Free Sea of Love: A Bayberry Island Novel by Susan Donovan

the sea and through their bodies. She felt his breath on her face. It would be so easy just to grab his head, force his lips onto hers, and kiss him until he begged for mercy. No one would ever know. But the window for that kind of outrageous act was rapidly closing. Another few seconds and one—or both—of them would come to their senses, apologize, and shove each other away. Rowan knew that if she didn’t make her move now . . .
    “Oh, fuck it,” he whispered.
    “God, yes!”
    Ash lowered his mouth onto hers. He shoved his fingers into her wet hair, angled her face exactly how he wanted, then kissed her with such perfection that her mind went blank. Rowan felt everything suddenly stop—her blood, her breath, her rational thought, her awareness of anything but
him
. His kiss was tender but without a trace of hesitation. This was a man who knew what he was doing, knew what he wanted. And it was clear that Ashton Louis Wallace III wanted her.
    Rowan raised her hands to touch him. He felt so damn good beneath her fingers. His back, upper arms, and shoulders were built from hard muscle and smooth skin. His neck was strong. She figured it was her turn to be bold, so she yanked on his hair and took the kiss where she needed it to go.
    Total pleasure. Her entire being was nothing but a nerve ending designed to receive pleasure. She felt out of control, wrapping a leg around his and then slipping her hands down his muscular back to his ass. This was already so outrageous that Rowan figured it didn’t matter what she did next—so she grabbed his booty, pulled him tighter to her, and arched her back.
    Two thoughts penetrated the lustful fog in her brain. The first was that this was prime man beneath her hands and on top of her body. The second was that her dry spell was about to end, and probably with a lot more than a trickle.
    “Are you sure?” He asked this question in between her increasingly demanding kisses.
    “I’m sure.” Rowan pushed up into him again, feeling his long and hard arousal poke against her sweet spot. At least it used to be her sweet spot. For too long it had been just another spot.
    Thunder pounded. Lightning cracked and flashed. Rowan groaned with disappointment when Ash removed his lips from hers, but sighed with relief when he ripped what remained of her sopping-wet shirt from her body, then unhooked the front closure of her bra faster than she ever could. Immediately, his hands were on her breasts, teasing her nipples, pulling and flicking at them until she cried out. The way he handled her was so . . .
carnal
.
    Ash stopped. He raised his face just as another strobe of light filled the apartment. That’s when she saw the single-minded glint in his eyes. Ash was a man on a mission. He lowered his mouth to her nipples, left then the right, back and forth he went, tugging and sucking until Rowan began squirming beneath him.
    “Too much?” he asked, his voice husky in the darkness.
    Lightning illuminated the room again, and Rowan shook her head. She had to shout over the thunder. “Take my pants off! Please!”
    He pushed up to his knees, and Rowan lifted her hips off the floor to assist him. It was then that a series of lightning hits created several seconds of on-again-off-again illumination, allowing Rowan to get her first good look at Ash’s naked body as he threw her soaking-wet jeans across the room.
    Damn
. Pure male perfection. Big across the chest and shoulders, defined arms, flat and hard abs rippling as he moved, and . . . She stopped breathing. Her eyes went big. Rowan slammed her palms onto the old wood floor and tossed her head back, thanking the storm gods for washing this truly gifted man upon the shores of Bayberry Island.
    Pants gone. Arms wrapped tight around her back. Ash’s mouth went back where it belonged, on hers, as he lifted her off the floor.
    “Spread your legs.”
    That would work for her.
    “Wider. Open your legs wider.”
    Rowan flipped her legs up