“No.”
She swirled her thumb over the crest of his cock, using the fluid that had gathered there to lubricate her movements. His eyes were locked onto what she was doing, but she was watching his face, his sharp breaths when she gripped him hard, the way his nostrils flared when she rolled both hands over his cock. She kept her gaze focused on his face as she bent down and licked his cock head, curling her tongue around his shaft, then dragging it down the underside. She licked his balls and he lifted, moaned, and sat up, spread his legs.
“Christ, that’s good, Tara.”
She rolled her tongue over the sac, putting each in her mouth, wanting to taste him everywhere before putting his cock in her mouth and drawing his shaft deep inside. She went down on him, letting him watch his cock disappear between her lips. She felt him shudder, loved that she made him weak the way he made her weak when he made love to her, wanted to take him right to the brink and over it. She held on to the base of his shaft and increased the suction as she brought him to the back of her throat, then eased up on the pressure, establishing a rhythm that had him grasping her hair and thrusting into her mouth with swift, hard strokes.
She laid her hand on his thigh and felt the dampness of perspiration, knew he held back, so she swept her hand along his shaft and fluttered her tongue across the soft head.
“Yeah. Oh, yeah. Dammit, that’s going to make me come. I’m going to come in your mouth, Tara.”
She hummed against his shaft, needing him to let her have it all.
He arched into her mouth and groaned, then tightened his hold on her hair as he let go, spurting hot come into her mouth. She held him there, swallowing what he gave her as he rocked against her, his entire body quaking with the force of his orgasm. She finally released his cock when he fell back against the sand.
“Damn,” was all he said.
Tara laid her head on his stomach, listening to the wild beat of his pulse, the upward rise and fall of his breaths while he smoothed his hand over her hair.
She lifted her head and gazed up at him. “Ready to give up your secrets to me?”
He laughed, raised his head. “Secrets? What secrets?”
“Damn you.” She picked up sand and rubbed it in his stomach. He lunged for her, but she screamed, jumped up, and ran, Mick on her heels. She knew she didn’t have a chance, and he was on her in seconds, tossing her to the ground. She squealed with laughter when he tackled her.
“Not fair,” she yelled as he pulled her under him, the top of her dress now around her waist. She didn’t care. “Your profession gives you an advantage.”
“Quit whining.” He grabbed sand and rubbed it between her breasts. She fisted a handful of sand and rubbed it in his hair. By the time they were through rolling around in the wet sand, Tara was convinced there was more of it on them than on the beach.
“Okay, enough,” Mick said, spitting sand out of his mouth.
Tara giggled and Mick pulled her up, threw her over his shoulder, and headed for their bungalow.
He turned on the shower while Tara stripped off her dress. They stepped into the oversized shower together and she laughed as Mick turned around. He had sand on his face, in his hair, and chunks of it hung on various parts of his body.
“Do I look as bad as you do?”
He brushed sand off her shoulders. “Probably.”
They lathered up and washed—rather thoroughly, since sand had gotten everywhere. Tara was thankful for the jets on both sides of the shower, and for the removable shower head, since she ended up with sand in uncomfortable spots of her body.
“Well, that was like a spa treatment,” she said once she’d rinsed the sand out of every possible crevice. “But my skin is utterly smooth now.”
Mick rinsed his face and turned to her. “Is that right? I think I should double-check to make sure you got all the sand out.”
Tara arched a brow, then held her arms out. “Inspect away.”
He turned her around and smoothed his hands over her shoulders and arms, then down her back. “Looks good here. Turn around.”
She did, and he locked his gaze with hers as he swept his fingers through her wet hair, letting his fingertips trail over her nose and across her lips. He bent and brushed his lips across hers. “Tastes sand-free.”
She sighed when he ran his tongue over her lips, slid between her teeth to taste her tongue before pulling away.
“No sand on your tongue.”
She laughed.
Her breath caught when he rolled his thumbs over her breasts, then caught her hips with his hands. “Yes, very smooth here, but I need to take a closer look down here.”
He dropped to his knees. “Spread your legs, honey.”