Page 135 of Wicked Bonds

He knew she wanted him to make love to her, not fuck her.

And he was doing exactly that with his body and mind.

His knees bent as he lowered them to the beach, his strength and power radiating around them as he executed the move with flawless grace. Her skirts formed a blanket beneath her as he settled between her thighs, his palm sliding from her nape to her cheek.

She stared up into his dark eyes, saw the emotion radiating back at her.

The connection between them throbbed, the moon painting them in a romantic embrace destined for the heavens.

His hips shifted slowly, gliding his thick arousal through her tight sheath, penetrating her deep before slipping back to the tip to begin all over again.

She arched into him, a soft cry of need parting her lips. But he didn’t increase his pace, instead ensuring she felt every inch of him gliding in and out of her with each measured movement.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, squeezing him as he filled her once more.

He kissed her again, this time with intent, his tongue coaxing and urging her to give in to him, to focus solely on him, to be one with him.

It wasn’t hard to obey, her body already his to command. She’d never felt more at home, more comfortable, more in tune with another, in her entire existence.

This was Balthazar.HerBalthazar. And he knew exactly what she craved.

His thumb grazed her cheekbone before tracing downward to her neck and all the way to her breast. He rolled her stiff nipple between his fingertips, shooting vibrations through every inch of her body. Such a simple touch and yet so undeniably erotic.

She sighed, her hips meeting his, her body melting into the sand beneath him.

He gave a sudden thrust, hitting that spot deep within her and eliciting a sharp sound from her throat. One he swallowed with his tongue before coaxing her back into a delirious state of dark sensuality.

She drew her nails up his back, her fingertips reveling in the muscles beneath his shirt and longing to pet the silken skin beneath. But there was something undeniably sexy about fucking in their clothes.

On a public beach.

With spectators nearby.

It was the perfect moment. An even better memory than before. And she basked in the beauty of it all.

“You’re perfect,” Balthazar whispered, the praise going straight to her heart. “Everything about you is perfect.”

His kiss turned molten, the passion thrumming between them in full force as the pace between their hips subtly increased.

Some of the bystanders had joined in, the electricity in the air intensifying as they indulged in the hedonistic display on the beach. Leela groaned, their open sensuality an aphrodisiac to her senses.

Maybe Balthazar had given them a little push with his power.

Or perhaps it was the energy radiating from them that had enticed the others to play.

She didn’t overthink it, didn’t analyze how it had happened, just savored the sexual charisma of the night. “Harder,” she told him.

He obliged, his body exuding power and grace as he drove into her.

The others were following suit, the wake of heat a palpable enticement.

She had no idea how many had joined them on the beach. She didn’t care. The scents and sounds rolled with the waves, drugging her senses and drowning her in a sea of blissful ignorance with Balthazar as her guide.

He kissed her through the sensations, his control resolute.

And she fell headfirst into his every whim, her body acutely his to play with and please.

His hand left her breast, sliding between them to thrum her clit, his intentions clear.