The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,340

looks like a pearl sitting on a throne of diamonds, doesn’t it?” She says, her pensive voice breaking the silence after a few minutes.

I follow her gaze to the horizon. The moon is low and glowing and the glittering stars that spangle the sky around it, do look like a congregation of courtiers paying homage to their sovereign. But if we’re going to talk, it’s not going to be about the fucking sky.

“You called me back, are you okay?” I ask, my patience fraying badly.

“Why did you ask me to come with you?” There’s a gravity in her husky voice that belies her casual tone and matter of fact inflection.

“Why are you asking me a question you know the answer to?”

“Humor me,” her voice is clipped.

I sit up, but keep my eyes facing forward. “Because, you needed to get away.”

“I see.” Her voice is barely audible, but the hurt in it resounds.

I turn to look at her.

Her jaw is clenched tight and her throat works as if she’s swallowing down something thick and dry.

“Regan, what’s wrong?”

“Why don’t you want me anymore?”

Her question is as shocking as an ice bath after a hot shower. I stare at her, dumbfounded for a few seconds.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I growl and stand up.

“Where are you going?” she gazes up at me from her perch in the sand.

“Nowhere, come on,” I stick my hand out to help her up, too.

“Okay,” she drawls before taking my offered hand and rising to her feet.

I let go of her hand, and peer at her, trying to see if she’s serious. Until I see the frustration I’m feeling mirrored in her dark eyes.

I lay a hand on her neck, and she sighs in pleasure, but that hurt expression is still there. “I’m going to forgive you for asking me that because I can tell something is wrong. But you have to know, that me not wanting…that’s not a thing that could be.”

Her eyes snap open, the sadness and confusion is gone, and she glares daggers at me. “I practically waved my pussy in your face just now, and you didn’t even look up from your damn book,” she snaps, and arches her neck to evade my grasp.

“Oh, I looked…but you took your dress off to shower. I would never presume you wanted—"

“Did that girl you walked away with, the one you were helping with her flaps,” she puts air quotes around the last word, “did you presume she wanted you to stay and hang out or did she ask you to?”

Her jealousy, misguided as it is, is delicious.

I frown in feigned bemusement. “Hmmmm, I’m surprised you noticed given how engrossed you were with your harem of geriatric perverts.”

Her lips curl into a scowl. “I was trying to have fun. You turned into a moody grinch as soon as we got here, and then you left me to go off with your little band of man stealing whores.”

I laugh out loud.

“It’s not funny, I walked right past their tent and I could hear you talking, them laughing,” she snaps and arches her neck to pull away from me. I slide my fingers into the damp tangle of hair at her nape and hold her still.

I lean in and draw in a lungful sea salt and citrus and press my lips to her ear. “I don’t even remember their names. I only ever see you.”

“Stone,” my name leaves her lips on a gust of warm breath, and my body responds to the plea in it, but I need to hear her say it. My fingers fist around her hair and I tilt her face up to mine.

“Tell me what you want, Goddess.” Her eyes glimmer like twin stars set into the beautiful moonlit face that I always find poetry in.

She slides her arms up my shoulders and lifts onto her toes so that her lips are scant inches from mine. “I want you to touch me. I want your hands on me. I want your mouth on me. I want your dick in me. I want to sleep in, swim, eat, and squeeze every last drop of joy and happy out of the time we have here. I want you. So badly. No one but you. Is that clear enough?”

I almost come on the spot.

No rush of adrenaline I’ve ever felt can compare to the sweet, dizzying thrill of finally catching my Venus.

“Perfectly.” I drop a kiss on her mouth and then step back so I can see