Chapter Seventeen

Becca

Hale effortlessly carries me in a straddle, yanking a blanket from the family room before racing us outside. I can’t stop kissing him or keep my hands from sliding all over his bare chest. He curses when I give his ear a teasing flick, banging the sliding glass door a few times before he manages to shut it.

I want to laugh and squeal with happiness. Kiss him until my lips bruise from the effort. He loves me. The man my life was empty without loves me!

We’re alone. The only sound, the gentle ocean waves beating against the sand and the squawks and chirps of birds soaring across the bright blue sky. So, instead of delighted squeals and simple kisses of affection, it’s time for us to share more.

He groans when I rub against him, clumsily flapping the large blanket to lay across the sand. It’s a gorgeous day, warm, the small lingering clouds no match for bright sun. It’s too early in the year for tourists, but it’s perfect weather for locals to wander and fish. It doesn’t matter to me and I don’t think it matters to Hale. Between the dunes and the vegetation, we’re well hidden should someone pass, and I’m done being shy.

He lowers us to the blanket onto our knees, placing me somewhere in the center. I yank down his sweats. He’s not wearing underwear. That’s good. It would only get in the way.

I reach for his long, thick shaft. He’s fully hard, the tip rigid and throbbing. I take my time, playing, starting at the base and stroking him from base to the tip, my grip tight and slow.

His fingers thread through my hair, kissing me, his breath hitching the more I tease him.

I lost my shoes somewhere between the house and here. The tops of my feet slide across the fleece blanket as I remove his pants completely. I watch him as I lower myself and take my first taste of his hardness. My tongue swirls, moistening the tip several times before my wide mouth descends down his length.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he rasps.

I didn’t think he could become more aroused. But the deeper I take him, the more he proves me wrong. He fists my hair to better see me, gasping and cursing when he passes the back of my throat.

I’m more than happy to finish him this way, the surge of his lust accelerating mine. Hale has other plans. He lifts the skirt of my dress, ridding me of my panties and spinning me in the air. His swiftness and agility catches me by surprise, as does the care he uses so he doesn’t hurt me.

He lands on his back with me on top of him, my knees on either side of his head. He shoves my skirt away, yanking my hips down toward eager lips. I hiss every cuss word I know through my teeth when he suckles, pulling off my dress and partially tearing the fabric in my haste to remove it.

I strip out of my bra, carelessly tossing it away. I reach for Hale’s erection, wanting to get back to his needs, but barely able to do more than stroke him. I whimper, my wanton needs turning my brain to mush and urging me to rock my pelvis.

My back arches, exposing my taut nipples to the sun and the sky above. Heat and sunlight beat against my breasts, their heavy weight slapping against my skin the faster I move.

My orgasm builds in a rush I’m not prepared for, crashing harder than hail over granite. I fall forward, unable to stop my thighs from quivering or my pelvis from tilting up and down. Deep moans thunder through Hale’s generous lips when I take him into my mouth again and create a firm seal. I meant to take things slow, to find out what he likes. But like me, once we started, neither of us could do anything slow.

I just finish my next orgasm when he flips me once more, placing me on my side with his chest pressed against my back. I crane my neck, trying to see Hale. He cups my jaw, holding me in place as he kisses me.

It should be a sexy, aggressive kiss, seeing what we just did to each other. But somehow Hale keeps it tender, the love he feels for me warming my heart with each gentle pass. “I love you, Becca,” he says.

“I love you, too.” I almost say, I love you more. Only because he can’t imagine how much I’ve waited for him.

His tongue drags down the curve of my neck. “Are you ready for me?” he murmurs.

I shudder when he slides the tip of his rigid staff between my legs. “I’ve been waiting for you for years,” I confess.

Hale slips his hand away from my face. My head sags from the weight of my anticipation. He reaches between us, positioning himself so he can push inside me.

I expect him to get down to business. He is a man, after all. Instead, he kisses me, his other hand tucking under me to play with my breasts, rolling and pulling the tight centers, making me whimper and sky-rocketing my desire.

Hale is well-endowed and I haven’t had sex in many years. It takes him a while, every upswing of his hips pushing each inch of him inside of me. I’m almost crying with how good it feels, but when he starts, no tears come. Those groans and screams he craved from me begin.

I’m no longer that professional I work hard to be. I’m no longer me at all. The woman who takes one methodical step at a time to get the job done has disappeared and I bid her good riddance. I’m done being lonely and going without Hale’s touch. What’s remains is a crazed woman whose lover is more than happy to oblige her.

Hale lifts my leg, hooking it over his neck, watching me as he thrusts hard. He morphs from gentle lover to voracious male bent on pleasing me. He attacks with each ram of his hips, his greedy hands and lips capturing every part of my body.

I don’t own my body anymore. It belongs to him just as his body is now mine. I bear down, meeting each excited slap of skin with one of my own.

I’m losing my mind. But my heart, that’s something I lost to him a long time ago. I can’t slow down. Our rhythm is outrageously fast.

Hale grunts, biting out my name, telling me how good it fucking feels. He’s close. I can sense it.

Instead of allowing himself to finish, he flips me onto my back, sending a stream of sand into the air and onto our bodies. He folds my legs so they rest over his shoulders, my heels drifting over his back. His thumb rubs my throbbing center.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he asks, his eyes glazed with desire.

I shake my head, out of breath with how turned on I am.

“Let me show you,” he says.

He doesn’t quite finish talking before he circles the center of my delicate flesh, electrifying me and sending jolts shooting out toward my thighs. I reach for my breasts and pinch my protruding nipples. I’ve never been this exposed or enlivened. But Hale is experienced. He’s proving his prowess and I don’t want him to stop.

I see his eyes. How he watches me as his hips continue to pound. Primal moans escape my mouth, my whimpering and grunts of bliss begging him to go harder and ram faster.

I orgasm at least twice, my body convulsing, my feet kicking out wildly as the wind picks up and the waves sing their sweet lullaby.

Another orgasm begins when Hale hauls me up, pulling me forward for another long kiss. My legs fall on either side of his. I move quickly, not yet ready to stop.

“It feels so good,” I choke out, my voice trembling.

“Hell, yeah, it does,” he assures me, gripping my hips and helping me to go harder. Sweat drizzles down his chest, slicking my breasts when our skin connects. His heady stare latches on mine. “Jesus, Becca, you’re so damn beautiful.”

My breasts lift and fall with each drag of my hips. “I want you so much, Hale.”

He places me back on the blanket, thrusting wildly and filling me. We’re loud as we reach the end, our mouths and lips seeking more of each other, and our voices crying out with pleasure. God help me, I could give a damn.

Hale falls back on his knees, clasping my ankles and spreading them in a “V.” The cords of his neck strain and his teeth clamp. He comes, brutally, like a beast that was caged for too long.

I haul him on top of me as he finishes, kissing him until his movements slow and he stops.

The sun intensifies as he lowers himself beside me. He kisses my palm when I stroke the scruff along his jaw, his irises reflecting the joy I feel. “I’m never letting you go,” he rasps. “You and me, we’re infinite.”

I smile, unable to stop my eyes from blurring. “We always have been, Hale.”

I position myself across his chest, trying not to think about all those wasted years.

Hale kisses me, longingly and sweetly. It doesn’t take long for our kiss and touches to turn to more. He pulls me on top of him, my spine bowing as I move and bounce my hips.

Hale encourages me to go faster, his hands on my backside, grazing my nipples with his teeth between sucks and seductive licks.

We’re outside a few hours and spend several more in our bed.

We are infinite. We are in love.

But life isn’t perfect. We’re reminded of such in the coming weeks and in all the worst ways possible.