Love, Art, and Murder – Mystery Romance - Page 78

“Stay right there.” I drew in as much oxygen as I could, lowered into the water, put her legs on my shoulders, and sucked on all the places I wrote on, everywhere there was a letter that needed a dot or slash, any spot that yearned for extra attention. She squirmed against my mouth, swishing water and bubbles around my face.

Fuck. I wish I could breathe under water, but I have to stop.

Coming up for air, I rose with her sitting on my shoulders and her hands holding the back of my head. Water streamed down our bodies. I looked up at her. She was a shuddering mass of panting that echoed across the ocean’s surface. “Oh. . . my. . . goodness.”

I drew in more air and took us back under the water. I didn’t waste any time, drinking to my heart’s content. Pressure pushed against my lungs. I twirled my tongue, as fast as I could, coating my tongue with her. We rose again.

She looked down at me like she’d just seen me for the first time. I lapped at her center once again so she could see me do it. She blinked her eyes as if unsure of how to respond.

“I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.” I raised her off my shoulders, lowered her to me, and guided her legs around my waist. “Why did you take so long to come to me?”

“If I knew you were here, I would’ve come so much sooner.”

“Yeah?” I displayed a wicked grin.

“God, yes.”

“Then no limits?”

She swallowed. “No limits.”

“Can I make love to you, mi amor?”

“Please.”

In no time, I entered her. It took no effort or light from the moon above us to figure out where to push and pull. I’d learned her body in those few moments of writing my thoughts on her and she was so ready for me. I slid inside her precious area, which was so yielding to my thrusts yet immediately formed around my length whenever I had to pull away.

Dear god!

I bit my bottom lip to control my speed. With her, I had to take my time. She was more than anybody else and ten times more than that. But I was already so close and barely inside of her for a minute. A little squeak left her mouth and transformed into a humming tune of sensual moans that throbbed throughout my flesh. If it could be put to song, I would’ve done it right there. But instead I listened intently, just to burn the memory into my brain for another day when life didn’t feel this good and my mind needed to remember the sound of love.

“You’re going to ruin me,” I groaned and sped up more than I should have, but I couldn’t help it. All of my concentration dove to my length and the suctioning of velvety pleasure around it.

“Oh, don’t stop,” she begged. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Never, mi amor.” Driving harder into her with liquid movements, I held her body close to mine, just to keep her from falling back as she writhed against me, winding those hips and taking my breath away. Waves crashed against us. But the sound couldn’t drown out the loud noises that left our lips.

“Yes!” She dug her nails into my shoulders. Pain gnawed at them. I had no time to move those hands away while we screamed, making love and rubbing against each other.

The whole time the moon watched us. Wet flesh splashed against wet flesh. Our motions disturbed the sea. I couldn’t get enough of her. Each of my strokes pushed deeper than I’d gone before. Rumbling low noises mixed with screams. Nails bit into skin. Vibrations of lust merged with greedy strokes that seemed to never be satisfied.

Until the moment when our gazes met and the world crashed around us in a blurred shade of darkness. We fused together into one moving body. Explosive. Just like those marvelous fireworks from Hex’s party. We disintegrated into hot sparks and throat-burning groans, wet orgasms and satiated flesh. We filled the night air with light and shone brighter than all those millions of glittering stars watching us from the sky.

The waves slammed into each other, jealous of our sex. The clouds separated to give the sky a better look. We hypnotized the moon.

Then we stopped to rest, asked the guards to get us clothes, and did it all again.

Chapter 21

Elle

Our time at South Beach would forever be engraved in my mind. We’d made love until my legs went numb and my body ached in the most sensitive of places. Afterward, the guards brought us back towels and clothes, mainly shorts and shirts that read, “What happens in South Beach stays in South Beach.”

I hope not.

After we dressed, we lay together on the towels and talked about everything. Alvarez’s fears didn’t stop at clowns. Kittens freaked him out. Not cats, but kittens. He talked about a time during his teen years when Hex laid little kittens on his bed, woke Alvarez up, and laughed as Alvarez jumped to the other side of the room and screamed. I confessed to him my panic of too much texture on natural things—rocky surfaces in strange unusual patterns, bumpy mold, bulbous layers on odd plants, roots shaped into weird contours. When I found things like that and looked too long, I would be close to vomiting.

Tags: Kenya Wright Mystery
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