his neck.
“Hold tight,” he said, shifting his grip so his fingers were tighter on her butt. “Proof is on its way.”
Then he leaned down, unerringly finding her pebbled nipple through the fabric of her dress and sucking hard. She shuddered, moaning over and over in time with his thrusts.
The tension wound again, tight and low as she gave herself over to the power he had over her body. Clearly he was a man who liked a challenge, and if he said two more orgasms, then dammit, she’d be reveling in two more mind-blowing orgasms.
He nipped, his teeth working her nipples through the wet silk. Alexia popped like a champagne cork, pleasure spewing from her in an explosion. Her nipple beaded, hard and aching beneath his lips. Her stomach constricted as heat curled lower, spinning tighter.
“That’s one,” he counted breathlessly.
And zero for him. As her body drifted back to earth, Alexia realized that he was calling all the shots. Not a bad thing, since those shots felt so damn good. But she wasn’t the passive type, and she had a few shots of her own. She wanted him to go over. Wanted to drive him so crazy, he couldn’t control himself. Wanted to feel him explode, to know that he felt as wild for her as she did for him.
But she couldn’t use her hands because letting go of his shoulders meant she’d probably land on her butt in the sand. If she leaned forward to use her mouth, he might lose his grip, or worse, the perfect position he’d found that had his dick sliding against her clitoris with every thrust.
All she had were her hips, and those were in his hands. Still...
Calling on her thrice-weekly pilates training, she constricted her core muscles, her glutes flexing so she could grip him tight, like a fist, as he slid inside her.
He gasped. Groaned. His next thrust was hard and deep. Then he sucked in a breath and yanked himself back under control.
Oh, so he thought he could resist, did he? She gave a wicked grin. And clenched him again, this time swirling her hips against his.
The move sent yet another orgasm spiraling through her, her clitoris quivering, her breath rasping in and out.
That’s all it took to send him over.
He thrust, hard, out of control. Intense, pounding pleasure poured through her as he gave a low moan, his body shaking as he poured out his climax.
Alexia’s head dropped against his shoulder, her thighs trembling too hard, muscles too liquefied to keep them wrapped around him any longer. So she let them drop, her toes sinking into the soft sand. She felt as if she’d run a marathon while having a deep-tissue full-body massage and eating herself into a chocolate coma, all at the same time.
Pretty damn incredible.
Blake shifted, just a little, making the sand beneath her feet cave in a few inches. The sounds of music, of the partyers’ voices, carried on the night air, dancing just above the surf.
Suddenly, awareness poked its sharp fingers through the fog of sexual delight. Made Alexia aware that she was practically naked, although her dress kept her modesty intact. That she’d just had three screaming orgasms with a virtual stranger, on a public beach, with a bevy of other strangers just yards away.
Holy cow, what had she been thinking?
Where had her good sense gone?
And why did she know, without a doubt, that given the chance, she’d do it all over again? What did that say about her? And, suddenly going all girlie, she cringed and wondered what Blake thought about her actions. Other than gratitude for one hell of a fine ride.
Cold, even though the temperature hadn’t changed, she stepped out of his embrace. Unable to look at him, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms and made a show of looking around for her underwear.
“Well, I guess you showed me,” she said, her words as shaky as her laugh. She would have pushed her hands through her hair, but between his fingers earlier and the sea air, she knew she was probably already rivaling Bozo in volume. So she settled for twining her fingers together.
Alexia jumped when his hands closed on her upper arms. She automatically looked into his face, meeting his gaze. Warmed by the calm affection in his blue eyes, she felt a little of the tension drain away. Why was she ashamed? Healthy sex, between two consenting people? She gave a mental eye roll at the sudden, silly and totally not-her inhibitions that’d taken hold.
And wished like crazy that the eye roll was enough to make them go away.
Blake let go of one of her arms, reaching up and rubbing his thumb over her lips. A gentle caress quickly followed by an equally gentle kiss. When he pulled back, she sighed.
“I’d say we showed each other,” he said quietly.
It wasn’t a promise or declaration. It probably wasn’t even meant to be a reassurance. But she felt as if it was both. A promise that he didn’t think less of her and the reassurance that he’d stepped just as far outside his normal as she had.
“I guess we did.” Her smile was about as big as her lips would stretch, but still not even close to how large and bright the bubble of joy inside her chest felt. “I suppose you should get back inside and meet that friend?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip, anxious to hear his response. He didn’t make her wait long.
“Nah. We can go inside and have another drink if you’d like, though.” He didn’t sound excited. But he didn’t let go of her, either, so she took his lack of enthusiasm to be for the drink, not the company.
Alexia took a deep breath. She’d told herself one night. And she’d already proven that she wasn’t a chaste good girl who required a ring—or hell, even dinner—for a sex romp. So there was nothing to stop her from grabbing on to her entire night.
“Did you want to go back to my place?” she asked. “I just have to call a cab.”
His lips shifted, a slow, sexy smile curving his mouth. The kind that lit up his eyes and made her want to hug him close because he was so damn cute.
“I’ve got my truck.” He let go of her and reached into his pocket, handing over her panties. “You might want these, though. I held on to them so they wouldn’t get all sandy.”
“Aren’t you the gentleman,” she teased, gratefully taking the tiny scrap of silk.
“You know it. And I’d like to think the only abrasions you’re going to have on your thighs are coming from my whiskers.”
Alexia’s breath caught. Her heart danced. And her body—which should be sexually satisfied enough to last for weeks—did a giddy little cheer.
“Then let’s see how soon we can make that happen,” she said, wriggling into her panties, then holding out her hand.
When he wrapped his fingers in hers, she began the mental chant one night, one night, one night.
One helluva night.
