Summer Beach Reads. Natalie Anderson

that was when she saw the sheen of sweat on him—the film of heat that hadn’t been there even after he’d lugged her up the mountain for five minutes. No, this sign of tension in him was new. And empowering. ‘Only if you do the same for me.’

      His wickedness flashed. ‘You want me to strip for you?’

      ‘Oh, yes.’ She undid the last buttons and let her shirt fall. ‘I go no further until you’ve matched me.’

      She hadn’t even blinked before that ‘Lucky’ tee shirt was whisked over his head and on the floor already. He unfastened his jeans. To her delight, he didn’t take his briefs down with the denim. They were the close-fitting knit boxer type. They fitted him well.

      ‘This is all for you, Ellie.’ He knew exactly where she was looking.

      ‘You and your size thing,’ she mumbled.

      ‘I’m not the one with body-conscious issues,’ he taunted softly. ‘But trust me,’ he said. ‘Look at me. Look at what you do to me. I want you so much it hurts.’

      And she wanted it all.

      ‘So now it’s your turn,’ he said.

      She slipped out of her jeans, taking her socks off—but, like him, leaving that last layer.

      ‘Lace.’ He nodded. ‘Like your slip that night.’ His gaze roved over her. ‘You like the feel of it?’

      ‘I like the feel of you.’ She stepped towards him.

      ‘Uh-uh.’ He shook his head and backed a pace. ‘It’s not going to be quick this time.’

      She needed it to be. She wanted that orgasm so badly. She licked her lower lip, so hot, so ready. So wanting. And given the pressure the front of his briefs was under, he was too. And so she went to the bed, removing her bra in the two paces it took to get there. She slipped off her knickers and stretched out on the mattress. Daring him to deny her now.

      His grin disappeared for a moment as he watched her recline. Good, it was about time he felt as bothered as she was. Only then, to her surprise, his smile came back—more wicked than ever. He leaned over and took her hand, pulling her to sit up.

      ‘Are you sure you don’t want to star in a movie, Ellie?’ he asked quietly.

      ‘What?’ Why wouldn’t he just hurry up and lie down with her?

      ‘Look at the window.’ His voice a wicked tease, an invitation to decadence.

      The night sky was now black—the moon had waned to the thinnest of crescents that threw little light. The stars not bright enough to fight back against the glow of the lantern in their room. So the window reflected the scene within—it had become a mirror.

      ‘No one can see us. There isn’t anyone for miles,’ he said between teasing kisses everywhere on her face but her mouth. ‘But we can see us. You can see us. You can watch.’ He stepped in front of her, turned his back to the window and dropped to his knees.

      She put her hand to her mouth when she saw what he meant. The clarity of their images. She was transfixed.

      ‘Life-size screen,’ he muttered, pressing a kiss to her throat.

      He had to feel how her heart was racing. ‘Ruben...’

      ‘The lantern stays on,’ he said firmly. ‘The lantern stays on all night.’ It was a decree. ‘I want you to know it’s me.’

      That stabbed. ‘I know that already.’

      ‘All night,’ he reiterated firmly. And then he kissed lower—down her neck, across her collarbones.

      And she watched. Excitement liquefied her bones. Her body went as lax as a doll—his to toy with. Oh, yeah, she was starring in her own blue movie.

      She licked her dried lips. ‘I’ve never watched this kind of movie before.’

      ‘Time you did.’ He reached her breasts. ‘But only with me.’

      ‘Ellie Summers, porn star.’

      ‘Ellie Summers, ultimate temptation.’ He thumbed her taut nipple and looked up at her sceptical expression. ‘You don’t believe me?’

      ‘I think you’re quite good at saying nice things.’

      ‘I’m quite good at doing nice things too. Things that feel nice.’ He returned to task.

      ‘Oh, my,’ she breathed.

      ‘You’ve never watched a woman be pleasured?’

      ‘You’re wicked.’ Heat flushed through her.

      ‘Watch while I do that for you,’ he muttered.

      ‘Oh.’

      She’d never been very visual when it came to sex. She liked it in the dark, under the covers, the wobbly bits mostly out of the way. But the temperature in here was scorching—there was no way she wanted a sheet on her. And seeing a guy this built, on his knees in front of her. Yeah, that played to her hitherto unknown inner exhibitionist. She liked it. She liked what he was doing even more.

      He cradled her breasts in his hands as if they were treasures he’d spent centuries searching for. His hands stroked down her sides, his palms flat, his reach broad and sure. He held her hips still as he bent forward to kiss her—from breast to breast, down her sternum. She lifted her hands, ran her fingers through his hair—so simple, but it was what she desired most. His kisses made her tummy tauten. His grip on her hips firmed as she unconsciously began to rock nearer him.

      His smile was pleased. ‘Getting warmer?’

      She shook her head. ‘Need more.’

      She watched him tending to her, drank in the play of muscles across his broad back. His body was beautiful—big in the right places, but lean so that definition could be seen. His butt taut, muscles clenching as he thrust his hips slightly in time to his nips and kisses on her breasts. Oh he was gorgeous. He reached to cup her other breast as his tongue lashed her nipple. She felt like a prized lover, in the care of masculine perfection. She lifted her gaze and looked at her own face. The flush in her cheeks, the heavy-lidded darkness of her eyes. The full-lipped smile, her skin grazed by his stubbled jaw. She looked the picture of hedonism. And he was her expert, demanding slave.

      ‘You know I’ll do anything you want.’ He paused to look up at her.

      Oh, yeah, captive lover. Her lungs were drawing in pure fire. ‘Everything.’ And now, because she was almost there already.

      She put her hands on the top of her thighs, rubbing hard—applying pressure herself to try to ease the ache there. The desperate need for the pleasure of his weight, his invasion. His eyes glowed, tracking the slow, strong slide of her fingers. He put his hands over hers, spread her legs further, wider for him.

      ‘Impatient, aren’t you?’ he murmured, his breath teasing her as he moved closer.

      But to her infinite relief and exquisite torture, he bent his head and licked her there. A slow, lush taste.

      She cried out, tightening her fingers on herself, hovering. ‘Ruben.’

      He lifted his head the merest fraction. ‘Say—’ a slide of his finger ‘—my name again.’

      ‘Ruben,’ she whispered.

      He blew a shot of warm tormenting air above, while working his fingers inside. ‘Say it again.’

      ‘Ruben,’ she pleaded, her body constricting.

      His expression darkened. ‘Scream it.’ He bent forward and feasted.

      She shrieked his name to the sky.

      His hands remained hard on her thighs, mercilessly keeping her still for him, so he could continue applying his own brand of ecstatic torment. His tongue thrust deep, just as she wanted his erection to, or his