Page 61 of My Grape Crush
Rhys sinks his fingers into my biceps and pulls me down with him. His dark irises flare as he gazes at me with outrageous want. “Can I take your bikini off?”
“Yes,” I whisper back.
His hands reach around me, fingers fumbling to untie the knot. I can hear his breath catch when the weight of my breasts tumbles free. He holds them in both hands, running his thumbs over the swollen nipples.
His breath reduces to a hitch. “Dani. You are perfect.”
I’m not immune to him either. And it’s downright shameful how my eyes scour every inch of him.
“We chose the right guy for a rosé of the gods.”
He smiles and closes his mouth over a nipple, sucking it as waves of rapture shudder through me. I gasp, arching my back, face upturned to draw air into my quaking lungs. Raindrops ping against my flesh like a hundred fingertips coaxing my arousal from the inside out.
It's impossible to think beyond this moment.
My body screams for his.
Rhys frees my nipple and helps me shimmy out of my bottoms. It takes a bit to get us situated. The raft is slick and cold from the rain, but his warm hands are everywhere, running down the length of my body before they settle on my hips. He tilts them just so,exposing all of my quivering pink privates to the heavens.
His soft hands trace the curves of my ass and slide lower.
The warmth between my legs slowly turns into a desperate throbbing.
Slowly, like he’s unwrapping a gift, he spreads my wet folds.
I can’t speak. I can barely register the fathomless lake stretching out in front of me. It’s so different in the dark. And it feels like something magic is about to happen. Something more powerful than the storm. And then he drags his tongue south to north along my seam in a single sensuous stroke, decimating me with a cascade of pleasure that floods through me like a tsunami.
I see stars. The moon. Fucking Pluto. Then nothing but the blackness of annihilation.
“Jesus,” I breathe.
He kisses and nips my trembling thighs, and I press back to encourage more.
“Don’t forget about me,” he mumbles as his teeth skate over my barbell in a wrathful tease.
I wrap my hand around his satin skin, and his groan vibrates through every inch of him. I can smell the spike of his need curling up from his thicket of blond hair. Angling properly to engulf him, I draw his impossibly lovely sex into the warmth and willingness of my mouth. And when I suck the crown of him, he whimpers and writhes beneath me.
“Yes,” he groans. “Take all of me.”
Buffeted by wind and waves, the raft rocks and rolls, aiding my rhythm, but I lose my will to do anything but moan as he circles my clit and starts sucking. It’s paralyzing how good it feels.
And then another blinding flash of ultra-white turns night into day. Breath lodges deep in my throat as charged air ripples over my skin, nipples tightening in response. The air is damp and smells of ozone, the sky thick with swirling clouds. My toes clench with excitement, and I grin myself stupid.
The threat, the thrill. Surrounded by the crack and sizzle of lightning. Honest-to-God destruction this close, and we both know it.
Is that why Rhys surges as if struck by lightning? He pushes his tongue into me all the way, an equilibrium of force and singlemindedness that evaporates any remaining shred of my misgivings. A cry escapes my throat, the rain turns into sideways end-of-the-world damnation sleet, and I blink through the rivulets of water pouring down my forehead as Rhys tortures me with his mouth and fingers, easily familiar in my innermost spaces. He makes tight, hungry sounds, growling like the thunder.
No man has eaten me out like this.
Commanding. Determined. Invading my secret center with insatiable intensity.
It’s too much, too soon, and I’m pantingplease, please, please.
But his momentum never wavers.
His pace quickens, and I spiral higher as the rapture builds. He’s taking me to a place of animalistic need, all of it black and smothering. In the part of my brain that rules primal instinct, I suddenly understand the storm, the beat of its rhythm. A ribbon of release curls tighter and tighter, funneling lower until it snaps, and I can’t hold the ache back any longer. Pleasure and pain, equally composed, surge within me, and I time the gap between the next blast of light and sound to scream his name into the thunder's roar. For a moment, I feel as weightless as the rain I can no longer feel on my skin.
In the hands of forces bigger than myself.
