Page 67 of Sin Bin Daddies
We make it to shore, and I just watch her, hands on my hips, chest still rising hard from the swim. Her bikini is soaked, clinging to her like a second skin, highlighting every dip, every curve.
Droplets trail down her collarbone, disappearing between her breasts, andfuck, I’m barely holding onto my control.
She must feel me staring, because she looks up, eyes dark, lips curling.
“Show me this dune, Hart.”
I extend a hand, pulling her up, my grip lingering. We walk barefoot through the cooling sand, leaving the world behind.
The bonfire fades to a distant glow. The dune rises ahead, smooth and untouched, towering over the shoreline.
At the top, the whole beach stretches below, bathed in silver moonlight. Waves crash soft and rhythmic in the distance.
Madeline exhales. “It’s beautiful.”
I don’t answer.
I’m too busy watchingher.
She turns and I step forward, backing her against the slope. Her breath catches, eyes locking onto mine.
“Madeline.” I drag my fingers down her arm, savoring the heat under her skin.
“Yes?”
“I want to fuck you.” My voice is low, raw, full of the hunger I’ve been holding back all night.
Her breath hitches. Then she nods. “Fuck me.”
“You sure?” My hands settle at her hips, grip tightening.
She nods again. “Yes.”
That’s all I need.
I crash my mouth to hers, swallowing her gasp. She melts into me, hands on my chest, nails raking down my skin. I press her into the sand, my knee slipping between her thighs, rolling against the heat of her.
She whimpers. Music to my fucking ears.
I grin, lips tracing down her jaw, along the column of her throat. “You’re already begging, baby.”
She shudders when my hand dips between us, fingers teasing over soaked fabric. So damn wet for me.
I peel the bikini bottom off her hips, dragging it down, taking my time, watching her squirm beneath me.
Then I taste her.
The second my tongue flicks over her cunt, her body jolts, a sharp cry spilling from her lips. She fists my hair, thighs trembling as I pin her down and devour her.
Slow. Deep. Thorough.
She’s gasping, writhing, body arching into me, and I don’t stop—not when she moans my name, not when she shatters, not when her entire body breaks beneath me.
I don’t let up.
Not until she’s wrecked.
She comes down slow, breathless, blinking up at me, dazed. I lick my lips watching her. “You good?”
