Home > Knight & Day (Knight #3)(33)

Knight & Day (Knight #3)(33)
Author: Kitty French

The sun was starting to set as Dylan killed the engine on the Mustang, this time somewhere without any other cars in sight.

“This better?” He turned to Kara, who was looking out over the beautiful scene laid before her. They’d wound their way through a pine forest to a tiny, deserted beach. Dylan had parked the car on the fringes of the sand, and right in front of them the huge sun tracked low in the sky, casting long, peachy bands of shadow across the sea towards them.

“Better than that. It’s perfect.”

“I thought you’d like it.” There was the tiniest suggestion of smugness in his voice.

Kara slanted her eyes at him, her eyebrows raised.

“You think you know me pretty well, huh?”

“I’m enjoying getting to know you better every day, English,” Dylan said softly. With a slight change of tone, he added, “So, shall we walk for a while?”

“Or I could just climb into the back?” Kara was finding it hard to think about anything else right now.

“You could. There’s something I want to do first though.” He got out, coming around to open her door.

Kara gave in gracefully, swinging herself out of the car. “This better be good.”

Dylan took her hand and led her towards the trees. “We need to gather firewood.”

“Firewood?”

He nodded. “I’m gonna build us a campfire.”

“Are we playing Scouts and stuff?”’ Kara said. “’Cause I have to tell you here and now, I was thrown out of the Girl Guides.”

Dylan laughed, bending to gather sticks. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“Fraternising with the Scouts was frowned on, apparently.”

Dylan whistled low. “You’ve got me almost wishing I’d joined the Scouts, back then.”

“So why didn’t you?”

He sighed, and Kara felt his melancholy despite the fact that he wasn’t looking her way. “I guess we just weren’t a Scouting kind of family.”

She grinned when he turned towards her, anxious to restore his good humour.

“Thank God for that. You don’t learn to kiss the way you do by being a good boy.”

She stood on tiptoe to meet his mouth, his arms full of wood.

“Time to go back to the car yet?” she murmured when he let her up for air a few minutes later.

He placed the logs in her arms. “Soon. Go dump this on the beach. I’ll be there in a sec.”

Kara frowned, resigned. “You’re not expecting me to sing Kum Ba Yah or anything, are you?”

“Sing what? No.” He dropped his voice. “I’m expecting you to let me make you come by firelight.”

She was suddenly hot all over and completely on board with the fire idea. The Mustang plan had been a great one, but sex by firelight was compelling enough for her to set it aside, for the moment at least.

“Okay. So, go gather wood, Sailor. Quickly.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

When Dylan strolled out of the treeline five minutes later, it was all he could do not to drop all the wood he’d gathered.

Kara was naked. Stark naked, standing waiting for him with her hands on her hips, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders. The setting sun dappled her skin, turning her ethereal.

He walked closer, bending to lower the wood onto the sand.

“I always had a thing for mermaids,” he said, reaching for the hem of his T-shirt and dragging it off over his head. “So very lovely,” he murmured appreciatively, walking around her. “I used to wonder how they had sex.” He ran his hand around her waist and pulled her back against his body, nestling himself against the softness of her backside, enjoying her soft intake of breath.

“Everyone knows our tails turn into legs on shore,” she said, leaning her head back onto his shoulder.

Dylan moved one hand up to cover Kara’s breast, and slid his other hand down to run the tip of his finger slowly into the crevice between her legs.

“You’re definitely all woman right now,” he said. Her nipple strained hard in his fingers as she stepped her feet wider apart on the sand to let him touch her more intimately.

“Make a really thorough check,” she whispered, arching an arm up around his neck, her nails raking the skin at his nape.

Dylan squeezed her breast, kneading her flesh in his hand. “All in order here,” he whispered. “Beautiful. Warm. Soft.” He punctuated each observation with a rock of his hips.

“And here?” she said, covering his hand between her legs with her own.

Dylan groaned against her ear. “I think I need to investigate a little more.”

He cupped her in his hand, enjoying the warmth of her palm holding him against her. She closed her eyes, and he watched her face in the dwindling twilight. How could she look so fragile and yet so powerful at the same time?

She trusted him. She told him so with her body, and he found himself needing to swallow hard as his fingers moved inside her folds. She moved him in a way no woman ever had before. Everything about her was honest, and each day was better because she was in it.

He kissed the corner of her mouth when she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, waiting for him to touch her where she needed to be touched. She looked caught somewhere between pain and pleasure, surrendered, womanly.

He ran his free hand up her body and laid his forearm along the curve of her neck, his hand massaging the back of her skull. He kissed her because his mouth needed hers, deep, wide open kisses, as close as he could get. His tongue stroked inside her mouth as he spread her wide and exposed her clitoris, both of their hands on her.

Her fingers slid between his and he was suddenly hyper-aware of every sensation.

Her body was so ready for him. Slick.

Her head moved against his shoulder. Restless.

Her back was warm against his chest. Pressed.

Her hips undulated into his erection, massaging him. Hard.

She was right on the edge of her orgasm. Shimmering.

He built her up. Steady.

And then, at the very second he knew she couldn’t take any more preamble, he pulled her hard against him and fingered her clitoris fully, giving her everything he had in an erotic onslaught. His mouth. His hands. His thrusts. His tongue. His moans.

She reacted instantaneously, her body shaking and juddering as her orgasm hit her hard. Jesus, she was beautiful. Abandoned. Totally fucking breath-taking.

“Well?” Her voice shook when her eyes flickered open some seconds later, heavy-lidded with satisfaction. “Woman, or mermaid?”

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