“You absolutely did.” His chest vibrates with another laugh. “Like a tiny, startled mouse.”
The broken chair frame digs into my knee, and I shift to avoid it, inadvertently causing him to slide deeper inside me. Our laughter falters as pleasure replaces amusement.
“You okay?” he asks, his hands finding my hips.
“Better than okay,” I murmur, rolling my hips experimentally. The new angle sends sparks of sensation up my spine. “Though I think we've officially destroyed the chair.”
“We”ll buy a new one,” he groans as I begin to rock against him. “We'll buy ten.”
My head falls back, hair cascading down my spine as I find a rhythm that makes us both gasp. The ocean breeze caresses my naked skin, cooling the sweat that forms as we move together on the broken remains of the lounge chair.
Soren's hands guide my hips, helping me find the perfect angle as I ride him. His eyes never leave mine, watching with reverent hunger as I take my pleasure from his body.
“You're everything. Everything I never knew I needed.”
The tenderness in his voice contrasts with the urgency of our bodies, creating a perfect balance of love and desire that pushes me toward the edge again. I lean down to capture his mouth, our tongues tangling as our bodies surge together. His hands slide up my back, tangling in my hair as he deepens the kiss.
We reach our climax together this time, my body clenching around him as he pulses inside me. I collapse against his chest, our hearts racing in tandem as we struggle to catch our breath. His arms wrap around me, holding me close as aftershocks ripple through both our bodies.
“I think,” I manage between gasps, “we may need to invest in sturdier furniture.”
Soren chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath my cheek. “Or we could just stick to the bed from now on.”
“Where's the fun in that?” I trace lazy circles on his chest, feeling utterly content despite our ungraceful landing on the deck boards. “Besides, Shadow would never allow it.”
As if summoned by his name, an indignant yowl echoes from inside the house. Through the sliding glass door, I can see Shadow pacing back and forth, his tail twitching with obvious displeasure at being locked out of whatever we're doing.
“Poor baby,” I laugh, sitting up carefully. “He's probably wondering why we're wrestling on the deck without him.”
Soren's hands slide down my sides, reluctant to let me go. “Let him wonder. I'm not sharing you with that furry dictator right now.”
I lean down to kiss him softly, tasting myself on his lips. “We should probably get cleaned up before the neighbors start their morning jogs.”
“What neighbors?” He gestures toward the empty stretch of beach. “The seagulls?”
“Mrs. Henderson walks her dog every morning at nine,” I remind him, glancing at the sun's position. “And it's probably close to that now.”
As if on cue, the distant sound of barking drifts down the beach. Soren groans, helping me to my feet as we both scramble to gather our scattered clothes. The barking grows closer,accompanied by the rhythmic thud of jogging feet on packed sand.
“Shit,” I mutter, pulling his t-shirt over my head while Soren hops on one foot, trying to get into his sweatpants. “She's early today.”
“Or we lost track of time,” he says, finally managing to get dressed. He kicks the broken chair frame behind a large planter, though it does little to hide the evidence of our activities.
I'm smoothing down my hair when Mrs. Henderson's white terrier comes bounding up the beach access stairs, followed by the seventy-year-old woman herself. She's dressed in a bright pink tracksuit, her silver hair perfectly styled despite the ocean breeze.
“Good morning, Charlotte!” she calls out cheerfully, apparently oblivious to our disheveled appearance. “Beautiful day for being outside, isn't it?”
“Morning, Mrs. Henderson,” I reply, hoping I sound normal and not like a woman who was just sexed senseless on her deck. “Yes, it's gorgeous.”
Soren clears his throat, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Ma'am,” he nods politely.
Mrs. Henderson's eyes drift to the broken chair frame barely concealed behind the planter, then back to us with a knowing smile that makes my cheeks burn. “Having some furniture troubles, dear?”
“The wind,” I say quickly, heat flooding my cheeks. “It was...really windy this morning.”
Mrs. Henderson's smile widens. “Oh yes, I can see that. The wind can be quite...vigorous around here. Especially in the mornings.”
Soren coughs, clearly fighting back laughter. “Very vigorous,” he agrees solemnly.
