Breathe You In (A Sexy Romance) Read online

“Oh, I love it when you want me so much,” he said, licking his way along the taut tendons of my neck. “It makes me feel so alive.”

  “I want you all right.” I wrapped my hand around his nape and pulled him in for a hot, panting kiss. My tongue searching and needy, slippery and desperate.

  He fed me wild kiss for wild kiss. Pumping into me and rubbing my excited prostate with unrelenting fingertips.

  I tore my mouth from his. “Please, your cock. I want to come with your cock in me.”

  He stared into my eyes. The silvery glow of the moonlight made his sparkle and look so brown they appeared black.

  Without a word he pulled his fingers from my tight hole, and sat back on his haunches. He reached for a tube of lube and quickly greased up his dark, jutting cock. Had I not been feeling so desperate, I would have snapped forward and done it for him, but my hunger to have him sinking into my ass was overwhelming and I wanted nothing to get in the way of Nick fucking me.

  I clutched my kneecaps, drawing my legs up so my thighs were pressed against my torso.

  “That’s it, baby, just relax,” he said in a growling voice and directed the wide, mushroomed head of his cock at my up-tilted anus.

  Relax! I was a coiled spring about to unwind—spectacularly.

  I held my breath and studied his face as he pushed in past that first barrier. The heat of his cock and the chill of the lube was exquisite, a beautiful contrast. I watched his lips pull back over his teeth and his eyes shut tight. He loved this first bit, the stretch, the entry, he often told me. So did I. We’d made love a million times in a million different ways but it was always special, he always made me feel so adored.

  “Ah, yes, that’s it, fuck, Josh, yeah, squeeze me tight, tighter, yes, yes.” He hissed in a breath.

  I clamped my anus as he slid in, a smooth glide that filled me to bursting point. He didn’t stop until his bollocks hit my ass cheeks, the sparse hairs tickly and the soft skin cool.

  My fingernails dug into my shins, my hips were stretched apart, and as he dropped his weight to kiss me, my knees clamped against the sides of his torso.

  Instead of setting up a pulling in-and-out rhythm, Nick began to rock, the hard stalk of his cock massaging my special internal place perfectly, my own shaft trapped between our bodies.

  “You like your final present?” he asked into my mouth.

  “Yes, yes, oh, God, yes.” I held his cheeks and cupped my palms over his wide, angled jawline. “Yes, Nick, oh God, I love you so much.”

  “And I love you, more than anything else in the world. Now come for me, come hard and long, and don’t hold anything back, let me hear how good I, your husband, makes you feel.”

  He deepened his entry and dropped his weight farther. I gave myself up to him. Nothing else existed except for Nick and the glorious way he made me come. His big, solid dick up my ass, and the coarse hairs on his abdomen scraping deliciously over my engorged shaft was my own personal heaven.

  “Ah, yes, fucking hell, I love you, yes, yes, yes,” I cried out. Deep within me there was an explosion and my ass pulsed into a series of powerful contractions. My bollocks fired out the pressure that had been building, shooting it up my shaft and jettisoning it between our frantic bodies.

  “Ah, you sound so fucking awesome when you come,” he groaned.

  “Oh, you’re so deep, don’t stop, keep going, take every last bit of me.”

  This seemed to tip Nick over the edge, and instead of rocking he lifted up and began to pound in and out of my quivering ass. Slapping up against my butt cheeks and thighs with each devastating thrust.

  I stretched my arms up and grabbed hold of the slats in the headboard. Allowed him to own my body. Use it to take himself to an ecstatic high.

  “Fucking hell, that’s it, that’s it,” he shouted, forging in fast and hard then freezing at the hilt.

  I peeled open my eyes and reveled in the sensation of his cock spurting into me, filling my ass with his need and his hot cum.

  “Oh, my God,” he cried, gripping my waist and impaling me farther onto his spasming shaft. “That’s so good, so fucking good.”

  Still clutching the headboard, I braced my heels on the bed as he rammed into me twice more, shuddering out his climax. He was so hard and long, sometimes I wondered how the hell he fit inside me when his cock was at its maximum length and girth, just before he orgasmed.

  “Oh, yes,” he panted, dropping down and burying his face in my neck.

  I allowed my legs to flop to the sides, released the headboard and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. I held him close as he trembled and his heart beat wildly.

  “Thank you,” I whispered into his razor-short hair.

  “For what?”

  “For such a wonderful anniversary. It’s been perfect.”

  “You’re perfect,” he said, kissing my neck. “I can’t imagine my life without you. I would do anything for you, you know that.”

  “The feeling is mutual,” I said, stoking my fingers down his damp back, dipping into the gutter of his spine and feeling the first rise of his buttocks. “We will be together forever, no matter what happens. You must always remember that.”

  Chapter One - Laura

  Okay, so Marbella had been a long way to go for a weekend and had maxed out the credit card, but I just had to escape the gray June London was offering. Where were the ice-cream-coated kids, the heavy, week-old smog, and the sun-screened bodies lounging in the parks?

  Looking around the endless beach, it seemed all the sticky kids and the suntanned torsos had made the same decision as me—to get the hell out of the city and closer to the Equator.

  I stretched back on my lounger and stared at the horizon. The sea was the color of a Ceylon sapphire, a pale crystal blue with just a few frothy waves breaking on the surface. The fine sand, a vivid gold, was interrupted only by bright bikinis, colorful swim trunks and the odd striped windbreak. It was a like a scene from a travel brochure, which was just as well since my latest photographic assignment was about the masses escaping the dismal British weather.

  I clicked away on my Nikon digital. Took a shot of two children building a sandcastle, then turned and zoomed in on a waiter delivering an umbrella-and-cherry- strewn cocktail to a woman in a white bikini on a white sun bed beneath a white parasol. I studied the image, slurped up the last of my own fruity, rum-laced cocktail, then turned my lens to sea. A beautiful yacht broke the surface and I snapped its graceful profile; it was almost silhouetted because of the dense sunshine. I reduced my zoom and scanned the ebbing waves. Several kids splashed noisily, an elderly couple walked past hand in hand, and then, then a buff beach God strolled out of the water.

  It was as if every cell in my body magnetically tuned in to him. A fizzing sensation of awareness buzzed over my skin. I caught my breath and skimmed my gaze over him. It was a Daniel Craig moment, but this was a million times better, because this perfect specimen of manhood was here, breathing the same air as me, walking on the same sand as my lounger rested on.

  I clicked away, keen to immortalize that broad, angular chest the color of a perfect apple-pie crust. I needed to record that slim waist, wall of bricked abs and tight navy swim trunks. His thighs were wide with muscles, tensing with each step he took out of the waves.

  My index finger went on overdrive as he scraped back his wet hair, the action causing his torso to stretch and amplify his sumptuous oblique muscles angling down to his shorts. I licked my lips, straightened my back and thought what perfect shots I’d have.

  He was getting closer. He’d left the gentle push-pull of the ebbing waves and was now on dry powdery sand. Kicking up little clouds behind himself with each step.

  Suddenly my mouth dried and I swallowed. He was staring straight at me. I took one last indulgent shot then lowered my lens. In an instant my heart rate shot to dangerous levels. By reducing my zoom the lens had fooled me into thinking he was farther away than he was. The glaring truth was his broad shadow was just ab
out to engulf me. Swallow me whole.

  I stared up into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. They were the exact shade of the cloudless sky above me. He pushed his hair back again; it was dark blond and several long tendrils flopped straight back over his forehead. His parted his lips, as if to speak, then closed it and tipped his mouth into a smile instead.

  If I’d been hot before, now I was on fire. His smile was enough to cause my bikini briefs to spontaneously combust. Wide sensuous lips, the lower one a little plump, screamed sin. Good, hot, dirty sin. Oh, it had been so long since I’d enjoyed the benefit of a sexy man’s mouth on my body.

  I matched his smile, lifted my shades to the top of my head and rested back on my lounger. Enjoyed his gaze roaming down my body and was glad I’d opted for my favorite red bikini that morning. It had tiny white polka dots and the halter-neck top was especially flattering on my small breasts.

  But despite his appreciative expression he didn’t slow down. He kept on walking, stepped right past me, so close that tiny grains of sand from his passing feet sprinkled onto my magazine and beach bag. I stared at his long limbs, wishing I wasn’t such a sucker for a handsome face and mouthwatering body.

  It was then I spotted his wedding ring.

  Damn.

  Just my bloody luck.

  I sighed and dropped my shades over my eyes. How typical was that? Though of course I should have known. The good ones were always taken. It seemed to be one of life’s irritating nuances, the older you got and the more keen you were to settle down, the less men there were to choose from.

  I shut my eyes and tried not to feel jealous of the lucky woman who would be getting a drippy, salt-laden kiss from that beautiful mouth right now. Running her hands over sun-warmed, smooth skin and giggling as he whispered what dirty things he would do to her later, in bed. I squeezed my legs together and my clit gave a little tug behind my bikini briefs. There would be no man in my bed tonight, just my trusty Rampant Rocker vibrator. Rocky, as I affectionately called him, had been my only release for nearly a year now. A string of disastrous relationships with men who said one thing but meant another had led to a decision to take a year off from dating. But that year was nearly up, and I wouldn’t say no to a man again. Even if it was just for one night.

  I drifted into an explicit daydream about what I’d do with a hot male body tied up before me. I’d start with long, slow kisses, move on to oral sex; perhaps I would sit on his face. Then I would ride him, hard and fast. Get myself off over and over, my pussy gorging on rock hard cock. Next I would let him strap me down, lay spread- eagled and surrendered, allow him to do what he wanted to my poor neglected body. In the end I would be crying for a rest he’d made me come so many times.

  “I brought you a fresh drink.”

  The deep voice at my side startled me from the erotic picture my mind had created. I opened my eyes, sat up and propped my glasses on my head. Hoped I hadn’t mumbled anything incriminating during my daydream.

  Sitting on the empty lounger next to mine was Beach God. The very man, I now realized, who’d been the star of my recently concocted fantasy. Warm anticipation poured through me. He was truly beautiful and his smile devastatingly infectious.

  But why is he sitting next to me?

  “Oh, er thanks,” I managed, reaching for the large Pina Colada he offered forward. It had three straws emerging from white froth and two slices of pineapple balanced on the rim. “But how did you know—?”

  “That you were drinking Pina Colada? I asked the waiter at the beach bar.” He nodded in the direction of a circular wooden hut with a reed-stick roof.

  “Oh, well, thank you very much. I’d just finished mine.”

  “I know.” He grinned and took a sip from a bottle of beer. When he lowered the bottle it made a soft sploshing sound. He held out his hand. “Josh Kendal.”

  He wrapped his long, strong fingers around mine and squeezed gently. His skin was as smooth and warm as I’d imagined, though I noticed callouses on his palm.

  “Laura Makay. It’s nice to meet you, Josh. Thanks for the drink.”

  “Are you here alone, Laura?”

  “Yes, just for a long weekend. I need pictures for an assignment so decided to take a working holiday.”

  “Great place you’ve chosen to work. Marbella’s amazing.”

  “Yes, it is.” I took a sip of my scrumptious cocktail, appreciating its coolness after the dregs of my last one that had warmed in the sunshine. “What about you. Are you here alone or are you with your wife?” I directed my gaze at his left hand, staring studiously at his silver wedding ring for a few seconds before re-settling my gaze on his.

  He grinned. “No, not at all, I don’t have a wife.”

  I raised my eyebrows a fraction and took another sip of drink. No wife but wearing a wedding ring? I would wait for him to explain that one.

  His grin was still in place when he nodded in the direction of the beach bar. “I’m here with my partner, Nick.”

  I followed his gaze. “That’s him, sitting in the shade, catching up on emails,” Josh said. I spotted a tall, dark-haired guy hunched over a laptop. He wore flowery swim shorts and had a broad, hairy chest. “Your partner. As in business.” Josh laughed, a deep rumbling sound. “God no, I couldn’t work with him, he’s fanatical about detail, it would drive me crazy. No, Nick is my husband” He smoothed his index finger over the ring. “We’ve been together for ten years. That’s why we’re in Marbella. He’s treating me to a holiday as an anniversary present.”

  I felt as though a ton of rubble had just been dropped inside my chest. Of all the luck. Not only was the delectable man at my side married, he was also gay. He couldn’t be more out of reach if he was living on the damn moon. “Well, er, congratulations,” I said, swallowing tightly. “On, your, you know, anniversary.” I gulped down several big mouthfuls of cocktail, ensuring the straw was right at the base of the glass to maximize the rum hit.

  “Thanks,” he said, pushing his hair from his face again.

  I rested back and slotted my sunglasses down over the bridge of my nose. I didn’t want him to spot the disappointment in my eyes. Josh was by far the most lovely looking man I’d spoken to in years and suddenly finding out nothing would ever happen between us, not even for one night, created a twisting frustration in my gut.

  “So where are you staying?” he asked.

  “Just here.” I tipped my head to the towering hotel behind the beach bar. “At The Peniche.”

  “Yes, so are we. It’s pretty special, isn’t it?”

  “It’s lovely, but I really should have been kinder to my bank balance and gone for something a little cheaper.”

  “So why didn’t you?”

  “Well, since I’m traveling alone I wanted to know my hotel wasn’t going to be on some dingy back street. Plus, this one has free airport transfers so I didn’t need to hire a car.” I shrugged. “And it’s just for four nights anyway.”

  He smiled. “I think it does everyone good to be spoiled sometimes.”

  “Definitely. Has Nick been spoiling you?”

  “God yes. He acts like a hard nut but he’s a complete softy really, very romantic when the mood takes him and he’s not swamped by work.”

  “What does he do?”

  “He’s an architect. He’s got his own business which he runs from home, but it means he needs to keep on top of current projects when we’re away. He can’t completely forget about his clients.”

  “No absolutely.”

  “It only takes him a couple of hours a day, though, and it suits me to go for a swim and laze in the sun reading. If he doesn’t do it he only worries and gets crabby.”

  “I understand what that’s like. When I have an assignment I like to just get on with it.”

  “What is it you do exactly?”

  “I’m a freelance photographer.” I nodded at the camera by my side. “Sometimes I work to a specific request my agent has negotiated, other times I just snap away
and sell what looks good.”

  “Wow, that’s a pretty impressive way to earn a living.”

  “Yes, it’s fun, but to be honest I could do with selling a few more pictures. Though if I don’t, it wouldn’t stop me being a photographer. I love what I do. Capturing an image, a moment in time, it makes me feel like I’m a documenter of history.”

  He grinned, flashing neat white teeth and sending small lines darting from the sides of his eyes. “So what are your favorite types of shots?”

  I thought for a second. “Hard to say. I like taking ones like I have been today. On a beach, everyone having fun, great light to play with, not much to tell you what decade it is except for the style of beachwear. Then other times I like to really concentrate on the detail, close ups, nature particularly, flowers, bugs, cobwebs on a frosty morning, that sort of thing.”

  “Nice.” He took a sip of his beer. When he took the rim of the bottle from his lips they were coated with moisture. A small dot of white froth sat in the central bow of his top lip.

  “You ever do portraits?” he asked, apparently oblivious of my intense scrutiny of his mouth, and luckily none the wiser to the fact that I was imagining what it would be like to be that speck of beer froth.

  “Er, yes, I have in the past. It usually pays well, and if the subject is...” I paused, searching for the right words as I kicked my brain into gear again. On the tip of my tongue was a comment about being physically perfect and how that made portrait work so much easier, but I couldn’t say that without blushing, for surely Josh knew how physically perfect he was. Surely he was aware he was having an effect on me despite the fact he’d been honest in telling me not only was he gay but also married.

  He licked his top lip and tipped his head, as if urging me to go on.

  I sighed, and once again quashed that sludgy feeling of regret. “If the portrait subject is relaxed it makes it so much easier,” I said. “Plus if they have an idea what kind of mood they’re going for in the final shot it helps to get us both on the same wavelength.”