Love, Art, and Murder – Mystery Romance - Page 77

A red tint rushed over her cheeks. “Thank you.”

Inch by inch, I pulled her dress down. The soaked material dragged away from her skin. The more the dress revealed, the more she backed up and moved deeper into the water. We were far away from the shoreline. Waves reached over her shoulders and the middle of my chest.

“You don’t want me to see your body?” I whispered. In the water, I continued to pull the dress down her hips and glide my fingertips along the edge of her panty line.

She gasped at the touch. “I don’t want anyone else to see me. I know it sounds so weird, since I’ve been on thousands of paintings in the nude, but when it is an intimate moment like this, I get nervous.”

Still gripping her dress, I tugged Elle forward. “No one’s around. Our guards cleared this part of the beach.”

“Can they do that?”

“You see how big they are? Would you argue with them?”

“No.”

“Don’t ever be nervous with me.”

The dress fell to the ocean floor. She pulled off her bra and stepped out of her panties, not caring where those undergarments would float away to. I couldn’t care less, either. If necessary, we could have the guards buy some clothes while we swam in the water. All I understood was that I yearned to be next to, inside, and against her. I longed to consume and make her mine in any way possible.

“Mi amor, un día vas a ser mi esposa.” I brought her into my arms. Her hard nipples pressed against my chest. Her heartbeat boomed so fast and loud I could feel and hear it all around me.

“That’s not fair,” she whispered.

Battling with myself to take my time, I explored her body with my hands. “What’s not fair?”

She bit her lips and groaned, “You’re saying things I don’t understand. Although, I must admit those words sound so sexy coming out of your mouth.”

“A continuación, voy a hablar en español cuando hago el amor.” I lifted her up and she wrapped those long legs around my waist. My length rested under her and begged me to push it inside of her, but I ignored his pleas.

“Stop that.” She laid her arms on my shoulders. “Tell me what you’re saying.”

“Which time?”

“Both.”

“Promise me you won’t run off in fear.”

“I won’t,” she promised.

“The first thing I said was. . . my love, I’ll make you my wife.”

She parted her lips.

“No running.”

“I-I’m not.” She trembled in my arms.

What’s on your mind, mi amor?

“The second thing I said was. . . that I would speak Spanish the whole time I make love to you.” I heard her intake breath. “What’s on your mind, Mami?”

She shook her head. “This. . . whatever this is can’t be more than just the summer or—”

“No limits.”

“There has to be limits.”

“Why?”

“Because. . .”

“You don’t even know why. You just know that you have to protect yourself and guard your heart.” I stroked her back.

“Yes, but you’re talking about marriage and earlier when we were in bed together you said that you would make me yours. That’s too much.”

“Are you sure about that?” I ran my fingertips across her soft behind. The water stirred around us. “No limits between us.”

“There has to be some.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to lose myself. It’s happened before.”

“Then let me lose myself in you.” I lapped at the beads of water on her nipples. A loud moan fled from her lips, urging me to suck that hard point into my mouth and flick my tongue across the tip. I moved my face between her moist cleavage and licked some more.

Maldito, she feels so good. I’ve got to have her.

I trapped her other nipple in my mouth. Her legs shivered against my waist with each lick. I stopped and looked into her eyes. “Don’t over think this, Mami. It’s too special. Promise me?”

“I can’t.”

I dug my hand between our bodies and caressed her between those soft thighs. “You can.”

Her whole body trembled against me. I toyed with that velvety flesh some more, needing to see her face as she let go for me, just pushed down all of those barriers around her and accepted everything I had to give her.

“Oh god.” Those two words vibrated from her lips. I traced poetic lines with my fingertips, little messages that she could read on nights when I was not next to her and she lay in the bed, wet and alone. She shrieked in pleasure at my words and statements teasing her body. With my fingers, I outlined our future, every step, each milestone, all the years we would celebrate between us. It was a book I placed between the softest place on earth.

By the end of my finger writing, my fingertips were slick with her. I could tell the difference between ocean water and her arousal, and I loved it.

Tags: Kenya Wright Mystery
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