Page 84 of Arranged To Be Mine

“Beau.” I pulled back just enough to speak, my voice breathless and desperate. “Take me inside.”

His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. “You sure?”

“Please.”

That was all it took.

He carried me out of the water, my legs still wrapped around his waist, my arms around his neck. I buried my face against his shoulder, tasting salt on his skin, feeling his muscles flex with every step.

I heard voices somewhere in the distance. Other beachgoers doing their own thing. I couldn’t bring myself to care. Let them look. Let them take pictures. Let the whole world see.

Right now, there was only him.

“What about the stuff?” I asked when he walked by.

“Fuck it. Someone steals my chairs, I’ll buy new ones.”

I couldn’t find a good enough reason to argue.

He put me down at the base of the stairs, but neither of us paused. I grabbed his hand and we ran, wet feet slapping against the wood, laughter and heavy breathing mixing as we burst through the back door. Sand trailed behind us. My bikini top was askew, one strap slipping off my shoulder. I didn’t bother fixing it. We hit the stairs to the second floor at a near sprint, his palm hot on the small of my back, urging me faster. My thighs burned from the climb.

The bedroom door slammed shut behind us. Beau’s mouth crashed into mine before I could speak, teeth nipping, tongue pushing deep like he needed to taste every inch. I moaned into the kiss, fingers digging into his shoulders. My nails scraped over his wet skin. We were frantic. My bikini top was ripped away, his board shorts shoved down. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed. I wrapped my hand around it, stroking once, twice, feeling it twitch against my palm.

“Fuck, Darcy,” he growled, backing me toward the bed. “I’ve been hard since you kissed me in the water.”

I fell onto the mattress. He followed, crawling over me. His hands hooked under my thighs, yanking my hips to the edge. He dropped to his knees without a word, shoving my bikini bottoms aside and burying his face between my legs. The first lick was so unexpected I screamed. His tongue dragged over me, pushing hard against my clit. I cried out, back arching, fingers twisting in his damp hair.

He licked me like he was starving, sucking my clit between his lips, then thrusting his tongue inside me. One thick finger pushed in alongside it, curling hard against that spot that made my vision blur.

“So fucking wet,” he muttered against my skin, the vibration making me jerk. “And you taste so good. I want to feast on you before I fuck you.”

I couldn’t form words. My hips rocked against his face, chasing every stroke. He added a second finger and pumped them fast. His tongue flicked relentlessly over my swollen clit. Pressure built fast and sharp. I came with a broken shout, thighs clamping around his head, pulsing around his fingers while he licked me through it. The sounds I made shocked even me. I couldn’t bring myself to care if the entire world heard my pleasure.

He didn’t give me time to recover. He stood, grabbed a condom from the nightstand, tore it open with his teeth, and rolled it down his cock quickly.

I struggled to catch my breath. My body twitched with violent aftershocks. Then he was on top of me, yanking my bottoms completely off and spreading my legs wide. He lined up and thrust in deep in one hard stroke, bottoming out so fast it knocked the air from my lungs.

“Beau! Oh god!” I opened my legs wide and took him as deep as possible. He didn’t hold back. He fucked me like he couldn’t stop. His hips snapped. The power of his thrusts had the bed creaking under us. Every time he plunged inside, he dragged over that perfect spot inside me. The wet slap of skin was loud in the room.

“Couldn’t wait,” he panted against my neck, teeth grazing. “Needed to be inside you. So tight. So fucking hot.”

I clawed at his back, meeting every thrust. I arched my back, taking him even deeper as his hips pistoned against mine. Every thrust sent sparks racing through me, building that sweet pressure all over again. I didn’t know what he was doing to my body. It was like a switch had been flipped.

My nails raked down his spine, marking him as mine. “Harder,” I gasped, the word torn from my throat.

He obliged, slamming into me with a force that made the headboard slam against the wall. My breasts bounced with each impact.

The sight of him watching them, eyes glazed with lust, only wound me tighter. I wrapped my legs around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. The angle changed, hitting that perfect spot over and over until I was sobbing his name, incoherent and desperate.

He dropped his forehead to mine, breathing ragged. “That’s it, baby. Come for me again. Let me feel you.” One hand slid between us, thumb circling my clit with ruthless precision. I didn’t think it was possible. I was too sensitive and he knew right where to touch me. The orgasm crashed over me like the waves outside, violent and powerful. I clenched around him, pulsing so hard I felt him shudder in response.

He followed with a hoarse shout, hips jerking as he buried himself balls deep. We stayed locked together, trembling and twitching while the aftershocks rolled through us.

He finally eased out, got up, and disposed of the condom. I couldn’t move. He came back into the room and collapsed on the bed beside me. He pulled me into his arms, tucking my head under his chin.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had that happen before,” I murmured.

“Orgasm?”