His breath fanned slowly on my hair, my head tucked under his chin. His hand continued to move in the soft, stroking motion, sliding up and down the swell of my hip and buttock. I looked down at my bare hip, the blankets around our thighs, and gave a small sigh at the sight. “I’m getting bony.”
“You’re beautiful. Always have been.”
My breath caught in my throat at that, warmth flooding through me, and I suddenly wanted him very much again. With gentle fingers, I slid my hand out from where it was tucked against my own body and brushed the taut skin over his abdomen. Inviting him.
Dean’s mouth pressed against my forehead, and he gave me a soft kiss, his lips grazing my hairline before moving lower. His fingers that had been stroking my hip grew possessive, clenching me toward him, and my eyes flew to his when a hot, nak*d erection prodded my stomach through the thin sarong. “You’re not dressed?”
He shook his head at me, a slow, sensuous smile curving his mouth. “You’re hardly dressed yourself.” As if to prove this point, his hand slid up my bare hip, pressing the loose sarong further up my body, exposing my backside. His hand skimmed the curve of my lower back, exploring. “No panties,” he said, leaning in to press another gentle kiss on my face, this time on my eyebrow.
It seemed we’d decided to have a slow, languid mutual exploration of bodies, and I was certainly game for that. My hand slid across his abdomen to his side, to the ridge of hard muscle where his thigh met his groin. Only men in the most incredible shape seemed to have that sort of muscle ridge, and I’d never seen one before on anyone I’d slept with. I was fascinated with his body. “You must work out a lot back home,” I whispered, skimming that fascinating part of his body with my fingernail.
He chuckled at that, burying his face in my hair. “I guess you could say that,” he said, his voice muffled. Before I could ask what was so funny, he kissed my face again, pressing small, light kisses on my cheekbone, my ear, my nose, my chin, before moving to my lips and continuing the same light, fluttery presses that made me tremble. I lay still under his ministrations for several long minutes as he gently kissed every inch of my face, his hand kneading my backside and making my entire body quiver.
When I could stand being still no longer, I lifted my leg and wrapped it around his hips, pulling his body closer to mine. I sought his mouth with my own, my hands moving to his hair and wrapping in the tousled, sleepy cowlicks. Dean made a low, hungry noise in the back of his throat and his tongue met mine in a quick plunge. We kissed, a melding of tongues and lips, slow strokes mixed with fast, quick ones, the taste of him warm on my mouth, his body fitting against my own.
The hand that caressed my backside grew possessive again, and Dean clenched me against him, pulling my h*ps against his hard c*ck and letting me feel the length of it against the cradle of my sex. I whimpered into his mouth at the sensation, and he only groaned harder, moving me onto my back and rolling atop me, his h*ps sliding against my own. His leg nudged between mine, and I suddenly found myself with my legs spread wide underneath him, his c*ck resting against my mound with scorching heat, his mouth devouring my own. Excited by that, I raised my h*ps slightly, bucking against him in a suggestive manner.
“Oh Jeezus, Abby. God help me when you do that,” Dean said hoarsely against my mouth, his hand sliding over my torso frantically.
In response, I swirled my h*ps against his again. “Don’t tell me what to do, Dean. You know I’ll just prove you wrong,” I teased and nipped against his bottom lip.
He groaned again, sliding down my body slightly to rest his head on my sarong-covered stomach. He bit at the fabric, at my flat stomach underneath, and then slid down further, bunching the fabric up around my waist as he went.
“Dean,” I squeaked, shifting as his breath fanned hot on the most intimate part of my body. “Are you sure you want to…” My voice trailed off. I wasn’t used to or*l s*x for me before I went down on my partner. Normally it was the other way around—I’d give out a dozen blowjobs long before my date would ever think of reciprocating. Not to mention, other than the shower last night, I’d been the most unkempt I’d ever been in my life. The urge to cross my legs was strong—but that would have trapped Dean’s shoulders right where he wanted them.
In response to my worries, Dean licked the seam of my thigh, and a full-body, delicious shudder went through me. “You okay, Abby? Do you want me to stop?”
I sure didn’t. My fingers twined in his messy hair and I let my legs slide open bonelessly. “Hell no. Don’t stop.”
Dean chuckled, and the sound whispered across sensitive skin, and I sucked in a breath again. “You want me to keep going?” His thumb moved down my slit, and I bit my lip to keep from gasping. And when I gave him no response to his touch, he moved in. His mouth, hot and wet, found the sensitive bud of my clit, and I was lost. My entire body shuddered with every tongue flick, with every sucking motion, every rasp of his tongue.
Hips bucking in time with the swirl of his mouth, my legs began to tense with the onset of a powerful orgasm, and I panicked and began to pull away, self-conscious. In response to that, Dean locked his hands around me and pushed back, tonguing me so hard I swore I felt it down to my bones. With a gasping cry, I came in his arms, shudders wracking me as he continued to lap at me as if I were his breakfast and he had all the time in the world.
“Oh my god,” I breathed, unable to resist rotating my h*ps with his mouth one more time.
“Call me Dean,” he teased, sliding back up over me and grinning as if he’d just been the one to fall to pieces, not me. His hand smoothed up and down over my hip, sliding into my sarong to tickle the tip of my breast. “Ready for round two, or do you need a breather?”
I gave him a puzzled look. “Why would I need a breather?”
The expression on Dean’s face was downright innocent. “Shanna told me you weren’t in great shape and I—”
My fists flew at him and I laughed, even as he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me toward him. I went easily, linking my arms around his neck and moving in for another deep kiss. I could taste myself on his mouth, a salty tang. “You are the sweetest thing, Abby. Like you were dipped in honey.”
It was a terribly corny line. Sweet, but corny. I still fell for it. With a wicked grin, I gave him a push, indicating he should lie back on the bed. Dean did so, trying to pull me over him, but I wiggled away, pressing my palms on his chest to hold him down. “My turn.” I slid down his body.
Dean froze under me, and I could see the wheels turning in his mind as he went over our conversation, trying to figure out if he’d suggested that I reciprocate on him. “Abby,” he began, then licked his lips, his breath coming out in a little pant. “I didn’t mean… you don’t have to…”
“I know,” I said, sliding down until I straddled his calves. “Now shut up.” I leaned forward, the tips of my br**sts brushing against the hair on his legs. Dean groaned low in his throat, his hand sliding to my hair and twining there. Not pushing my head toward his cock, but a simple gesture of need. It was something I wanted to do, though—I wanted to drive him crazy as much as he’d driven me, and so I knelt over him, letting my hair fall against the thick length of his cock. His skin smelled musky so close to mine, and the scent of it sent a ripple through my body.
I grasped him in my hand, testing his heavy length. Hot and rigid, his c*ck was a sheath of silk over firm muscle, and I leaned over, fascinated, to dip my tongue against the head of it.
Dean groaned loudly, his h*ps jerking.
My, that was encouraging. I smiled at that—what fun. Slowly, languidly, as if I were licking an ice cream, I teased the head of his cock. Small, teasing licks. Deep, sensual licks. Playful, swirling licks. Drops of wetness appeared on the head, and I licked those off as well, then circled my thumb against the tip of his c*ck while I laved up and down the thick length.
His fist in my hair grew tighter as the minutes passed. “Jesus, Abby,” he groaned at one point. “Have mercy.”
“I have none,” I teased, nipping lightly at the thick vein on the underside of his cock. Gently, with my lips and tongue alone. Then, with slow, languid motions, I circled the base of it with my fingers and slid my mouth over the rest of it, taking the length of him deep into my mouth.
“Christ,” he exploded, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me off of him. I laughed until he tossed me underneath him, sliding my h*ps apart, and I thought he was going to plunge into me right then and there, and my breath caught in my throat. But he only pushed me down onto the bed and pressed a kiss to my mouth. “Wait here,” he said against my lips, and I squirmed on the bed, waiting, as he disappeared into the bathroom and returned a moment later with a condom.
And then he was down over my body again and kissing my face and neck as the condom crinkled between our bodies, and I watched him roll it down over his cock. He leaned in for one last kiss before nudging the head of his c*ck against my sex, then sinking in deeply. I sucked in a deep breath even as he growled above me, hands grasping my h*ps sharply as he pulled back and then plunged again.
“Sexy little Abby in her pink bikini,” he said in a low, growly voice even as he thrust again. “Thank god you picked me again. It would have been a real shame—” A hard, rocking thrust— “ if you never showed me that sweet little body of yours.” Another rough thrust, one that made my breath catch in my throat.
I gave him a throaty laugh, my h*ps rising to meet each thrust, legs locked around his waist. “You’re the one… that walked into my shower… remember?”
He grinned at that and gave me another slow, rocking thrust and leaned forward, stretching my legs wide as he leaned in to kiss me. “I surely do,” he drawled, taking my ankle and hooking it behind his neck and thrusting again with that slow, sensuous motion that was going to twist me into one big orgasmic knot. Again he thrust, and again, and my body arched slightly higher with each silken stroke. And when one of his hands that had been gripping my hip slipped free and sought the damp curls of my sex, I moaned his name and dug my fingernails into his shoulder as I came, trembling. After that, Dean seemed to lose all control, thrusting relentlessly into my body until he was racked by shudders as well, a hoarse shout on his lips as he came, collapsing over me.
I pressed a kiss to his scratchy face with its two-week growth of dark blond beard. “Think we can stay here forever?”
He chuckled at that, propping up on his elbows so he didn’t crush me under his weight and brushing a damp lock of hair off of my forehead. “We can’t stay here. If we don’t go back, we don’t win the money.”
Oh yes, the money. I made a face against the warm heat of his chest wall. The money that the producers would make sure that I would not get. The money that was Dean’s driving urge to be here. For some reason, that made me a little sad—the others had seemed greedy and driven, but for some reason I’d held Dean to a different standard. I shrugged my shoulders against his damp body, listening to the racing of his heart as it slowed down. I hadn’t given the money much thought in the past few days—my mind was consumed with the blond god that I shared my beach with.