Doubt, disagreement flash in his eyes, but he slams his mouth to hers anyway.
With frenzied fingers, Solomon peels her sticky swimsuit from her body, emitting a growl that has her toes curling. And then Tessie’s naked, except for her tan lines, and Solomon lunges for her, ferocious. “You’re beautiful,” he grits out. “So damn gorgeous, Tessie. Perfect. Fucking perfect.”
One broad hand grips her hip while the other slides up to cup the heavy swell of her breast. Her head falls back at the sensation. Her entire body’s a tremor. She feels so damn worshipped. Under Solomon’s attentive touch, she feels like a goddess.
Mouth fusing to hers, he backs her up against the bed.
“Get on your knees,” he orders.
Bossy. She loves it.
“Okay,” she breathes and flips herself over on all fours. Peering over her shoulder, she takes him in, riveted, as Solomon strips out of his swim trunks. Finally free of the constricting fabric, his cock surges and comes to life. Tessie savors the sight of the tower of strength that is Solomon Wilder. He’s a wall of chiseled muscle, washboard abs, dark dusting of hair across his chest, colorful tattoos winding themselves around his biceps and forearms.
The thought comes to her sudden and ferocious—this mountain man; he is the only one she will ever want.
No. That’s a horrible thought.
A forever thought.
And then his massive fingers are all over her, toying. Teasing. Running down her curves, smacking her ass, gliding gently through her wet folds. He slips a finger into her, then another, and at the feel of him inside her, she nearly comes undone.
“Solomon.” Eyes shuttering, she trembles at his touch.
Then his hot mouth kisses a trail down her spine, one hand caressing the curve of her belly, and her body goes molten.
This man. He’s going to be the death of her.
“Please, Solomon,” she gasps, lifting her head to plead with him. “I can’t wait anymore. Please.”
His eyes flare at her words.
The bed shifts as he settles his weight behind her. His fingers dig into her curves as he makes sure she’s steady. Then, slowly, he eases into her. Tessie gasps, her body igniting with hot urgency. Her fingers dig into the sheets. She’s so tight and he’s so large and hard, and it’s the most overwhelming sensation. The best sensation. The two of them. Together. Tonight.
She’s faint. Faint from having too much, from this strange, warm fluttery feeling in her chest, from the way their bodies-brains-souls-hearts are hardwired for one another.
“Tell me if I hurt you,” he grits out.
“You won’t. You can’t.”
Together, they rock. Solomon moves in and out as Tessie sinks onto his length, her warmth sucking him in.
Nothing but labored breaths, Solomon’s deep rumble of contentment, fill the sunlit room. Faster and faster, he pumps against her, his giant body covering hers with tenderness and care. A delicious tension creeps over Tessie when he speeds up, pistons his hips forward and thrusts hard.
Her body buzzing, Tessie cries out as Solomon’s hand slips between her legs. His callused thumb sweeps over her clit, making slow, smooth circles. “That good, baby? You tell me what you need.”
“More,” she says on a moan. “More. Oh God. Oh, Solomon. Yes. Right there.”
He drives deeper, no more teasing. The hard rack of his solid wall of muscle a kick-drum against her own fragile form. With a skilled hand, he runs his thumb over her clit and, driving his hips hard, slams into just the right spot to make Tessie scream.
The orgasm kicks her in the teeth at the same time a rumble explodes in Solomon’s chest. Rhythmically, she pulses and squeezes around him, her orgasm a Pantone burst of color, and then she’s gripping the sheet corner, crying out to a God she never appreciated until now, all before going limp.
Before she can collapse, Solomon has her in his arms. Gripping her high around the abdomen, he pulls her down with him in bed. They settle in the cool sheets, their bodies still joined, locked together, burning bright like shooting stars that will never come down.
Solomon strokes a line down the curve of Tessie’s tan arm. Sand in the bed, sand in the sheets, but he doesn’t care. The end of the world couldn’t get him to move right now. Not with Tessie curled up in his arms like an ocean goddess he doesn’t deserve. The thin bedsheets cover the curve of her hip, the swell of her stomach. He can’t tear his damn eyes off her.
“You got some sun,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her pink shoulder, tiny freckles popping on her smooth skin. She tastes like sunscreen and sex. Coconut and salt.
Tessie, naked, pregnant, stirs lazily against him. A swirl of blond hair, a hum of contentment. Then, her voice drowsy, her eyes heavy lidded, she strokes slim fingers over his beard. “Life’s a beach, isn’t it?”
“Shit.” Solomon sits up, jarred by the reason they’re back in the room.
She leans up on her elbow. “What is it?”
“Your foot.”
“It’s fine,” she says, turning to reach for him, but he’s already up and off the bed, cursing himself. The ground thunders as he stomps for the bathroom.
He comes back with a first aid kit. Sits on the edge of the bed and places her foot in his lap. Tessie, propped up on a mound of pillows, looks small and vixen-like, her blond hair swirled up behind her.
“We should have done this first,” he grinds out, swiping her foot with disinfectant. Guilt spears him in the stomach. Shame for taking care of himself before Tessie. She’s hurt, and all he could do was think with his dick.
Tessie sits patiently, both palms on her stomach, her expression one of amused confusion.
As he wraps a bandage around her heel, she wiggles her pink-painted toes. “See? All better.” She tips forward, a teasing smile on her face. “Better than the ice cream guy, for sure.”
Solomon scowls. That guy, with his hands on her stomach, tugging on her arm, had flipped a switch inside him, kicking his protective instincts into overdrive. In that instant, he saw his future in one fell swoop. Or, should he say, Tessie’s. Dating. Passing Bear to another man. Needing someone who isn’t him. A random guy living with his son, seeing him and Tessie every day. The vision is like a fucking knife to the chest.
“Solemn Man.” Tessie’s soft voice floats between them. “Relax.”
He startles, his thoughts clearing as he finds Tessie’s concerned gaze on him. Then, like she knows just how much he needs it, she takes his large hand in hers and rests it against her stomach. “He’s kicking.”
At the feel of his son fluttering in her belly, Solomon unclenches. He doesn’t know when they started doing this, touching each other like it means something, but he likes it. Too damn much for his own good.
“There,” he says, setting aside the first aid kit. He gives her bandaged foot a once-over. “That should do it.”
Tessie tilts her head, the sheet falling away to reveal a flash of pert, pink nipple. “You can cook, you can build, you can wrap a bandage like a pro. What else don’t I know about you?”
He thinks on it. “I have a dog.”
A smile graces her face. “You do?”
“I do.” He settles next to her on the bed, drawing her hand into his. “Peggy Sue. She’s my hound dog. I got her after—” He pauses and clears his throat. “After my wife died.”