Home > Be Mine (Holland Springs #6)(4)

Be Mine (Holland Springs #6)(4)
Author: Marquita Valentine

“Don’t tell anyone,” she said, her voice whisper thin.

Ah, that made sense. She had a reputation to uphold, and she couldn’t blame a youthful indiscretion this time. A bit of tenderness hit him. She was totally out of her comfort zone. He braced an elbow beside her. “Beautiful lass, who would I share this with?”

“I don’t know.” Her golden eyes fluttered close. “Lately, everyone knows about me.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “No one knows you’re here with me. I drove you to a completely different city, in your car, so you could leave at any time you want. Do you want to leave?”

Her inner walls clenched at him, and he relaxed a bit when he slid a bit deeper. It was easier this time. A little sigh made her mouth tremble. “I don’t want to leave.”

Moving his fingers experimentally, he coaxed her into relaxing, though her body more than made him on edge. “Brilliant.”

He kissed her, allowing their mouths to fuse until she parted her lips and let him inside. Her tongue touched his, tentative and then bolder, until his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Their tongues curled, stroked, and just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, her legs parted and she slightly rocked against him.

Her hands went to his shoulders, gliding palms down as she explored him. Lower still to his chest, his stomach, and when she grabbed his cock, he groaned.

Somehow, he managed to get his briefs off and the condom he placed on the floor rolled on—one-handed. He removed his fingers, pulled her knickers off, and settled between her thighs. He was hard. He was ready, but he had to taste her. He had to have every inch of Bella.

Parting her with his thumbs, he made a great deal of showing her how very pleased he was. “How very pink and wet you are, love.” He kissed the side of her thigh. “Like a flower blooming, slowly opening its petals. Shall I kiss you there? Where you’re so very wet, and pink, and hot? Aye, I think I shall.”

She smiled, then bit her lip and lifted her hips, offering herself to him in the most erotic of ways.

Apparently, poetry and flowery language worked with her. She brought that out in him, a side he didn’t share with the world. Not even with the woman he’d thought he would marry.

So, he gave Bella what she wanted, what he wanted. He tasted and licked and nibbled and made her clutch at his shoulders before her fingers found purchase in his hair. He fucking delighted in her moans and sighs. Her thighs shook, tensed, and then he had the absolute pleasure to watch as she went over the edge. As her dark nipples tightened, as goose bumps covered her skin, and she moaned his name.

His name.

Before the last of her orgasm subsided, he was crawling up her body, taking her mouth with his, and pulling one of her legs up and over his arm. He thrust deep inside of her, eyes closing as the feel, at the connection… at the need to bury himself inside of her again and again.

He braced his arms on either side of her, rolling his hips at first, giving her time to get used to him.

“Oh God,” she cried out, aching her back. “This… you… not enough.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. Greedy woman. “I’ll give you enough and then some,” he murmured as he gently thrust inside of her. “I’ll give you all of me. Every. Last. Inch.”

Both legs wrapped around him now, one still draped over his arm, while the other held tight to his back. He grabbed the arm of the sofa and thrust hard enough to make her breasts bounce. His hips moved of their own volition, pounding into her, wanting to go deeper and deeper until his orgasm shot up his spine.

He bellowed her name, like some great roaring beast of old, and surged once, twice and then a third time before slumping over her. He panted, could barely catch his breath at all.

The sofa shuddered and then he heard a crack, before one side dropped.

“Fuck me,” he muttered.

“I think we broke the sofa. I’ve never done that before,” Bella said, and he laughed.

He couldn’t help it. He leaned up, framing her face with his hands. “I was a wee bit rough at the end.”

Bella grinned. “I wouldn’t call it wee.”

“Aye.” He tilted his head to one side. “I’ve not the ego to sustain such an insult.”

She lifted up, face tilting, and he met her halfway, kissing her as though she was made of glass. “What do we do now?”

“Shower, eat, shag. Not necessarily in that order.” He pulled out of her, and then rose from the sofa. “I’m a flexible man.”

Bella stared after him. “Your accent has gotten thicker.”

He flushed at her observation. His grandfather, the one who’d helped raised him, preferred for Liam to sound like a proper gentleman. And by that, he meant like an Englishman.

“I like it.”

“And I like you,” he said, striding to her and lifting her to feet.

She looked as though she was about to say something, but decided against it. Yet, she looked unsure of their situation. Hell, he wasn’t sure of what had happened, really. Not beyond the sex. The mind-blowing want-to-shag-her-night-and-day sex.

He solved the problem for them both and scooped her up in his arms. “I’d like you better all soapy and wet.”

*

Liam woke suddenly, feeling as if he were missing something. He turned. The bed was empty. Isabella was gone.

Surely, she wouldn’t have left him without a word. A strange sort of feeling settled in his chest at the thought. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness, he searched the room. The room was silent but for the roar of the ocean. The sheer curtains swayed lightly with the breeze.

Where was she?

As if in answer, the curtains parted, giving him unobstructed view of the balcony, and he let out a sigh of relief.

Bella sat in one of the large chairs facing the ocean, her arms wrapped around her legs. Her hair was loose, falling down her bare back, something that he found not only to be erotic, but surprising. She didn’t strike him as someone who would sit, without a stich of clothing on, where anyone could see her.

She moved slightly, and he realized that she had a blanket wrapped around her. Now that made more sense.

He sat up in bed, studying her profile. Her posture was relaxed, but her shoulders were tense. She nibbled on her bottom lip and then laid her head on her knees. The lines of her body were beautiful, her golden skin bathed in starlight. She reminded him of a mermaid that sailors long ago claimed to have tried to lure them into their death, yet still they sailed. Day after day. Year after year. Searching for a long-lost treasure.

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