He caught and swallowed a whimper coming from her throat, the sound of her arousal making him lose every thought except making her come. She needed, and he wanted to provide.
Pulling his mouth from hers, he rasped, “Come for me, Sarah. I need to make you come.” His need to satiate her was unstoppable. As much as he wanted to bury himself inside of her heat, he couldn’t. The beach was deserted at the moment, and there was only the moonlight to illuminate them, but he selfishly didn’t want anyone to see her vulnerable except him.
“I can’t,” she panted. “I—”
“You can,” he told her harshly, his breathing getting heavier as he grasped a lock of her hair and tilted her head back to taste the soft skin of her neck. He teased the small bundle of nerves relentlessly with his fingers, feeling her grow impossibly wetter as he stroked her over and over. “You’re so hot, sweetheart.”
“Dante, I can’t stop—”
“Don’t stop,” he demanded, feeling her entire body start to tremble against him. “Come for me.”
She moaned, making sweet sounds of pleasure that satisfied Dante in a way he’d never experienced before. He bit gently on the skin of her neck, and that seemed to make her even crazier. She squirmed, but he didn’t give a shit about the pain it caused to his sore ribs. Her frenzy fed his, and he put more pressure on her clit, moving faster and faster.
“Dante, Dante,” she moaned, her nails biting into his back through his light T-shirt.
“Come for me, Sarah,” he growled, loving the sound of his name on her lips when she was on the verge of orgasm, needing to feel her release.
“Yes,” she moaned, totally lost.
Dante covered her mouth again, this time to smother her scream as her body vibrated with the strength of her climax. He prolonged her bliss as long as possible, caressing her * until she sagged against him, spent.
Mine.
He wrapped an arm around her waist for support and laid her head against his shoulder, stroking her hair as he relished the feeling of exhilaration pumping through his body. The satisfaction vaulting through him right now was better than the best fuck he’d ever had.
“This is what we have in common, Sarah,” he said huskily as he absently toyed with her hair.
“Lust?” she answered breathlessly. “I can’t believe that just happened.”
For some reason, Dante wasn’t happy with her description of what was happening between them. He’d had lust. This was something entirely different. But he answered, “Yeah. What’s wrong with lust?”
“I didn’t think it would be like this,” she admitted, her voice laced with uncertainty. “That was . . . overwhelming.”
Dante felt like beating on his chest. Overwhelming was good. He wanted to shatter every illusion she had about sensible passion. She’d completely ruined him for ever having casual sex again. He knew that, and he wanted her to be as stunned as he was right now.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry. I’m all over you,” Sarah exclaimed, sounding mortified. “You shouldn’t be taking my weight right now. Damn! Why do you make me forget rational thought?”
Dante smirked into the darkness and tightened his hold on her. “It doesn’t hurt, and you can’t think straight because you just had a mind-blowing orgasm. And I wish you were all over me.”
“This is not amusing.” Sarah pulled away from him and picked up the dog leash on the sand. Coco was lying on the beach only a few feet away, and she snapped the leash onto the dog’s collar before she turned back toward him. “We have to stop this, Dante.”
“I can’t,” he told her gravely, knowing he couldn’t. This was as new for him as it was for her, but he wasn’t afraid of it. He was more afraid of losing the chance of having the intensity of the emotions Sarah made him feel. He’d been living in darkness since the day Patrick died. If he was honest, the emptiness had probably been there for quite a while on some level, even before Patrick’s death. “You make me feel alive again,” he confessed hoarsely.
Dante took her hand and led her safely to the boardwalk where there was more light. They started walking slowly back toward the youth center.
“I know these last few weeks have been difficult for you, Dante. Maybe you just need a distraction, but I can’t do this,” she said flatly as she walked along beside him.
“You think that’s what this is? A distraction? A distraction is watching a movie or a football game. A distraction is going fishing or stopping for a beer. A distraction is not losing my fucking mind over a woman.” Dante paused near his truck and grasped her upper arm to stop her from going any farther. “Have dinner with me.”
She looked up at him, her eyes shining with uncertainty and damp with tears. Seeing her sadness and her eyes welled up with tears slammed him in the gut.