Drake Sisters 03 - Oceans of Fire

she sank down into the depths. She sat, her head pillowed on the cushion, looking up at the stars and listening to the boom of the ocean as he took his shower.

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    Abigail sat up and watched him walk toward her when she heard the slide of the door. He was carrying two champagne glasses filled with golden liquid. He stepped into the hot tub and handed her a glass. She set the flute on the edge of the tub and cupped his sac in her palm, gently squeezing as she came up on her knees. Her breasts floated in the hot water as she leaned toward him. “You’re such a gorgeous man.”
    At her touch, he was coming alive even in the coolness of the night. She wrapped her fingers around him, felt him grow longer and harder in answer. “Just stand there, Sasha, and drink your champagne. I want to touch you.”
    He had explored her body thoroughly, but she had only managed to anchor herself by digging her nails into him and holding on when the sensations became too much. Now she had time for a far more leisurely exploration.
    Aleksandr closed his eyes as her warm breath moved over his body. Her hands slipped over his skin, traced lines and muscles, returned to brush lightly over his suddenly raging erection. He raised the glass to his lips and took a small sip of the champagne just as her mouth closed over him. He nearly dropped the glass and choked. His free hand settled in her hair.
    “I love your mouth.” He was once again agonizingly hard and throbbing heavily.
    She didn’t respond. Moisture was already pooling low and her womb clenched again, rippling and pulsing with need. Both hands came up to grip his thighs, her fingers digging into the heavy muscle there as he filled her mouth with his fullness. She began to suckle strongly, her tongue dancing and teasing while he groaned in pleasure.
    Aleksandr threw back his head and looked up at the sky. The moon bathed them in light while the ocean played a strong melody in the background. The heat of the tub was nothing in comparison to the fire of her velvet mouth. He had no idea what he’d done in a former life to deserve a woman like Abigail. He had never conceived of having a woman who would share herself so completely, so honestly. One who would enjoy his body with such complete abandon. She could do amazing things with her mouth and seemed to love doing them to him.
    His legs trembled and he felt like he was strangling with pleasure, his breath coming in ragged gasps, lungs burning for air. He thrust deeper into her mouth, his hips picking up the ebb and flow of the sea. His sac was so tight he was afraid he would burst. “I want to come inside of you, Abbey. I’m close, so close.”
    Her body was pulsing with such need she reluctantly gave up the pleasure of driving him out of his mind and allowed him to pull free of her mouth. He reached down and gripped her waist, lifting her without preamble to her feet and turning her toward the pillowed headrest. With the flat of his hand on her back he forced her to lean forward. She found herself staring out at the pounding sea as his hand slipped between her legs, his fingers seeking her dampness.
    He groaned. “You’re so ready for me. Do you have any idea what that can do to a man?” It could bring him to his knees. Abigail had no idea what she’d done for him, how she’d changed his life, how she’d changed him as a person. He wouldn’t go back to what he’d been without her. He drove into her hard, needing the pounding pleasure pulsing through his body to drive his demons away. They rose up so unexpectedly. Abigail had confessed how difficult it was to get her life back and go on without him, but she had managed. He hadn’t been able to do it.

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    He had poured his heart into his letters and she had sent them back unopened. Before Abbey it had never mattered if he was happy as long as he did his duty. He pursued criminals and he dodged bullets and went home to an empty apartment. He trusted no one and cared for no one. He had been able to live in the labyrinth of deceit and treachery, skillfully maneuvering through the minefields of his world, but she had taken that from him. He had lost himself just as surely as she had lost who she was. He couldn’t think about losing her again; he doubted if he’d survive it either.
    His fingers bit into her hips. She was