“Interesting,” I remarked. The wind was brushing against my bare sex, eliciting rather delightful tingles. I spread my legs a little. “When does the banquet dinner start?”
“Half an hour. Spouses are invited.” He rubbed the towel over his chest. “Sort of formal, though.”
“Oh. No sundress, then.”
“I guess not.”
“What about underwear?”
He stopped, jerking his gaze to me. “Uh… what?”
I plucked at my skirt. “Can’t wear a sundress. But I’ll probably have to put on some underwear.”
“You’re not wearing any?”
“No.” I swung my legs off the railing and turned toward him, parting my legs enough to give him a little peek of my nakedness. “Guess I should get dressed properly, then.”
His eyes narrowed, even as his breathing began to increase. “What’re you doing?”
“Nothing.” I looked at him, blinking with innocence. “Just hoped you’d want to fuck me on the balcony before dinner.”
A thrill raced through me when he threw down the towel and stalked toward me, all sudden heat and dark glower.
“You’d better know what you’re asking for, Mrs. West,” he growled.
I didn’t exactly (the balcony?), but my heart pounded with excitement when he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me in for a deep kiss. The air lit with a fevered intensity, a sensation I loved as much I loved the slow burn of our more leisurely lovemaking. The fact that I could do this with one spread of my legs—turn him from a tired academic into a hard, intense hunk—was a heady power.
Dean pushed his tongue into my mouth, his chest rock-solid against mine, his skin still damp and soap-scented. He latched a hand to the back of my neck, deepening the kiss as I wound my arms around him.
He grasped the folds of my dress and pulled it up over my legs, his erection already poking against my abdomen, his muscles cording. Air gusted against my naked bottom. I shivered.
“Wait,” I gasped. “Are… are you sure no one can see us?”
He laughed, sliding his big hands around to my ass. “Too late to worry about that now.”
The very idea that someone could be watching us made my pulse leap. Dean reached between us to pull his cock out of his boxers. I moaned aloud at the sight of the rigid shaft, all taut skin and pulsing veins. I took him in my hand and rubbed, cupping my fingers so he could thrust into the vise of my fist.
Another gust of wind whipped my hair around my face, blew my dress up higher. Dean pressed his hand between my legs, his breath hot against my forehead. He moved away from me to go back into the room, returning with a condom packet.
“Now turn around.” It was an order, guttural and deep.
I sucked in a breath and turned. Sweat trickled between my breasts. I started to quiver with a combination of excitement and nerves. Dean put his hands on my hips and gently pushed me farther out onto the balcony. Then he reached around to take my wrists and guided my hands to the railing.
“Hold on, beauty,” Dean whispered, closing his teeth around my earlobe. “It’s going to be a helluva ride.”
A shudder rocked me from head to toe. I gripped the metal railing, my palms damp with sweat. A plane swooped overhead, the engine a dull roar in my ears. A streak of sunlight burned my neck.
Dean pulled my dress up to my waist, baring me completely to the wind and his gaze.
“Fucking beautiful,” he muttered.
He pushed his thigh between my legs, spreading me farther apart. Shivers rained down my spine. My belly coiled with tension. He drew one finger down the crack of my ass and into my sex, his touch a light teasing that ratcheted up my frustration. After his powerful, sexy grabbing of me, I was ready to be completely taken.
“You want more?” he asked, running the tip of his finger around my clit.
“God, Dean, yes.”
“What?”
My face warmed with a blush.
“Tell me and I might give it to you,” he murmured. He rubbed his palm in circles around my ass, creating a delicious friction.
“Your… your cock in me,” I gasped. “I want you to fuck me hard.”
A second later, he was pressing into me, his fingers digging into my hips, his shaft sliding with deliberate ease into me, stretching me fully. My heartbeat pounded inside my head. My blood blazed. I clutched the railing and struggled to take all of him. He shifted his grip to my waist and pulled me back against him.
“Wider.” His voice was strained.
I spread my legs wider, my muscles trembling. Dean pressed a hand to my back, forcing my upper body lower and pushing my bottom up toward him.
“Dean!”
“Hold on.” He seized my hips again, pulled back, and thrust forward.
I cried out, stunned by the sheer power of his thrusts, the way every movement stimulated parts of me I hadn’t known existed. He went deep, so deep, his sac slapping against me, his thighs tight against mine.