Heart of Fire (Blood of Zeus #2) - Meredith Wild Page 0,79

to you. I want this with you…often…completely…forever.”

His vow, full of such promise and fervency, has my heart overflowing and my blood simmering. Before I tear my stare away from his rippled abdomen and lift it back up, reconnecting with the fixated focus of his breathtaking blue eyes.

“Right now, I have other ideas about what you can give me, Mr. Kane.”

He rocks back his head once more, his soul-deep sigh swirling with the bonfire sparks in the summer air. Nothing can prepare me for the perfection of him right now. His body, so sleek and sculpted. His hair, a thick riot across the blanket and out into the sand. His joy, unhindered and free. It’s an intoxicating force, wrapping around us both like a living thing, blooming into something even better when it joins with the rise of his arousal.

It’s become wild, racing thunder on the air—or is that just his resonance in my mind? That answer’s moot once he grabs for my skirt, furiously shoving the peach froth aside, until his long, demanding fingers get to the last barrier between us. My silk panties.

Though I’m shocked his low rumble doesn’t melt the whole garment off, he takes care of the challenge anyway. With one determined tug, he’s provided enough clearance for our flesh to slide together, blissfully reunited.

“Oh!” I gasp, pleasantly shocked by the urgent nudge of his swollen crown.

“Sorry,” he grates. “No. I’m not sorry. Fuck, I need you, little temptress. Need…this…”

“Yes.” I barely choke it out as we slide together, merging more perfectly than the waves with this sand. As he stretches me wider, finally seating home deep inside, my whole soul recognizes how much that makes sense. He’s the moon to my tide. The magnet that’s changed all my gravity. And I never, ever want that to change.

I brace myself to his shoulders as that force intensifies and then even more as we rock together, finding a rhythm that’s as new and amazing as it is familiar and affirming. Desire crowds the last of my logical thoughts just like the clouds imposing on the stars overhead. A smile breaches my lips when those thunderheads growl, quivering the sky itself. I’d be addicted to this man and his passion even without the meteorological kink, but it’s definitely an extra aphrodisiac.

Just like the way he rolls at the height of each thrust.

And grips my hips with sensual demand.

And fills my gaze with unbridled adoration. My ears, with his low groans of primal need.

And soon, my body with his scorching release.

As soon as he nears his climax, I’m ablaze too. I burst and swear and tremble from the force of it. My overwhelmed tears are joined by some heavy drops from the impatient squall overhead. The storm dissipates before we’re even done with the thick of our torrid tryst, but that doesn’t stop me from twisting my head, looking both ways on the beach.

“Hey,” Maximus murmurs, his own stare intense on me. “You okay? Did I hurt y—” He catches himself, already knowing the answer to that. “Did I…satisfy you? I thought, when you were shaking all over—”

“Oh, you thought right.” I seal the assurance by smashing a long kiss to his welcoming lips. Once I’ve untangled my tongue from his again, I add, “I was just hoping I didn’t have to scramble for a visit from your dad.”

He laughs. “Or your mom.”

I drop my jaw. “Bite your tongue!”

He snarls suggestively, undulating his hips. “I’d prefer it if you bit it.”

I narrow my eyes, which are likely brimming with naughtiness. “So now you want me to be a vampire?”

“Well, I—” he interjects in on himself. “Don’t tell me they really do exist too.”

“No idea.” I give his lower lip a playful bite. “But maybe sometime I’ll try some creative interpretation.”

After he turns my little taste into a wet and sweltering tongue tangle, he pulls back with his eyes closed and his lips in a satisfied curl. “Just listening to you say ‘creative interpretation’ has me wanting to bring back those thunderheads, beautiful.”

I giggle before nuzzling my mouth to his ear. “Creative interpretation.”

His rough exhalation and swift thrust lifts me by several inches.

I gasp but manage to goad him further. “Creative interpretation.”

“You’re such a bad girl.”

“Creative interpr—ahhh!”

My shriek corresponds to his powerful sweep, lifting and flipping until I’m the one with sand in my hair and the whole sky in my view. At once, my scream gives way to a mesmerized moan. The coastal sky has never been more incredible, especially