renegotiate.”
“What? Now?”
“Right now. We need to renegotiate the sex.”
“Ah. I do like you, Miranda. You think of everything.”
He yanked her in hard, hard enough that she could feel his nipple rings even through
her bathing suit top—and suddenly remembered she was no longer wearing any bottoms.
Which was incredibly hot. She pressed closer against him.
“So what do we do, Roan?”
“If your suggestion regarding negotiating sex means you are giving your consent, then
I believe I fuck you until you can’t walk, my beauty.”
“Oh! Yes, please.”
In a flash he’d lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist so that his hard cock
was pressed against her needy sex, with nothing but his wet swim trunks in the way.
She moaned, needing more.
“If only I had a damn condom handy,” he growled in her ear. Then he shifted her until
she was over his broad shoulder once more.
“Roan—”
A sharp smack on her bare ass shut her up. Nothing more came out of her but soft moans
as he stroked and pinched her skin, carrying her back up the beach toward the cabana.
Some small part of her brain protested at the way he was man handling her, but mostly
she simply loved it.
He laid her down roughly on the couch and she waited, watching as he stepped quickly
out of his trunks to reveal the beauty of his hard cock. It was thick and long, a
light golden color, the swollen head a bit darker. She wanted to wrap her hand around
it. Her lips. Her pussy.
He kept his gaze on hers, two points of darkly burning green, as he tore open a small
gold packet and sheathed himself.
“Where did you get that?”
“Shh. And open for me.”
She did as he asked, loving the command in his voice and the feel of his big body
as he slid between her thighs. He kept his gaze on hers as he reached between them
and brushed his fingers over her wet pussy.
She licked her lips.
“Oh, yes. You know that makes me crazy,” he murmured. “That wet little tongue of yours
on your gorgeous lips. But these lips are wet and gorgeous, too,” he said, stroking
her.
“Mmm… Oh…”
“I am going to fuck you, Miranda. Even saying the words makes me harder. Seeing you
lying here under me. I am so damn hard for you I can barely stand it. But I’m going
to torture you a bit first.”
She squirmed, tried to close her eyes, but he caught her chin in his hand. “You will
look at me,” he commanded. “You will watch me while I play with you. Tell me you understand.”
She groaned. “Oh God Roan. Yes. I understand. Sir. Fuck.”
He chuckled, let her chin go and went back to teasing her pussy lips with his clever
fingertips.
“Do you like it when I touch you like this?”
“Yes, Roan.”
She was dying. With pleasure. With unmet need. Her pulse was racing.
“Do you like it when I press into you, beauty? Into your beautiful, hot pussy?” He
slid his fingers into her, pulled out, pushed deeper. Pleasure shivered through her
sex, through her body.
“Ah….God, yes, Roan.”
He leaned in and brushed her lips with his. She tilted her chin, wanting to be kissed,
but he moved away, flicked his tongue over her mouth. Waited, then did it again. Then
again. She began to squirm.
“Still, Miranda,” he whispered against her lips. “Hold still and take it.”
“I can’t!”
“I’ll help you.”
He leaned in and kissed her then, his soft, warm mouth on hers, his tongue opening
her up as his fingers did. Her body was filling up with pleasure: his tongue, his
hand, the breadth of his big body spreading her open wide. And the scent of him filling
up her head.
She was shaking with the effort to hold still as pleasure spiraled inside her, crested,
held her at that keen edge.
He stopped.
“No, Roan.”
“Oh, yes.”
He pulled back, rising up on his knees. And with his gaze firmly on hers, he took
his thick shaft in his hand, spread her pussy with the other, and pushed into
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