She laughed, and she tucked her face back into his neck and breathed in his scent. He smelled of sand today. Ocean. And underneath all that, she could distinguish him. His unique scent was an aphrodisiac. God, he made her wet all day.
“Peyton Lane,” he whispered one more time, edging his head back so he could look at her. And oh, how she loved his smile. But she also loved when he looked at her so intently. “It’s so damned beautiful—almost as beautiful as you are.”
He traced her smile with his thumb, and his gaze tracked the move.
“I imagine you must say that very often,” she teased. “To all of your lady friends.”
His expression turned bleak as he lifted one lone eyebrow. He studied her for a moment in silence, and the manner in which he did made her heart beat faster. “What if I do?”
Her smile faded under his piercing, questioning blue eyes. She shook her head. “Look, we both know this is just…I don’t really care about that, Luke. I know you have a life waiting for you, and so do I.”
Although he was a bit of a lazy boy, she realized that he moved swiftly when he wanted to, and in a flash of a second, Luke was on top of her, his body pinning hers down on the hammock. “You sound like you mean business, Miss Lane.”
She melted under the incandescence of his regard. “I always mean business.”
“Then, allow me to get this straight…” He dragged his eyes meaningfully to her bare breasts, then gradually upward again, turning every inch of skin he covered on fire. “I have thirty-six hours and forty-five minutes of your body at my complete and utter mercy…to fuck you any way I want…and make you come as many times as I please…and all this without getting a kick in the balls afterwards or a fucking knife through the base of my cock?”
His eyes danced in silent laughter, and though he made Peyton laugh, too, the thought of being so completely taken advantage of triggered a delicate shiver down her spine. “Yes! That’s what I mean.”
“Then I’d better not waste any more time.” He bent down to bury his face in her neck, and his hands threaded up to her armpits only to tickle her. When Peyton screeched in surprise and squirmed, he laughed in victory and tickled with even more force, ruthlessly, showing no mercy. “Better get down to business.”
“No, stop, Luke, please!” She kicked and flailed at him, her stomach tight in the effort as she laughed out loud.
“Ouch.” He winced and covered his chest for a moment, his face pained.
“Are you okay?”
He recovered quickly. His deep scowl was deceptive, for there was a tilt to his lips that suggested he was holding back a smile. “Now you’re really asking for it.” He tickled her with more force.
“No, really, Luke, are you all right, are you hurt?”
He sighed and dropped back. “I got a bruise in my chest which is still a bit tender.”
Peyton fingered the patch. “How’d you get it?”
His face and the way he sealed his lips shut told her he was not going to confess. Peyton gave him a seductive glance and slowly ran two restless fingers up his chest. “Doing something heroic, saving a victim from drowning?”
“Right,” he said, rolling his eyes. “A Walking Miracle, they call me.”
She smiled wide. “Really?”
“No, I just like calling myself that.” He dove his fingers under her arms and tickled her some more, and this time she could hardly speak through her laughter.
“Luke, no, please!”
“Please what?” His voice dropped to a murmur, and his big hands slid from her ribs to cradle her breasts, his lips a hairbreadth from her hers. Smiling, she linked her hands behind his neck at the same time that his thumbs slowly caressed the tips of her breasts. “Please what, Peyton?” he insisted, his eyes darkening. She turned somber, and her voice throbbed with aching desire, her sex clenching with need.
“Please,” she breathed.
“Anything you want,” he whispered, and his lips slowly closed down on hers.
The kiss was languorous but exquisitely powerful, the strokes of his tongue like molten lava warming all of her extremities. The hammock swung to and fro as Luke shifted his weight and slid a hand up her bare legs.
“I love it that you’re ready for me before I even start playing with you.” His murmur was almost drowned out by the sea nearby, and when Peyton nodded breathlessly, he groaned and dipped his head so that his tongue worked hers again and his fingers found her just like he said. Super wet. Super ready.
Her womb rippled in drenched heat by the time he cupped her with his large, dry hand, and he growled in male delight and deepened his kiss as he inserted one long finger inside her.
She cried out and lifted her hips, biting his lower lip, and he obliged her silent pleas by inserting a second finger. “That what you want? Huh? Hmm, baby?” His whisper caressed the skin of her lips and travelled down her spine, soft like cotton, causing a slow melting in her bones.
“Please,” she breathed, clutching him closer.
His body crowded hers, and his skin was hot and smooth against every part that it touched hers. The front of his rigid thighs brushed against hers. His abdomen felt flush against the side of her hips and waist. And that rigid, long part of him throbbed in brutal pulses against her hipbone.
Almost violently, he sucked one of her breast tips and then lifted his head to watch her with an expression of pure animal hunger. “I’m obsessed with the way you feel when I’m inside you, Peyton. So tight and soaked as a river.”
He twisted both of his fingers inside her to prove his point, and his eyes blazed blue fire. “Do you want me here?”
Her pussy eagerly contracted—flaming in a painful burn—stimulated by the gentle caresses on her vaginal walls. “Yes, please, are you going to fuck me again?”
“Oh, baby, you bet.”
“Luke.” With every hot suckle he took from her breasts, a tremor rushed through her body. Another wanton shudder coursed through her as he screwed a third finger inside her. He scraped inside her channel until she twisted helplessly under him, the pleasure piercing her in half. “Luke, please, I want you inside me.”
“You do, do you now.” He carried his fingers, creamed from her sex, into his mouth. She watched, breathless, as he lapped up her juices like she was the most delicious morsel he’d ever tasted. “Good things come to those who wait, Miss Lane.”