Tempt (Take It Off #3)(23)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“Who?” I asked, not wanting to talk. Talking was clearly overrated.

He chuckled. “Good answer.”

He lowered until our bodies brushed together and then he moved down, dragging his skin across mine, and I arched up, the touch driving me insane. He grasped the strings at my hips, and tugged, but he didn’t pull the bottoms away.

“Can I see you, Ava? Can I see all of you?”

“Please,” I whispered, rolling my hips.

The night air brushed over my newly bared skin and once again he whispered something in Spanish. It sounded like a prayer.

His fingers played with the nest of short curls between my legs, tugging and caressing. My eyes opened wide, shock rippling through me. He was going to touch me there?

Instead of feeling insecure and embarrassed, I was curious. I wanted to know the kinds of pleasure he could elicit with a single touch.

I didn’t have to wait long. He drew two fingers down the center of me, his fingertips gliding through the silky wetness that my body was pumping out to excess.

He groaned. “You’re soaked.”

Before I could say anything or wonder if that was good or bad, those two naughty fingers slipped inside me. My back arched up off the sand and I grabbed for something to anchor me to the ground because surely I was going to float away.

In and out, in and out, his fingers worked me, my muscles contracting around them, begging for more. I was panting. The sensations rippling through my body were unmatched. It was the single most pleasurable feeling I had ever known.

And then he kissed me. Down there.

As his fingers worked, stretching out my entrance, his tongue began to lick at my folds, delving around, looking for something. Something I really wanted him to find.

My hips started to move, pumping up against him, moving with his rhythm. And then his mouth closed over the hardened bud deep at my center. He tugged and gently sucked at it. I cried out.

His fingers slid out of me, skimming up my center and leaving behind a trail of moisture. I was trembling, my skin was vibrating, and I couldn’t lie still. I had to move. I had to get there.

“What do you want, bella?” he drawled from between my thighs.

I couldn’t tell him because I didn’t know. I was floating around in unchartered territory and I was solely dependent on him to show me the way. I whimpered.

He flattened his palms, one on each thigh, and pushed my legs wide, completely opening me up to him. And then he came forward, delving his tongue into my opening, his mouth connecting with my most secret place.

I bucked up. The feeling was so intense. He clamped down on my hips, pinning them into the sand, refusing to let me move. And then he licked up, one long, firm stroke, and my entire world shattered.

He held me down as I cried out, blinding white light exploding behind my eyes, completely decimating thought and knowledge of everything and anything. I wanted to squirm around so badly, but he wouldn’t let me. I had to lie there beneath him, next to the fire and the sand at my back, and do nothing but let the orgasm roll over my body relentlessly.

When at last my body quieted and the sound of the crashing waves filled my ears, I lay back, completely boneless and breathing heavily.

Nash came over me once more, his curls falling over his forehead. “You, mi bella, are not broken. You are fucking perfect. So hot I almost came in my shorts.”

“I want to see you.”

One eyebrow lifted. “Do you now?”

I nodded.

I’d never felt so relaxed in my entire life. He rocked back between my legs and reached for the button on his shorts. I pushed up onto my elbows to watch.

He gazed at me, tenderness filling his eyes. “We can stop right here. We don’t have to go any further. Your pleasure is my pleasure. It’s more than enough for me.”

I believed him. He would stop and he wouldn’t get angry and he wouldn’t tell me I was cold. “I don’t want to stop.”

I sat up the rest of the way and reached for his button, fully intending on experiencing everything I possibly could with him.

In that moment, a sound cut through the darkness.

It was the kind of sound that completely obliterated the passion surrounding us, the kind of sound that had Nash diving on top of me to shield my body from any harm.

We lay there silently until all went still and I was wondering if maybe we had imagined it. But then it pierced the night again.

We weren’t hearing things.

We were hearing gunshots.

11

Nothing like the fear of being shot in your slumber to ruin a perfectly good night. After we heard those two shots penetrate the night, we gathered our clothes (okay, so they were my clothes) and hurried back to the plane.

Nash shielded me the entire way.

Once inside, I slipped on an oversized T-shirt I had in my suitcase and a pair of panties. Nash stood in the back of the plane, staring out into the darkness for a long time. After a long while of hearing nothing, we laid out all the blankets we could find on the floor against the wall and then lay down with a pillow and used the remaining blanket to cover us.

It was the first night I slept with him.

Well, in his arms.

It was the first time I lay all night with a warm body pressed against mine and an arm draped over my waist. Whenever I moved, he moved. Whenever I shifted, his body would follow. It’s like we were two giant human magnets that couldn’t be separated.

Yes, we were stranded and alone. We had very little food, very little water. We had no TV, no cell phone, and our choices for sleeping were limited to uncomfortable chairs or the floor of a plane. And yet…

I’d never been more comfortable.

It was a little unsettling to realize that just the mere presence of one person could make up for every comfort and convenience you thought you could never live without.

*    *    *

The sun was up when I stretched against him, my first thought being that we made it through another night without being attacked by weirdoes with machetes. The weight of being stranded on this island threatened to crush me, and I had to take a deep breath. How many more days would we be here? We needed a plan, some kind of hope that we wouldn’t end up trapped here forever.

Or worse.

As I worried, a hand stroked over my hip. My shirt had ridden up during the night and Nash caressed my bare skin. “Good morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

“Hi.” I tried not to notice his morning “wood,” as he put it, but it was kind of hard to miss. I had to admit, it was a good distraction from my mental state of chaos.