Ride the Tide (Deep Six #3) - Julie Ann Walker Page 0,83

as a siren.

Mason had never thought those two things could coexist in one woman, but she proved him wrong. And despite being a virgin, she seemed to understand physical pleasure on a visceral level.

She approached it the same way she approached everything in her life. Headfirst and with gusto. As if it were her due. Which, he supposed, it was. It was every woman’s.

But Alex made it hot as fuck.

Having kissed his way down her body, reacquainting himself with all the places he’d found in his earlier explorations, he finally made it to his destination. He lay between her legs, his dick pressed firmly against the blanket so the fabric could catch the drops of excitement that slowly leaked from him.

“You ready?” He placed a tender kiss on her hip bone.

“I was born ready.”

His chuckle was low and full of lust. Then, he immediately sobered as he thought, I know just how she feels. It seemed he’d been put on the planet for this one purpose. To be her first. To guide her. To teach her. To know her.

But first…

He wanted—no, he needed—to make good on his promise to taste her.

Draping her legs over his shoulders, he sucked in a breath. The view was unreal. So pretty. So pink. So swollen and ready.

The sight had his balls quivering for release. The tangy, clean smell of her arousal made his nostrils flare.

“Please, Mason.” Her hips thrust up at him. The most female of invitations.

It was all he needed. He buried his face between her thighs.

She moaned when he licked, whimpered when he sucked, and cried out incoherently when he caught her clitoris between his teeth and stabbed at it with his tongue. Her taste was salty and candied and something more. Something that was uniquely Alex.

He hoarded every sound. Every squirm. Every flavor. Stored every memory so he could conjure them up for future fantasies.

“I need you to—” Her hands were in his hair, her fingers gripping and pulling in frustration because she was close but couldn’t quite fall over the edge.

“I know what you need,” he growled against her swollen, hungry flesh, sinking two fingers deep into her wet heat.

Wail was really the only word to describe the sound that issued from the back of her throat. Raising her head, she looked down to watch what he was doing. Her eyes collided with his, and that was all it took for her body to go into nuclear meltdown.

He thought it’d been amazing to feel her come apart around his fingers. But nothing compared to this. To the smell of her release. The taste of it. The feel of her thighs clasped tight around his ears.

He decided if he died then and there, he’d be happy. Because… What a way to go.

He didn’t die, of course. He continued to gently suck and lick until the final tremors tore through her and her legs fell listlessly to the sides.

Pushing into a kneeling position, he never took his eyes off her, wanting to see every last quiver of delight, while at the same time reaching into the picnic basket for the jimmies he’d stored there.

It was the work of an instant to roll one on. But he was so needy, so ready, that even the touch of his own hand was enough to make him hiss.

The sound had Alex’s eyes fluttering open. The pleasure he saw in them was still crystalline and sharp. But the way she looked at him?

Oh, the way she looked at him made him feel… There was no word for it. Desirable and heroic to start. But then add in trusted and adored.

This must be how Superman feels, he thought.

“I can’t wait anymore,” he told her, his voice raw.

“I don’t want you to.” She reached for him, but he resisted the haul of her hands against his shoulders. He wanted to see the moment he entered her.

Lifting her leg to make room for himself, he grabbed the base of his cock and placed his swollen head at her entrance, notching inside the barest inch.

“You’ll tell me if anything hurts?” A bead of sweat gathered at his temple. Another slipped down the groove of his spine.

She bit her bottom lip and nodded.

That was all the permission he needed. Claiming her mouth, he sank in another inch.

It was heaven. It was hell. And even though every fiber of his being screamed at him to stroke home, to rut and fuck and take her, take her, take her, he couldn’t.

He had to

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