbed the inside stairs to join Koenraad. The boat pulled smoothly away, but she grabbed onto a handle, just in case.

“What are your parents like?” she asked.

He glanced at her. “Good swimmers,” he said without a trace of irony. Was she supposed to read between the lines? “Yours?”

Behind them, the island was quickly getting smaller. She wondered if she’d be able to find it on a map. “My father died when I was little. My mom is… a lot like me. Responsible. Predictable.”

Koenraad laughed. “You are not predictable.” He moved over a little. “Sit.”

She did, but she wanted to leave him plenty of room, so she perched on the end, at an angle, and she had to balance her weight between her butt and her feet. She became aware that without the bikini top acting as a buffer, the outlines of her nipples were visible through the yellow dress.

Hunching her shoulders forward, she lost her balance a little and grabbed at Koenraad’s leg. She found herself surprised again by how warm he was, and how solid.

“Are there a lot of others like you?”

Koenraad shrugged. “Not anymore.” The yacht picked up speed. Monroe braced an arm against the cabin’s back wall and abandoned the questions. The sun was sitting low in the sky, and the waves on the ocean seemed choppier than earlier.
 

“Can I take you to dinner?” Monroe found herself asking.
 

Koenraad looked over at her, then brought the boat to a stop. He killed the engine.
 

A light frown furrowed his brow, and he cocked his head, almost as if he was listening to some barely perceivable sound.
 

She didn’t know where the impulse came from, but she found herself moving, sliding a newly tanned leg across Koenraad’s lap and straddling him, one knee on the seat, her other foot on the floor. The steering wheel was in the way, so she stayed off to the side.

He was still a moment, then turned his attention to her. He dragged one hand slowly up the back of her straightened leg, and when his fingers reached her mid-thigh, they squeezed, kneading her soft flesh until his hand was against the swell of her buttock and holding her tight.

Her pussy seemed to throb. All day long, she’d wanted him inside her, and now there was nothing stopping it from happening.

Koenraad leaned over, the side of his face pressing into her upper abdomen, and fiddled with the knobs and levers. His movements were deft and fast, and the way he attended to whatever mysterious ritual he was doing while slowly massaging her ass turned her on even more.
 

Finally he sat back and looked up at her. He repeated the earlier journey with his free hand, and when his hands were full, he slid his hips over and pulled her onto him.

“No underwear?” he murmured. “Maybe I should reconsider New York.”

She couldn’t hide her smile. When was the last time a man had made her feel like this?
How about never?
came the answer. No, she didn’t know him, but she felt like she did, and heaven knew she
wanted
to.
 

He traced his fingers lightly over her buttocks, pressed into the small of her back and urged her forward. Her nipples had hardened, making twin peaks under the dress. There was no way he hadn’t noticed.

She ground her hips down, expecting to rub her bare sex on his covered erection, but instead felt a stretch of warm, hardened skin. She rocked her hips, surprised, and realized that several inches of swollen cock were now poking out of his Speedos.

With a sharp intake of breath, she pulled back. “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t have anything… I mean, I didn’t realize that your, um, that you…” What was wrong with her? She was acting like this was her first make-out session.

“It’s ok,” he said into her neck, his voice whispering across her sensitive skin. Her neck was probably her most erogenous zone, and as his lips grazed over her throat, she felt herself getting wetter.
 

He stood, his hands under her buttocks. She wrapped her legs around him, trying her best to avoid rubbing her clit on his exposed, pulsing cock. But damn, she wanted to. She tightened her arms around his neck and buried her face in the shadow where her elbow and his broad chest met.
 

She could feel the thick scar down the right side of his body, and she wondered if it hurt him.

“I’m going to take you downstairs and make love to you,” he said gently. “If that’s ok.” It wasn’t exactly a question, but she nodded anyway, holding her breath as he descended the steps.

Lights now illuminated the steps and the deck’s walkways. Beyond, the sea was quickly darkening, and a cool wind made goosebumps of her skin… at least, the areas where she wasn’t pressed up against Koenraad.

He easily carried her through the little hallway and opened one of the doors and stepped into a bedroom. The bed itself took up a third of the space, but other than one bedside table, there really wasn’t any furniture. A series of mirrored doors and drawers lined one wall. It made sense; furniture that moved could become dangerous in rough seas, she supposed.

With one hand behind her head, he gently laid her on the bed.
 

He went to a window and cranked it open.
 

She couldn’t stop staring at him. He definitely didn’t have two male organs. Twice the size, maybe… “I had no idea sharks were so well hung,” she said.

“Completely different anatomy.” He shook his head and made a face that was half sexy, half laughing. “I don’t think we want to talk about that.” He crossed his arms and scratched his thumb over his chin. “I don’t suppose you’re on birth control?”

She nodded. “Why?”

“I’m clean, and I can’t give you anything. Except for—”

“Oh,” she said. “We’re good.”

He came down on one elbow above her. Somehow, her yellow dress had gotten hiked up around her hips when he’d set her down, and he cupped his hand over her exposed sex with a light, teasing touch, grazing her slit. She was already slick.

He kissed her again with a single-minded focus that was both flattering and scary. She rocked her hips lightly side to side, wanting him to press into her, but he seemed intent on taking his time.

So she set out to change his mind via her fingers snug around his cock. His kiss grew harder as she squeezed him, trying to work the rest of his length free of the restrictive fabric.

 
She tilted onto her side, but he pushed her back with a hand on her knee, then he knelt over her, his palms pressing gently but resolutely on her inner thighs. She looked down and realized that her chest was rising and falling too quickly, that she was breathless.

He carefully peeled her out of her dress, and she fell back onto the bed, surrendering, her arms flung wide, her legs bent but flattening again as he spread her thighs. She was self-conscious of the way her breasts had bounced, but she didn’t try to cover herself, hoping not to bring attention to her nervousness. Though it wasn’t like he hadn’t already seen her at her worst.

And anyway, it was getting dark and the only illumination filtered in from the lights he’d turned on outside. He wouldn’t be able to see anything in detail.

He came down over her again and seemed to be carefully keeping his cock away from her pussy. So very close. She wished he would at least rest the pulsing weight of it on her aching clit.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” he said. He carefully smoothed her hair away from her face, and she closed her eyes, nervous under his scrutiny. “Hey,” he said, his voice a tease. “I’m not so bad to look at, am I? Or maybe you don’t want to remember this?”

Remember.
Because she’d be going home the next day. She forced her eyes open, strained to meet his gaze in the waning light. “You’re beautiful, too,” she blurted out. “I wish I didn’t have to leave tomorrow. I mean—”
 

The rest of her words were cut off with another of his heart-pounding kisses. He was more forceful in bed than she was used to… and he hadn’t done anything yet. It was the way he touched her. He knew his way around a woman, that his touches brought pleasure. He knew what he wanted.

For once, she wasn’t going to have to take the lead. With Koenraad, it wouldn’t have been a chore, but she was relieved because she knew she’d be an awkward, clumsy mess.
 

He kissed and licked his way down her neck, over the flat spot between her breasts. She arched her back, and he licked the crest of her ribs and then lower. She dropped her hand to his head as he descended, and worked her fingers into his thick hair.

The bed seemed to vibrate as he growled, his face moving between her legs. She hadn’t noticed he had stubble, but his jaw was scratching her thighs raw. For all that, he was careful where it counted. He licked between her folds and she arched higher, moaning, her toes pressing against the soft sheets.

It wasn’t just excitement that ripped her breath out of her chest. Koenraad was now flicking his tongue around her clit, and even though her mouth wasn’t begging for more, her body certainly was, thrusting rhythmically at him, knowing only he would bring her pleasure.
 

But it was relief, too, and gratitude. The night before, she’d realized she needed to change her life, but she’d never expected that someone else could change it for her. That wasn’t how it was supposed to work. She was supposed to save herself. But here Koenraad was, protecting her, making her laugh, and now, his arms locked around her thighs, he licked and kissed and tongue-fucked her pussy with a hunger that she hadn’t thought possible.

And the noises he was making, like she was satisfying a deep hunger in him. Like he was the grateful one.

“Oh—” It was all she could get out before bliss exploded throughout her body. The hours of Koenraad’s tormenting closeness had made her too excited, too sensitive. Her orgasm bordered on violent, and she felt like all her pieces might go flying out in a million different directions. But Koenraad was still there, his mouth pressing on her as shudder after shudder rolled through her body.
 

As she came back to herself, Koenraad slowly relaxed his grip on her. His face was still buried between her legs, and he didn’t move away until she was completely still. Only when he sat up and pushed her arm away did she realize that her fingers had been clenched in his hair the whole time.
 

“Sorry,” she said. Her voice was weak and sounded far away.
 

He caught her hands and pressed her wrists onto the mattress, pinning her in place. “If we’re going to apologize for being rough during sex, it’s going to be a very long night.”

With that, he reached between their bodies and dragged the head of his cock along her wet slit.

Chapter 10

Monroe in his bed was giving him sensory overload. He’d never tasted a woman half as delicious. He’d known, just from her smell, that they were compatible, but he hadn’t anticipated all the subtleties of her honeyed excitement.

It had taken every scrap of willpower he possessed to tear himself away from her. He would have been happy to hold her there for hours, just inhaling her intoxicating feminine musk until it was as familiar and easy to recall as the scent of rain on the ocean.
 

So far, she’d been surprisingly accepting of all the weirdness, but he doubted she’d be willing to put up with his face buried between her thighs. Pity she lived so far away. If he had more time, he could win her over, make her his, teach her to put up with, or even enjoy, his eccentric sexual obsessions and needs. There were things about his anatomy that he was hiding from her, but he wished he didn’t have to. How to explain to a human about the spurs on his cock? Or how dangerous his blood and semen were if ingested by a non-shifter? As afraid of the water as she was, she would probably jump off the boat and swim for shore.
 

For now, she was here, and the taste he’d gotten would have to be enough. His cock throbbed and his balls ached, and Monroe was pliant and accepting underneath him. Still, he wanted to turn her over, rake his teeth over her back until she tilted her hips toward him, then clamp her shoulder in his teeth to hold her still while he thrust himself home. He wanted to let go, to anchor her to him.

He groaned. It was too much to expect a non-shifter to endure. He knew that, but now his instinct was fighting hard to take control.
 

He turned her, trying to be gentle. Heaven help him. Her back curved and her lovely round ass tilted up so provocatively. The mass of her hair spilled along the bed, and her skin was sinfully soft.

There was only so much a male could take. He pushed up on her ass, opening her legs and exposing the slick, swollen folds, her hard little clit like a pearl. Not caring what she’d think, he leaned forward and inhaled her, licked her. She was dripping after her forceful orgasm, and already she shivered, practically vibrating. He slowly sat back and saw her pussy tighten hungrily.
 

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