Page 26 of Match Made in the Maldives

In the darkness, I slip the string of her dress off her shoulders to expose one breast to the evening air. Her skin prickles with goosebumps, and her rosy nipple is pointed and hard.

“Fuck,” I mutter, wishing I could sink into her chest.

She gasps as I palm her, squeezing the pert peak between my thumb and finger. I create a path with my tongue down her breasts, lapping her up and sucking on the tips. She tastes salty with a hint of coconut. One of her hands weaves through my hair, firing me up like an engine. I want to do everything to this woman.

“Hand?” I ask. “Mouth?”

“Um. Both sound good.”

“Lou.” I give her a playful bite. “What do you want?”

“Your hand! Fuck, your hand.”

I smirk into her dewy skin, landing back on her mouth. Cupping her breast, my other hand trails up her thigh and lands on the lacy edge of her panties. I push the fabric aside to feel her—her velvety soft lips and delicate curls. When I part her folds, she’s slick already, and her eagerness makes my hard-on swell against the front of my pants. She tugs my shirt and her leg presses into my erection. The sensation makes me moan into her cheek.

Following the curves of her, I find her clit and press two needy fingers against her core. When I give her gentle strokes, Lou’s eyes flutter closed. Something changes. Her urgent want and feverish recklessness have worn off. She rests against the tree, in her own world and moaning every few seconds in a methodical, almost bored fashion. Panic rises in my chest. I came in hot with a sex-god attitude, and Lou’s getting about as much pleasure from this as a discount pedicure.

“Hey.” I suck her neck, determination setting in. “What do you need?”

“Nothing.” She opens her eyes, pasting on a sexy expression. “It’s really good. What about you?”

“I need you to not lie to me. Here, what do you like more?” I go from rubbing back and forth to tiny circles.

“Um. The second one?”

“How about this?” I give her clit a gentle squeeze between two fingers, which causes her hips to buck. Her reaction causes a devilish grin to flood my face. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“Y-yes. I like that a lot.”

“I don’t mind experimenting, trying things out with you, Lou,” I say, whispering into her ear as my hand finds a steady speed. “But you can tell me too. Never be afraid to tell me what you like. What you crave.”

She nods her head, her eyes drifting closed again. This time, though, pleasure’s written across her features as she bites the corner of her lip and whimpers.

“You deserve that, you know.” I pin myself against her, putting my weight behind the pressure of my hands. “To get what you want.”

“Always going on about what I want.” Her chest rises and falls, and I toy with her nipple again, causing her to garble something incoherent.

“I won’t stop talking about it, because maybe what you want is to ride my hand until you break.” She exhales, and I capture the sound with my mouth. “Or maybe you want my fingers inside you, filling you up.”

“That. Oh, Finn, I want that.”

When I slip my middle finger into her silky wetness, she gasps outYes, Finn—a sound I intend to play on repeat in my mind until I die. Lou’s a vision, plastered against this tree while I worship her. With my thumb positioned on her clit, I fill her up with another finger, applying pressure in the extra-soft spot closest to me. Lou grinds her hips into me, and we fall into a slow, steady rhythm as she rides my hand. I’ve never seen her like this—raw and needy and desperate. I’m kissing her again, sucking up as much of this moment as I can.

“So good,” she mutters.

“Could do this all night.”

“I think I’m close, but—” She has both arms around my neck, clinging to me for dear life. “I’m loud.”

“Then be loud, baby girl.”

“No. We’re outside.”

“Trust me,” I say, pressing my forehead to hers and inching my fingers closer and closer. “I’ve got you.”

“Finn,” she says in a moan. Her face screws up in pleasure, but before she can alert the entire island, I cover her mouth with mine, letting her growl and groan into me as her body tightens around my fingers. To anyone passing by on the nearby walkway, we’re a wild animal in the brush.

Lou’s breathing evens out, and I kiss down her shoulder again, replacing the strap of her dress. When I remove my hand from her, my body aches from the loss. When her eyes open, her pupils are two black holes reflecting the twinkling stars above.

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