You Were Mine (Rosemary Beach #9)(17)

I managed a nod this time.

He dropped his head, buried his face in the curve of my neck, and muttered a curse. The warmth of his breath caused me to shiver, and I stepped closer to him. “You’re so beautiful. It hurts to look at you and not touch you,” he said against my neck, then placed a kiss there. “I’ve tried to fight this. I just want to keep you safe. Even from me,” he said again as his mouth moved to kiss my jawline.

I didn’t want to be protected from him. Ever. “I don’t want to be safe from you,” I said. Before I could lose the nerve, I reached up and untied my bikini top and took a breath as we both froze. It would fall down and expose me the moment one of us moved. I wanted his hands on me. I wasn’t scared of Tripp. I was in love with him.

Tripp moved first, and I closed my eyes as the top of my swimsuit fell down, leaving the breeze to dance across my bare breasts.

“Holy f*ck,” Tripp whispered with awe in his voice, which made my nipples tighten up and the tingle between my legs ignite again.

It felt like forever before his large, warm hands covered me. The feel of his palm against me made me cry out his name as I reached to grab hold of his arms. I wasn’t sure I could remain standing if he did much more.

He ran his thumbs over my tender area. My legs wobbled, and I held on tighter, gripping his hands. “Look at me, Bethy,” he said in a hoarse whisper. I forced my eyes open, knowing he was going to see everything I was feeling reflected in them. I wasn’t able to hide my feelings for him anymore. Not like this.

His hands moved from my breasts. I started to protest before I could stop myself, but he pulled me against him as he reached around and undid the back of my suit so that my top no longer hung there but fell to the sand below. Then his hands were back on me, holding the weight of my breasts as he looked at them with reverence. I trembled, and his eyes looked back up at me.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Yes,” I breathed out. The desperate sound in my voice should have been embarrassing, but it wasn’t. Not when he was looking at me like that.

He lowered his head and covered my mouth with his again. The minty taste of him made my knees weak. I grabbed his arms again, and a growl came from his chest before he pulled back and then took me down to the blanket with him. “Straddle me again,” he said, moving me over his lap. I was careful not to sink down onto him again. I didn’t want to end this. But he grabbed my hips and pushed me down until my center was tightly pressed against his hardness. “Fuck,” he groaned, and I realized it felt good to him, too. I’d thought he had stopped earlier because he didn’t like it.

I was relieved, because this friction felt better than anything we’d done so far. I relaxed into his lap. Tripp kissed my mouth again, but then his mouth was moving down my neck, his lips brushing across my collarbone. My breasts were aching so badly. Seeing his mouth so close was too much.

Before I could break down and whimper, his mouth moved lower, and he pressed a kiss to one of my puckered nipples before pulling it into his hot mouth. The sensation that followed sent a string of fireworks off in my body. I grabbed his head and held him there. This was heaven, and I didn’t want him to stop. Ever.

His teeth teased me, and then he sucked harder. I chanted his name, holding his head against me. When he moved to the other breast, I whimpered in relief. This was amazing. His hips moved under me, and the other part of my body woke up again. The tingling in my breasts was joined with the one between my legs. I rocked against him, and he groaned as he continued to lavish my breasts with attention.

I took that as a good thing and began rocking on him again. With each rub of his hardness against me, I became more crazed. There was something there that I needed. “Tripp,” I panted, not sure what it was I was trying to achieve, though I knew I wanted it.

He lifted his head from my chest and claimed my mouth again. I threw all my hunger into the kiss, wanting him as close to me as possible. He pulled back for a second and jerked his shirt over his head before returning to our kiss. My wet, sensitive nipples were pressed up against his chest, and I wanted to weep with joy.

I needed him closer. I rubbed against him harder, and my breathing became erratic. I had to get there. I couldn’t control myself. There was a need inside me taking over everything else.

Then Tripp’s hand slipped inside my bikini bottoms, and I stopped moving and sucked in a breath. He was going to touch me. There. Oh, God.

“Trust me,” he said again, as if reminding me.

I nodded, but I didn’t breathe. When his finger slid along my folds, my entire body jerked in response. “Oh, God!” I cried out, unable to contain myself.

“Shhh. Easy, baby. I got you,” he said in my ear as he held me against him. His breathing was heavy and as fast as mine. “You’re soaking wet,” he said as his finger slid easily along me, because he was right: I was wet.

I ducked my head, suddenly embarrassed. Was I supposed to be wet? Was he grossed out?

“Bethy, sweetheart, look at me,” he said, using his free hand to tilt my chin up. I forced myself to do as he asked, and the heat in his eyes made my breath catch.

“The fact that you’re wet for me is so sexy. It means you want me as much as I want you, and nothing could ever be sweeter than that. Ever,” he said, then slipped a finger inside me.

At that moment, I would believe anything he said. “I want to taste you, here,” he said, sliding his finger back out of me. I had heard about that. I knew people did it, but I wasn’t sure why. “Can I taste you? Will you let me?” he asked, his voice strained. I wanted him to enjoy this as much as I was. If he wanted to taste me, then I’d let him.