Page 40

God, he loved freckles.

Her slightly darker skin was dotted with them everywhere, and he wanted to kiss each one.

“Do you always like to watch yourself work?” she cooed with a sexy voice that made his toes curl.

“What man doesn’t?” He waggled his brows. “Especially when I can make you squirm and moan when I do this.” He leaned over, bringing his lips to her body once again, sucking at first, then gently lapping, savoring every lick. She tasted like pineapples drizzled in coconut juice.

He’d died and gone to heaven.

"You're so…strange." She chuckled, squirming beneath his touch. The words seemed to blend in a weird sort of harmony with the silence that had taken over the room—only broken by their quiet whispers and the occasional moan. "In a good way."

"I'll take that as a compliment." He kissed his way up her body, giving each breast the attention it deserved, before gently nibbling on her lower lip and pulling her closer as he continued to explore her body. Every inch of her skin felt like a new territory, uncharted and alluring. Her reactions to his touch were intoxicating—enough to make him forget the world outside his cabin.

“Do I need to reach for protection?” he whispered, looking into her sexy green eyes while his fingers delved deeper, curling upward, causing her to moan and her hips to rise. There was an intensity in her gaze, a question buried beneath layers of confidence and carnal desire.

He wasn’t sure what to make of that. She’d come here with a boatload of baggage and a massive chip on her shoulder. She trusted no one, including him, and he didn’t blame her for that.

But he wasn’t the enemy, and she was naked in his arms, moaning in perfect pleasure.

“I’m on the pill, and it’s been a very long time.” She responded breathlessly, her nails digging into the muscular expanse of his back. It was as if she were desperate, which wasn’t her at all.

Not that he knew her, but he knew enough.

She tugged at his jeans. Her deft little fingers had them unbuttoned and unzipped before he could blink. She curled her fingers around his length, and he hissed. His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t expand his lungs. Nor could he release the air trapped inside.

As quickly as he could, he kicked himself out of his pants.

This was different than what he’d been used to in the last couple of years of his dating life. This wasn't a fling or a one-night stand. This was raw, unhinged—an exploration of desire and lust that had been buried deep within since they’d first met.

And then she did something entirely unexpected once again.

She pushed him onto his back and straddled him, her eyes glowing fiercely in the dim light of his cabin. Not in submission but in equal desire. He could see it—she wasn't just along for the ride; she wanted to feel just as much control as he did. It was intoxicating, addictive even.

"Jesus," he gasped as she pushed herself onto him, a wave of pleasure washing over him like wildfire. A low growl escaped his lips as he gripped her hips firmly and let her take control.

She rode him hard and fast, matching his every thrust with fierce intent that made his entire body tingle with pleasure. He lost himself in the rhythm of their bodies, the way her small breasts bounced with each movement, and the way her fiery hair cascaded over her shoulders. He bit down on his lip to suppress a groan as he felt himself nearing the edge. Squeezing his eyes closed, he did whatever he could to make this last.

For her.

"Look at me," she commanded, her voice straining with the kind of greed that drove a man wild. Her hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as she rode him relentlessly.

He opened his eyes and met hers—looking into the depths of the thirst she held within. It was like diving into an ocean that was both wild and captivating at the same time. His heart pounded in his chest.

Together, they drowned out the last remaining echoes of their worries and fears, leaving only pure, unadulterated lust in its wake.

And when they finally found release, they didn't just climax. They exploded together. She screamed his name so loudly he was sure everyone renting a cabin heard it, while he clung to her fiercely as if his life depended on it. As if he were drowning in her.

Moments later, when they collapsed together on the bed, panting heavily and bathing in the afterglow, neither cared about reputation or rumors anymore—at least, he hoped she didn’t.

They had wanted each other. Craved each other. Maybe even needed each other.

And they hadn't just given the town something to talk about—they’d given themselves a night they would remember for a lifetime.

He pulled the covers over their naked bodies and held her close, tangling his hand in her fireball of thick hair.

She rested her head on his chest, her fingers dancing on his scars. Once again, she kissed the burn marks. A constant reminder of what had happened. Of life lost.

Of his many failures.