The Devil and the Deep - By Amy Andrews Page 0,56

to dust. ‘Your turn,’ he murmured.

She frowned for a moment, confused by his comment, then she looked down at her half-on, half-off bikini top and understood. She pulled it off over her head, being careful not to jar her almost recovered arm. It dropped to the deck next to his boardies.

Rick devoured her curvy roundness in one long slow look. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he breathed.

‘So are you,’ she murmured, her gaze roaming over the perfection of him. This was how she had imagined Vasco. But Rick was more. So much more. He was no figment of her imagination. He was solid flesh and hard muscle and warm blood and he wanted her—Stella—not Mary.

She hadn’t even realised she’d been jealous of Mary until this moment.

But then Rick held out his hand again and she took it and everything else was forgotten. He stepped backwards into the shower and she followed, watching as the water soaked his hair and ran down his chest, before running free down his obliques.

She stepped closer, raising herself on tippy toe, gliding her hands up his pecs and onto his shoulders. His erection pushed against her belly, thick and rampant, and her hand reached for it as she lifted her mouth to his. She felt the jolt through his body as she palmed the length of him and swallowed his groan as their lips fused.

‘Oh...dear...God,’ Rick gasped against her mouth as she increased the intensity of her intimate caress, using the water to her advantage.

Stella couldn’t agree with his sentiments more. She could taste mango and sex on his mouth and the water flowing over their heated skin caressed like icicles and he felt good and right in her hand.

But she wanted him good and right elsewhere.

Inside her.

Deep, deep inside her.

‘You need to be in me,’ she panted, her pulse thrumming so loudly through her ears she was sure she was about to rupture her eardrums.

Rick didn’t need a written invitation. He grabbed her around the waist, boosting her up. As she locked her ankles at his waist he turned around in one easy movement. He pushed her against the entirely inadequate pole the shower head was mounted upon and lowered his mouth to hers, plundering hers until nothing but their two frantic heartbeats registered.

Not even the push and pull of the vast, vast ocean.

And when that wasn’t enough he dropped his head to her chest, devouring the delicious ripeness of her breasts, revelling in the arch of her back and the crazed keening coming from her throat.

‘Now,’ Stella begged, her head thrown back, her chest thrust out in pure debauched abandon.

Rick was hard and ready and done with denying himself. He lifted her slightly, aligning her, aligning himself, nudging her entrance, feeling the still slick heat of her.

‘Rick!’ she begged, lightly pummelling a fist against the muscles of his shoulder as she felt him thick and hard but still not where she wanted him.

Where she needed him.

Rick chuckled at her frustration. ‘Easy, Stel, easy. Let’s make it last this time, huh?’

Stella whacked him harder. ‘Now, damn it,’ she ordered.

Rick grinned. ‘Aye, aye captain,’ he murmured, smothering the very unladylike bellow that came from her mouth as he pushed into her long and hard and deep.

Stella broke away, gasping for air as he slowly withdrew and steadily pushed his way back in again, hitting exactly the right spot every time. ‘Oh, God, yes,’ she panted. ‘Just there. Don’t stop. God, don’t stop!’

She squirmed against him, her head lolling back, water flowing down her breasts, her lips parting in a blissful O.

Rick stroked his tongue down her throat, sipping at the rivulets of water as he kept up the slow easy pace. Her whimpers vibrated against his mouth and he pushed deeper as he slowed right down.

Stella moaned as the subtle friction drove her crazy.

In a good way.

In a never-ever-stop way.

The way she’d always imagined it.

Hard and slow and perfect.

But this was better. So much better. Because it was real.

Rick watched Stella’s breasts rock as he slowly surged into her again. Water sluiced down her chest, traced the contours of her cleavage, clung in droplets at the ends of her nipples. Stars formed a crown above her head and with her blonde hair plastered in wet strips over her shoulders she looked like a water nymph.

‘God,’ Rick groaned, his forehead falling against her chest as the tightness in his groin started to tug at his resistance. ‘You look great in a shower.’

Stella gasped as he pulled out further this