Entangled (Serendipity Adventure Romance Book 2) (12 page)

BOOK: Entangled (Serendipity Adventure Romance Book 2)
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“Cara—” he moaned, giving up any pretense of having his shit together. Not with Cara working him like this. Toying with the tip of his shaft, then taking him deep, deep — holy-shit-deep.

She could have said anything then.
Tobin, get on your knees and bark like a dog.
Tobin, get over to the bed and let me tie you down
. He’d do it in a heartbeat. Anything for her. For this. This slice of heaven he thought he’d never, ever experience again.

She came up for a breath of air and murmured “Oh, yes,” before closing over him once more.

Then it was him saying
Oh, yes
over and over as she worked him with those perfect lips, that clever tongue. What her mouth couldn’t reach, her fingers made up for, circling, then squeezing, then letting up, the perfect interplay of a little too tight and more-please-more. He might even have said that, once or twice.

His eyes rolled back in his head, and the only thought that fit in his blissed-out mind was that the minute he did get his shit together, he’d make her soar as high as she was sending him now, and do it for hours. Make her climb until she was whimpering the names of all the saints her parents made her memorize in Sunday school — the ones she really, really shouldn’t call to mind at a time like this. Then he’d plunge inside her, man inside his woman, and make her sing to heaven as he finished what she was starting. Then they’d lie there sweating and heaving and muttering
Hallelujah
and
Amen
.

Except right now it was him doing the muttering, the sweating, the heaving. He rocked on his heels, setting a rhythm she caught on to, and Christ, he’d never felt his balls go that tight, his cock that heavy or slick. She had both hands wrapped around his hips now, squeezing him closer, and though he’d been in the same position a couple of times, he hadn’t felt anything this close to total meltdown ever in his life.

But he sure as hell wasn’t going to come in the mouth of his Italian princess, so he hauled her up to her feet and crushed his lips over hers. A little harder than he intended, but that seemed to suit Cara just fine. She tasted like…like him, and that set off a raw, animal urge.

“Fuck, Cara.”

“Oh, we’ll get to that,” she said, looking far too satisfied for a woman who hadn’t yet gotten her share. “I promise you, we’ll get to that. But right now, we finish this.”

This
was her pulling his hand down to his cock and finishing him off, both of them together. Her hand should have felt tiny under his, but she had all the power. She watched his face from an inch away as he thrust harder and harder into her hand.

Let her watch. Let her listen. If she caught even a tiny fraction of this high, he’d be okay.

He heard her giggle, then huff into his ear. “Gotcha, hotshot.”

“You had me from the very st—”

The very start,
he’d meant to say, but it got cut off by the tsunami that swept him into coming, hot and hard and heavy, in her hand. She milked every last drop while he shuddered and groaned and finally went limp.

Cara whisked the towel over both of them then ran a hand up his chest and chuckled.

“Gotcha.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

Cara tucked her nose into the hollow of Tobin’s collarbone and breathed him in as he slowly came down from his high. That scent was pure Tobin — an ocean breeze mixed with a lush jungle flavor that he’d made into his signature blend.

Him. Tobin.

Hers.

She snuggled closer, not quite ready to meet his eyes. Where that blow job had come from, she had no idea. Maybe it was the jungle, calling out the primal need in her. Maybe it was the result of having felt so trapped and alone over the past days, or even the past couple of years.

Or maybe it was the power of two long-lost soul mates, united at last.

How she’d ever let him go or doubted him, she didn’t know. Right now, all she felt was the driving need to hold on and never, ever let him go.

So she didn’t, even when he bent, flexed, and cradled her against his chest. She didn’t let go as he carried her to the bed, and she sure didn’t let go when he leaned her back on the mattress. Wherever he went, she went, too.

Which led to a moment of wrestling with the mosquito net and the last of her clothes, plus a frantic dig in his bag for a condom. But even that they did together; she held the bag while he rooted around.

“I bet you Tarzan never had these moments,” he frowned.

She snorted. “I doubt he did. That Jane was a prude.”

“Gotta feel for the guy. It’s not like he had a lot of options.”

She glowed a little. God knew Tobin had all the choice in the world, but he wanted her. Her!

He crawled over her body and tucked the condom next to the pillow. “Me, Tobin. You, Cara.”

“So show me your stuff, hotshot.” She kept her voice playful, instead of blurting the uncensored version in her mind.
Yeah, show me. Show me hard, fast, and deep.

Yep, her inner cavewoman had definitely taken over. And God, it felt good.

“Be careful what you wish for, princess of mine.”

“What are you waiting for, my good knight?”

His lips quirked. “Just deciding where to start. Here?” His eyes stopped on her lips, and he rubbed a finger across the seam. “Or maybe here?” His hand ghosted over the left side of her torso, hovering a hair over her skin.

She cheated and sucked in a deep breath, thrusting a breast into his palm. Getting him off had her wound tighter than tight, and her body begged for release.

He chuckled, but skimmed on. “Or maybe here.” His voice dropped an octave as his fingers tiptoed toward her mound.

“Everywhere,” she whispered, arching into him.

He tilted an eyebrow at her, and it sent flames licking through her body. Little flames that shot off in all directions, then reunited in a single, raging fireball in her core. She was writhing under him now, spreading her legs, inviting him in.

“Tobin…”

“So impatient. Don’t you know we have all night?”

Her inner beast nearly let out a yowl, but Tobin drowned it with a kiss. His lips made little rippling motions over hers, setting wild signals through her nerves. His hand toyed with her breast, scooping and shifting the soft flesh while his thumb brushed over the nipple, bringing it to a peak. She hadn’t felt so high, so wild, so…electrified in years.

Something between a squeak and a moan escaped her lips. “Oh, that feels good.”

His hand strayed lower and slid between her legs, parting her folds.

She murmured something that came out garbled and low.

“You like that.” The corners of his mouth quirked up.

Yeah, she was unraveling at the seams, but at least she had the satisfaction of hearing his voice go raspy and deep.

“You like it, too,” she managed. Right before he slid a finger inside and made everything in her sing.

“I do.” He flashed a wicked smile and slid a second finger in. He moved them in wide, wet circles, around and around.

“Tobin,” she groaned, not really sure what she wanted to say.

“Cara.” His eyes went dark with unveiled desire.

His fingers slid deeper, faster, honing in on the spot that would shatter her while his thumb pressed harder on her clit. She closed her eyes, riding this roller coaster to the very top, ready for the thrilling drop on the other side.

“Tob—”

She got that much out before his teeth scraped over her nipple, and then she was flying on a wave that seemed to tumble all of her insides. Like falling off a surfboard and swirling around in the frothy aftermath. Only better. Way, way better. She shook with an orgasm that went on and on until the roaring in her ears dulled to the quiet whisper of waves rippling over a beach.

She swallowed a couple of times, because she hadn’t come that hard or that long in…in…well, a very long time.

Tobin kept busy, fluttering little butterfly kisses all over her chest, and when she cracked an eye open, he flicked his eyebrows up and smiled.

“You like that.” Just the sound of his voice lubricated her joints.

“I love it.”

I love you
, she almost said. Good thing she was still catching her breath.

The rain pattered on the roof as the shower eased away, and the bungalow was dim. Twilight had fallen in a rush. The jungle came alive with a thousand squeaks, squawks, and chirps. Another minute passed in blissful, boneless oblivion, and if his cock hadn’t jutted into her hip, she may well have spent another hour lying there. But Tobin’s touch was like an on switch, and just like that, she was ready for more.

She jackknifed up and searched between the pillows for the condom, then tore the package open with her teeth.

Tobin’s eyes shone, and then he winked.

“Hungry, much?”

Cara shoved him back onto the mattress. She’d show him hungry.

“Starving.” Not just for sex, she was starving for him. For them to be one.

His cock twitched when she touched it, then throbbed as she unrolled the condom slowly, enjoying every hard inch. It was strange, though, too, because when they got engaged, they’d switched from condoms to the pill, not wanting a single layer separating them.

Now, that layer was back. That separation. She blinked a couple of times to push the lump in her throat back down. She wasn’t about to ruin this magic with regrets, so she ran her hand over his hard length, then swung into a straddle over him. Quickly, before she chickened out.

She leaned low and sucked his lower lip between hers, rubbing it back and forth. A trick she’d learned from him, because while he was distracted with that, she tugged his arms up high. Then she reared back to admire the view, keeping his arms pinned over his head.

Tobin Whitman Cooper, ski hunk, surf god, and part-time jungle explorer, stretched out under her like a prize. Grinning like a fool, as if he were poised at the top of a mountain of fresh powder, ready for the ride of his life.

He made a show of struggling free, but when she lowered herself onto him, inch by luscious inch, he gave up the charade and went perfectly still. Keeping piercing eye contact, even with his eyelids sliding to half-mast. His hands broke free and clamped over her hips, and she rode him like a pony, rocking and pushing and sighing with every desperate breath.

He bucked under her, and they moved in perfect time as she leaned back to take him deeper. Deeper. Putting her hands on his thighs as the ride grew frisky, making the angle better still. Then the pony became a bronc and she was hanging on for a wild ride, shaking and waiting and crying for release.

But release wouldn’t come; she’d build higher and higher, then somehow lose her grip, and he backed off every time.

“Tobin,” she pleaded.

“Just a second longer,” Tobin breathed.

Endurance. Not a good thing.

“No, Tobin, now. Please.”

A corner of his mouth twitched, and then he rolled in one swift, smooth move that reversed their positions. She was stretched under him, arms pinned over his her, and he was the one settling between her legs.

“Yes,” she cried. “Yes.”

They were close now, so close, and her body screamed for more.

But Tobin? Tobin drew it out. Teased his cock along her folds. Pushed in, only to pull back.

“God, Cara, you’re so goddamn tight.”

“Good tight? Bad?”

He groaned, closed his eyes, and rocked some more. “Good tight. Great. Perfect.”

Which was pretty much what she felt. Perfect. Or close to perfect. If he’d just let go…

“Tobin, come—”

He slid right in, and a jolt of power shot through her body. His angle was perfect, the pressure on her G-spot just the right mixture of smooth and hard. A slow slide out, a deliciously hard push back in. When he started thrusting, she gave in to the rush of pleasure with a howling cry of need. Even Tobin seemed to lose it, because his rhythm skipped and jumped, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted fast or slow.

“Fast,” she hissed between her teeth and clamped down hard with her inner muscles.

“Cara!”

No man had ever cried her name like that. A plea, a promise. A command.

She did it again.

“Cara!” The sinew and muscle went tight along his shoulders as he came inside her with a series of hard jerks, rasping her name. She came a second later, shaking through a long, rattling high and a glorious series of aftershocks that went on and on. Right to the point where her eyes fluttered open and found the look on his face.

His eyes were closed, his mouth open. Chin up, head back, riding the last energy of that wave. Her head buzzed a little, because Tobin Cooper, smoothest operator in the Northeast, was coming undone. With her. Not just with anyone. Just her.

He swallowed hard and opened his eyes, pulling her into that promising blue horizon. Then he folded carefully over her and let his weight settle like the world’s coziest blanket. The bed that had seemed impossibly small before was now just right. She lay perfectly still, perfectly happy.

“Jesus, Cara.”

Yeah, that helped, too.

“You can say that again.”

He smiled into her neck and mumbled it again. “Cara.”

Not an inch separated them. Tobin was as close as she could have him. She sighed so deeply, her chest lifted his body up and down.

And like he said, they did have all night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty

 

“Cara.” Tobin tapped her lips with his, but she didn’t stir.

The roosters were crowing, a dog barking, some kids whispering outside. The village was waking up, though it wasn’t quite dawn.

Dawn on Friday. He had to smile at that. The jungle had finally gotten the better of Cara and her New York sense of time. That, or their nighttime antics had finally worn her out.

The thought ought to have stretched his smile wider, but all he did was gulp. It was a lot like their very first morning together in that ski chalet. He’d been terrified that she’d wake up, realize what a crazy thing she had done, and beat a quick, red-faced retreat out his door. Because Cara wasn’t the type to do quick and easy. That part was obvious from the second they’d met, when the sparks started to fly and she tried everything she could to resist. Him, too, because he’d promised himself he’d get everything right for this woman. Like taking it slow, really slow, making sure she knew she was more to him than another ski bunny on another slope.

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