...Terri woke with a start and shook off the dream images. She glanced over her shoulder at the man behind her. He snored, one arm flung around her waist, and one hairy leg nudged between her own as he slept spoon-like, pressed against her back.

His thick lashes created shadows on the high ridge of his cheekbones. Women, she included, spent a fortune on mascara in the attempt to achieve what he had naturally. Figures.

She needed to get up, start her daily run along the beach. Maybe look for his missing ball cap, too, since it seemed so important to him. But when she tried to shift out of the bed, he pulled her back and pressed his lips to her ear lobe. Something much larger pressed her rump.

“Good morning, milis,” he whispered in her ear. His hands glided over her breasts, cupping them.

“Milis?”

“Sweet.” His mouth grazed her shoulder, while his thumbs and forefingers rolled her nipples.

“So I’m sweet, huh?” She wiggled backward.

“My sweet.” His hands slid lower, to her hips, her thighs, and the delicious, sudden ache between her legs.

Okay, so her run would be a little late today. Sometimes you just had to go with the flow. She smiled, loving how he touched her. Destin instinctively zeroed in on another hot button on her body.

How could she feel so comfortable, so close to a man she’d just met? It felt right. He felt right. Like they’d been together forever, each knowing exactly how to please the other.

He guided one of her legs over his, and with a roll of his powerful hips, thrust—all the way to the hilt.

“Ohh…” She closed her eyes, and concentrated on the tight stretch of him inside her. He kept the strokes long, slow, and deep. A knotted coil of tension built at her core, forced her to squirm and push back harder against his cock.

“Touch yourself for me. I want to see your fingers glisten with your cream.”

She did as he asked, her fingers parting her folds. And heard his loud groan of approval. Encouraged, she caught the nub of flesh between finger and thumb. She tugged—rubbed it faster, grinding her backside into his pelvis, desperate for release. She mewled like a cat in heat.

“Yes. Come for me, milis.” He met her backward motion with a forward one of his own. Before long, he was slamming into her with near bruising force.

She couldn’t think. She could only feel. The friction of her fingers on her clit. Her other fingers stroking his cock, as she caressed his slick shaft every time he pulled partially out.

Her sudden cry pierced the air. She shook from the intensity, then waves from the aftershock rushed over her. He slowed his rhythm, drawing a whimper from her trembling lips.

He took one of her hands, guided it to his mouth, and sucked each finger—tasting her essence—all the while pounding her pussy, seeking his own heavy release. Her internal muscles clenched hard on his cock, trembled at the continued invasion.

“Please…oh mercy…” she begged, not even aware of what she pleaded for.

He stopped, pulled out, turned her around so that she faced him, and gathered her into his arms. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She was a fool, an idiot. She didn’t know why she was crying. He hadn’t hurt her. On the contrary, he’d given her the most intense orgasm of her life.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed him…leaned back, and smiled through her tears. He licked them away with the tip of his tongue, then carried her into the bathroom. He set her on her feet long enough to turn on the water in the shower. The room grew steamy.

“I’ll try to be more gentle. But I still want you—need you—so damn bad.” He shut the shower door, backed her onto the tiled wall, and reached for the bar of soap on the ledge.

“You don’t have to go slow or be gentle. I want to feel it when you fuck me. Hard, fast—I just want you.” She watched him shudder, his eyes darken and dilate.

He gave her the bar of soap. “Take me in your hands, Terri. Show me what pleases you.”