T is for Temptation Read Online Free PDF Page A

pulsing, skittering sweat, and frenetic, frantic need.
    Birds called, water cuffed the raft’s edges, skin slapped against damp skin. Jake’s hands and his mouth reached everywhere all at once. Tee’s craving surged with every suck, every lick, every nip. Every female instinct plugged in, and she ground her pelvis across his, rubbing slick folds up and down, her very writhing a begging plea for penetration, possession.
    “Jesus, Tee. Babe, slow down. I want to make it good for you.”
    “Now,” she exhorted, squirming and angling until she felt his hot flesh where she wept, aching, needy.
    “Jesus.”
    His moan and the feel of him there, hard and exciting, supplanted every defensive civilized barrier ever raised. Her hips rose of their own volition, and the apex of his cock sank inside. Her muscles contracted and spasmed, and Tee screamed, mindless as rationality exploded into oceanic, hedonistic delight. Wave after wave took her, and so wrapped up was she in her first experience of sexuality, that it took long moments for the pain to register.
    When it did, she bucked, which intensified the burning, and she wriggled, trying to find a better angle.
    “Tee?”
    Jake’s shocked question stilled all movement, and panic froze her brain.
    “Jesus.” He breathed, and his lips rumbled across her temple, the faint contact sending shivers down her spine. “I’m sorry, babe.”
    He grasped her hips with both hands and exerted pressure. “Don’t move. Don’t move.”
    All at once, insecurity and her shaky self-confidence reared, and Tee blinked away the moisture in the corners of her eyes. She shifted, trying to edge away from him.
    “Do I stop, Tee?” He touched his mouth to her temple. “Tell me now. I can’t hang on any longer.”
    “No, no. Don’t stop, don’t,” she growled and wriggled her hips, arching up, cupping his buttocks, pressing him closer.
    “Thank God. I’ll make it up, I promise,” he groaned and eased out, a millimeter at a time.
    All at once bereft, she urged him back and moaned at the sweetness, the tightness, the awareness of every inch of him. “Oh my. Oh, more, please, more.”
    “Jesus, babe, I can’t hold back. Tell me if it hurts. Tell me.”
    And he filled her again, a smooth sliding, yet an exquisite friction, another slow withdrawal, a quicker reentry. And her panting and gasps intensified as his pace escalated.
    Soreness succumbed to the fierce, savage pleasure of his rhythmic plundering, the wonderful thrusts, in, out, the measured slapping of flesh. Every sensual aspect contributed: the whipping wind, the seagulls squawking, the aroma of musk and brine, the damp sheen on their skin, the sweet friction everywhere.
    Her hips grappled and met his pounding flesh, returning pressure with slick invitation, intensity with frenzied greed, seeking absolution, eternal gratification, and finding it when he shouted, “Yes!”
    His hands forced her to him, the joining so intimate, so engaged, so rapt, they both collapsed, unaware of their surroundings. Every sense magnified beneath her closed lids, the sun’s blazing rays sizzling over sensitive skin, the raft’s gentle rocking creating a saccharine chafing of flesh against flesh, fine-tuned to the exquisite joined juncture between her thighs. A bead of Jake’s sweat plopped onto her shoulder, his hard chest grazed hers, the fine hairs there tickling a sultry caress.
    The low hum of an engine penetrated Tee’s delicious trance. She didn’t want to open her eyes, so she took a deep breath, and he smelled so wonderful, all male and sweaty with a faint hint of civilization, some musky aftershave. Temptation proved irresistible, and she licked his chest, tasting salt and sea and man, succumbing to his me-caveman-you-woman seduction.
    “I can’t believe how much you turn me on,” he muttered and rose on his elbows, leveraging his weight off her.
    Tee couldn’t believe how much disappointment the slight move caused. She reveled in his