He breathed hard, thrusting against her body. She couldn’t help it—she writhed against him again. He suddenly flipped them both, pushing her hard into the sand. She moaned, aching for all that pressure—aching to feel him naked against her, pressing right into her and filling that gaping need.
A need that had never been as strong. A craving that had to be sated. Her desire had to be slaked. Desperate, she was driven to move, unable to stop herself arching. She’d do anything to draw him closer.
He growled again. Then jerked his hips away from her sinuous dance.
‘I don’t have anything, darling. I can’t...’ He groaned, straining against her for a heavenly moment. ‘We can’t,’ he muttered in tortured tones. ‘I don’t have anything.’
It took several moments to register what he meant.
Protection...prophylactic...contraception... Condom.
She stared up at him, dazed, disappointment so bitter. ‘I do,’ she snapped as she suddenly remembered.
He stilled. His eyes burned into her with a look of such savage intensity she felt unable to breathe. Yet she felt bolder than she’d ever been.
‘I have something,’ she choked.
‘Give it to me,’ he ordered harshly, peeling away enough to let her reach for her shorts.
Her wallet was wet, and she struggled to part the old leather pocket and find the foil square that had been shoved there so long ago. They’d been issued with them back in basic training. Stella had stuffed hers into the smallest space and forgotten about it till now.
The flush built in her cheeks as she grasped hold of the small packet and suddenly balked. ‘That is...if you want...?’
‘If I want?’ The short, tense laugh sounded torn from his throat. ‘You have no idea how much I want.’
She gazed at him. ‘Then show me.’
He stood. Slowly he undid his trousers, spreading them to slide them down his hewn legs. Her jaw dropped as he revealed himself to her. He was beautiful. Muscled, yet lean, his skin glistening and golden. And his erection...
She swallowed as he tore open the small packet and rolled the condom down his impressive length. The pirate Prince was so much more than she could ever have imagined.
That this was happening at all was crazy. But to stop it, to say anything, would be crazier still.
The hot sun beat down on her. The silk of his spread tuxedo jacket was soft beneath her. But all she could really sense was him.
He lowered himself over her, encompassing her world. ‘You’re ready?’
She nodded wordlessly.
He gazed into her eyes for a moment and then bent to kiss her mouth, then the taut tip of each breast. Then he licked her core once more.
She moaned, and tugged him to come back over her. It wasn’t enough now.
‘Spread wider,’ he ordered harshly. ‘You are small and I am...not.’
He pressed his wide palm against her inner thigh, pushing her legs further apart. He slicked his fingers through her wet heat. She hovered in a whirling mess of anticipation and need.
Then he rose right above her, settling into position, and thrust.
Stella sucked in a shocked breath. An incredible feeling of fullness engulfed her. He was so big, so heavy. She frowned, fighting the drowning sensation, crinkling her eyes to stop the smart of tears.
‘Relax,’ he murmured, pushing forward again. But then he suddenly stilled. ‘Stella...?’
For a moment she couldn’t answer. She was still breathing through the overwhelming feelings, riding out the pleasure-pain that threatened to consume her consciousness.
Oh, man. He was so very much. But at the same time she wanted more.
The whispered need spread like a vine within her, trailing hot spears of desire and sensation through her limbs. Into her soul.
‘Stella.’
It wasn’t a husky, swiftly murmured endearment—the kind temporary appreciative lovers spent like small change. This was a warning.
She felt his furious tension building.
Instinct told her he was about to pull away, but she was a fighter, and she was not having this end this way. Driven by an instinct she didn’t really understand, she curled her legs around his hips, using every well-toned muscle she had within her to hold him to her and lock him in tight.
His rough groan echoed in her soul.
‘Don’t stop,’ she ordered, in low tones every bit as furious as his. ‘I want it. More. I want better.’
She deserved better. For once she was having what she wanted, and she wanted only the good bits. She wanted to crest that wave again, the way she had only minutes ago. He could help her.
‘Show me how to ride.’
And then she remembered his instruction—to kiss it better.
The confusion and disbelief in his eyes didn’t fade, and she couldn’t bear to see a glimpse of hurt there too. Even though she’d given him her body, she’d held back something vital. That bothered him, and she was sorry. She’d kiss it better.
She curled her fingers into his thick hair and pushed on the back of his head, straining upwards so that her mouth met his.
It was the worst kiss ever. She banged his teeth and bit her own lip in the process. But she didn’t stop. She refused to. And slowly her clumsy attempt grew into something more sensual, more skilful. Sexier.
His lips softened, his mouth opened. He let her in.
She made the most of it—tasting him, teasing with her tongue the way he’d done to her. Heat slicked her body again and she grew restless. The pain subsided. Now she only ached for him to move.
He tore his lips from hers and looked into her eyes for a long, silent moment.
‘Please,’ she whispered.
Finally his hesitation went up in smoke and determination exploded within him. He kissed her again. Holding the rest of himself still, he plundered her mouth. Then he moved fractionally lower, bracing and bending to kiss her puckered nipple. He scraped the sensitive nub with his teeth. An arrow of pleasure shot to her sex, making her slick. And at last he moved. A slow, gentle, rolling motion of his hips. Easily, his big body slipped slightly further inside hers.
She moaned. She wanted more.
To really ride.
But still he moved slowly. He teased a hand between them, rubbing around her most sensitive spot with torturously gentle
