Wild Open Hearts (Bluewater Billionaires) - Kathryn Nolan Page 0,70

mouth with a greedy groan. “Every night, I fuck my fist and take you in a million different ways, sweetheart.” His fingers tangled in the ends of my long hair, giving me a slow, gentle pull until my breasts arched fully into his face. He licked his tongue along my cleavage, lapping at the drop of sweat there. “I fuck you filthy and fast. Slow and long. Hard.” Beck gave me a particularly intense thrust and I had to muffle a cry. “I’ve bent you over this bike, eaten your pussy on my kitchen table. Taken you in my shower again and again and again.”

“The… the shower?” I gasped. That was a special fantasy of mine. “More. Tell me more.”

Beck’s hot mouth moved to my other breast, tasting me like a dessert he’d waited a lifetime to savor. His tongue flattened, stroked, while his cock kept pressing at my clit. “All that hot water, Luna. All that steam. Your naked body against glass while I fuck you from behind in the spray.”

There was a tightening at the base of my spine, my body expanding and contracting with every dirty word out of his mouth. “Can you picture me there, Luna? Your face pressed to the wall while I slide inside you?”

Oh, I could. Beck would stretch me, and there’d be a bite of pain followed by the sweetest friction in the entire world.

“You would feel like paradise,” he said, grinding me roughly now.

Getting me there, close, close, close. I was so out of my mind I had to bury my face in his neck and sob.

“I think about fucking you in your office.”

“I want… I want that, Beck,” I mumbled, reaching a precipice, racing towards it. I was grinding on Beck Mason on his motorcycle, mindless with it, while he muttered sex fantasies into my ear.

“Can you picture me there, under your desk?”

I sobbed a yes.

“Don’t you think a woman like you deserves to have a man on his knees with his mouth between her legs?”

“So close…” I chanted. “Oh, god. It’s too good.”

“Nothing’s too good for you, Luna,” he praised. “Fuck me, sweetheart. Take what you deserve.”

He gripped my cheeks and slammed our mouths together. It was the kind of kiss that obliterated your senses. It sent stars spinning and waves crashing as I climaxed. Aftershocks burst like pops of color while I sucked in heaving gulps of humid night air.

And then Beck, pulling me hard to his massive chest and holding me. Stroking my naked, slick skin. Kissing my temple. When our eyes finally met, my heart leapt with pure, unfiltered joy.

While my brain said uh-oh.

Beck Mason had given me The First Kiss to End All Kisses, after a surprise first date that both delighted and comforted me, after weeks of watching his shy grins, his kind actions, his true heart—all the many ways he moved through this world with real compassion. He performed beautiful deeds for this world every day, on purpose and without an audience.

Uh-oh.

My body was shifting, releasing the lust, the heady arousal. Welcoming even more feelings for him. I was falling, I was sure of it. What else could explain this weightlessness?

Beck’s thumb traced my bottom lip. “For the record, Luna—that’s how I show a woman how I feel.”

Fireworks.

38

Luna

I woke up a changed woman.

Literally.

The sun streamed in through my white, gauzy curtains—and my first sense was birdsong, ocean waves. It was another balmy morning in Miami.

The memory of last night came roaring back, momentarily stealing my breath. The Kiss. That orgasm. My body writhing against Beck’s massive one, on his bike, in the middle of my courtyard. The sensations had been otherworldly, not like anything I’d ever experienced before with any other lover. I wanted him here now, naked, in my bed—wanted the ability to explore every plane of his body with my mouth, wanted Beck gasping, unable to take any more pleasure.

Except he would, right? His passion for me felt like an endless thing in the most beautiful way. Never before had I actually experienced the feeling of being devoured. Worshipped. The knowledge of that infused my mind with thoughts I hadn’t let myself examine for a long time.

Thoughts about compassion. Image. Money.

My gold rings were stacked next to a picture of my parents and me in my early twenties, grinning cheesily on a random hiking trail, packs strapped to our backs. My parents were both teachers, as big-hearted as you could get, and yet their actions weren’t monetized. My entire life they