Hell or High Water (Deep Six #1)(71)

And ain’t that the truth. Right now, her treasure was the man loving her so well, with so much dedication and passion.

“You taste amazin’,” he growled. Then he proved he wasn’t lying by vigorously feasting on her like a condemned man devouring his last meal. Her breasts felt heavy, hot. Their tips ached with arousal and thrummed with the pleasure his mouth and teeth and tongue had forced on them. Her clitoris began to buzz, sending tendrils of sensation radiating outward toward her extremities. She would swear she could feel the pleasure throbbing in her toes, her fingertips. The hot coil of delectation wound tighter and tighter. Almost there. Almost there. In fact, if he would just—

It was like he was reading her mind, because he inserted one long finger inside her. It was nearly enough. She clenched her inner muscles around him and his groan of approval resonated through her. “Leo…” She moaned his name again when he inserted a second digit. He pumped into her once. Twice. Seating himself to the last knuckle each time. His fingers curled slightly in a come-hither motion, and the rough pads of his fingertips caressed her in just. The. Right. Spot.

She fisted her fingers in his hair, anchoring herself to him as she rode his hand and mouth, as she was flung over the edge and into the dark chasm of physical release. A kaleidoscope of colors exploded behind her lids. Waves upon waves of pleasure rushed over her, through her, until she was reduced to nothing but a mass of pulsing delight.

She whispered something—his name, maybe?—over and over again, her head limp on her neck, her hands falling listlessly to her sides. He kissed the inside of her quivering thigh before gently lowering her leg and standing. It was a good thing the cabinet was at her back, supporting her, because she was completely boneless. Nothing but a soft, gooey thing in the aftermath of his lovemaking.

He kissed her exposed throat, sucking on her hammering pulse-point, growling at the feel of her racing heart against his tongue. She didn’t open her eyes. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to see anything even if she did. Cloudbursts of colors were still painting themselves on the backs of her lids.

She licked her lips, smiling. Languid with release, yet yearning for more. “Your turn,” she promised, panting. “Just as soon as I catch my breath.”

His deep chuckle rumbled through her chest, knocking against her heart. “You are,” he told her, sucking her earlobe into the wet, hot wonder of his mouth and keeping her blood running wild, “hands down, the sexiest woman on the planet. And I intend to—”

Whatever he intended to do or say was cut off when a series of pounding steps echoed from the stairs leading down from the living quarters. “Sorry to interrupt! Again!” Bran’s deep voice rolled into the galley.

Leo growled. A sound of murderous frustration if ever there was one. “I’m seriously goin’ to kill him this time.”

Olivia opened her eyes to find color riding high on his cheekbones. His eyes were dark with unfulfilled passion. Oh, how she wanted to fulfill that passion, feel him pulse deep inside her, see his jaw clench and his eyes sparkle as he found his own release. “I’ll help,” she groused as she pulled up her bra, yanked down her tank top, and bent to retrieve her panties and shorts.

Holy shit, I’m dizzy. All the blood in her body was still circulating around her happy bits. She had to blink and shake her head, trying to jog her brain and body out of let’s-get-it-on mode and back into business mode. Easier said than done. Especially with Leo standing so close. The length of his hard-on was a massive wedge beneath his wet suit.

“Give us a second, will you?” Leo called, turning to make sure she was decent. When her fingers fumbled on the button of her shorts, he gently brushed them away, doing up the fastening himself. A small smile played around the edges of his mouth. That brilliant, brilliant mouth.

“You’re pretty pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” she asked.

He lifted a brow. “Shouldn’t I be?”

“Sh’yeaaah.”

Now he was grinning in earnest. Men. They give a woman an orgasm, and it’s like they think they split the atom.

“Admit the thundering herd,” he called toward the door after she’d smoothed her hair as best she could. There was no hope for the beard burn she knew pinkened her cheeks, or the flush of the skin over her chest that was the telltale sign of her recent orgasm. She’d been caught getting busy with Leo. Yet again. His men must think her the easiest woman on the planet. And the truth? When it came to Leo, she absolutely was.

“We found it,” Bran said from the doorway, taking in the scene with a leering smirk. “The tangos’ sunken vessel. We’ve dropped anchor and a location buoy.”

Leo sighed heavily and turned toward her. She wasn’t prepared for the hand he wrapped around the back of her neck. Neither was she prepared for the deep, wet kiss he pressed on her mouth. Instantly her knees were weak…uh…weaker, her womb humming, her head spinning. Then he broke the seal of their lips and leaned his forehead against hers. “To be continued?” he asked, his words as slow and sweet as molasses.

“You bet your ass,” she told him, smiling.

“We do seem to have the same conversations over and over again, don’t we?” The question was purely rhetorical, because he released her to turn back to the two men standing by the door. And talk about a couple of voyeurs.