Caught

His lips were gentle and warm, brushing oh-so-slowly over mine, every movement unhurried and sweet; not at all what I'd expected. But eventually, it sank into my addled mind he was biding his time, waiting for me to make the next move. Waiting for me to trust him, to accept that although he was kissing me, I was the one in charge of how far this went.

I began to kiss him back, the roar of the sea seeming to fade as I explored those soft, slightly salty lips, longing to taste him fully, to deepen the kiss. But it wasn't until I tentatively touched the tip of my tongue to his top lip that he welcomed me in. And then he groaned, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, his hands sliding into my hair as he took control...

Oh God... He could kiss, he could

really

kiss, I thought, a split second before I lost all ability to think and just surrendered to the pleasure. And even though this was probably the most awkward position in which I'd ever been kissed, the granite shelf hard beneath my left buttock, my upper body twisted round to face him, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered...

"

Well

," he murmured at last, drawing back to smile at me. "That was rather nice."

"Rath-rather nice?" I echoed, only to find my voice wasn't working at all, the words coming out as a whisper.

His smile widened. "Okay, much better than nice." He hesitated, his gaze still holding mine. "More?"

When I gave a dazed nod, he grinned then, to my astonishment, began lifting and turning me, handling me as though I weighed no more than a small child until finally I was straddled across his lap, my legs around his hips. "That's better," he said solemnly, raising my injured arm and positioning it safely out of the way across his shoulder. "Now I can kiss you properly."

Kiss me

properly

?

But the moment his lips reclaimed mine, I realised he'd been holding back... Ooh, this was good...

Much

too good... I'd heard of being ruined for all other men but I'd never realised it could apply to kissing. I never wanted it to end...

I'd thought Daniel was a great kisser--no, to be fair, he really

had

been a great kisser--but with him it was all part of a carefully co-ordinated performance, a big show to demonstrate his talent. He'd known he was great, and woe betide me if I didn't tell him so on a regular basis.

But Luke... This wasn't a show. This was barely-controlled passion, pure and simple. And if the growing bulge pressing against my inner thigh was anything to go by, the kiss was having just as big an effect on him as it was on me...

"Nah," I gulped when he eventually let me up for air, dropping my forehead against his shoulder. "That first time was just a fluke. You're crap at kissing."

His deep chuckle told me he knew I was lying. "Sorry, out of practice," he said, smoothing back my hair then brushing his mouth against my temple. "I enjoyed it anyway."

"So I see." Still breathless, I pulled back just enough to make it obvious I'd spotted what was going on between his legs then lifted my mischievous gaze to his. "So tell me, Foster. When

did

you last have a shag?"

He gave a snort of laughter, recognising the question Tim had asked when they'd been playing football on the beach. "Actually, it's been quite a while," he admitted, no hint of embarrassment in those amazing blue eyes. Then he grinned. "Why? Are you offering to end my dry spell?"

I stared back, suddenly speechless. Because although I'd been about to laugh it off, tease him a little--no, tease him a lot--then beg him to kiss me some more, now I wanted much more than another kiss. And as I turned to look at the box of condoms still perched on the ledge beside us, I saw his face break into an incredulous smile.

"Babe, you can't be serious.

Here

?"

"Why not?" I gazed at him, the idea taking root, raw desire spreading through my body like forest fire. "I'm young, free and single again, right? I could really use some meaningless sex. You need to get laid--"

"Excuse me?"

"--we've got time to kill. And God, I want you!"

"Now?" He shook his head, looking startled. "No--absolutely not!"

"But we've got protection--"

"You've got an arm injury that's going to need at least ten stitches--"

"Which stops hurting when you kiss me!"

"We're on a small rocky ledge with the sea all around us--"

"You don't want me?" I wailed, growing increasingly desperate.

"Oh, hell..." His deep groan became a laugh. "Of course I want you!" It was his turn to glance down at his groin. "Isn't it obvious? But this is neither the time nor the place. Kissing's one thing--whoa, God!" he added on a yell as I slid my left hand down between us and stroked the bulge in his shorts. "Hey! You're not playing fair!"

"Neither are you," I retorted, taken aback to hear the bold words coming out of my mouth. I hadn't been this assertive in years, I realised, reaching for his waistband. But I was right-handed and trying to prise him free by wriggling the fingers of my left hand beneath the elastic proved to be rather more difficult than I'd imagined...

"Okay, okay--you're killing me, woman!" he gasped at last, and suddenly, his fingers were there too, helping me push away the fabric until his cock sprang into my hand, firm and thick. "Fuck, I can't believe I'm helping you do this."

"Oh boy." I stared down at his cock, rather thrown by its size. It seemed Mother Nature had more than adequately compensated Luke for his lack of height. "Something tells me kissing isn't the only thing you're good at."

He hissed through his teeth as I wrapped my fingers around him, slowly stroking his full length. "I thought you said I was crap at kissing."

"I lied." I watched in fascination as his cock swelled even more beneath my touch, managing to maintain firm pressure as I continued to work up and down but finding it awkward--I'd never before realised how much I relied on my right hand for this. But judging by the noises he was making, his face contorting with pleasure, he wasn't at all disappointed by my clumsy technique.

"Wait," he groaned suddenly, catching my hand and holding it still. "I'm not going to last very long if you keep that up.

I gave him my most innocent smile. "So?"

"So..." He gave a growl then pulled me in for another kiss, his free hand sliding beneath the baggy sweatshirt he'd loaned me, warm against the bare skin of my back. Something loosened--my bikini top. He'd found the ties, his fingers already sweeping around to the front, easing away the material. And as he cupped my breast in his palm, brushing his thumb over my highly-sensitive nipple, I moaned into his mouth. I was completely at his mercy, my right arm slung over his shoulder, my left hand still trapped between his thighs.

"Gotcha," he said with a grin, pressing his forehead against mine. "Now what are you going to do?"

"Luke!" I gazed at him helplessly, more aroused than I'd ever been in my life, moisture pooling between my thighs. "Let me touch you."

"Uh uh." He shook his head, grinning. "It's my turn to play." Releasing my breast, his fingers travelled downwards, skimming across my ribcage, over the slight swell of my belly. He watched my face, moving with an agonising lack of haste, heightening my anticipation to fever pitch, only to let his hand slide away when he finally reached the waistband of my bikini bottoms.

"Hey!" I groaned, my sense of disappointment acute. But then I saw he was reaching for the jumbo box of condoms.

Oh

...

We were really going to do this? On this slab of granite, to the accompaniment of the crashing waves? It wasn't that I'd been joking about wanting him--God only knew how turned on I was, how much I was longing to feel him inside me. But the practicalities of having sex up here were dawning on me fast... How exactly were we going to manage it? Because at least one of us was surely going to end up with bruised and battered knees. Caught between a rock and a hard place, as it were...

Seemingly untroubled by any such thoughts, Luke grinned, letting go of my hand so he could pull away the cellophane wrapper and open the carton. "Hmm," he murmured, examining the contents. "So much to choose from. I can't decide. Lucky dip?" he suggested, holding the box under my nose. "But no peeking 'til it's on. Deal?"

Grimacing, I closed my eyes, wiggled my thumb and finger into the carton and passed him one of the tiny packets. "It's a fruity one, right?" I said, sighing when he chuckled, hearing the foil tear then feeling the movement of his fingers as he smoothed the latex over his cock. "Banana? Strawberry?" But before I could look I felt his hands at my hips, working at the ties securing my briefs. And then he was lifting me, reaching beneath me, pulling away that tiny scrap of scarlet fabric...

"Oh God! Wait!" I cried, heat rushing into my face as I suddenly recalled what he was about to discover... How the hell could I have forgotten? "Luke--please--" But it was too late. He was already exploring my wetness, caressing my ridiculously over-sensitised pussy, the pleasure intense--actually, make that pretty damn close to excruciating... "

O-o-ohh

!"

I saw the flash of comprehension in his eyes, his incredulous smile. "Well, well, well," he murmured, laughing softly. "This is a new look for you, I take it? Very nice."

"Very stupid," I groaned, helpless beneath his skilled assault, aware of just how slick I already was. "I--I had it done--

oh

!--for the wedding."

"For Daniel?" His gaze narrowed. "You did this--you went through all that pain--for that bastard?"

"I know." Dear God, he was good at this too... shorter strokes then longer ones, moving faster then slower again, bringing me close--oh so close--before sliding away again. "Like I said--stu-u-

pid

..."

"But hot." He grinned. "Very hot. Did it hurt?"

"Like you wouldn't believe. I actually bled. I'm never having it done again--oh stop it!" I gulped as he began to laugh again. "I've never been so embarrassed in all my life. The positions you have to get into..." It was becoming increasingly difficult to talk, his fingers moving without mercy, the pitch of my voice rising higher and higher. "This little German woman did it--I think she was crazy. I wanted to leave a strip but she kept saying, 'Nein, nein, it all comes off'. And even though I was screaming she just kept going."

He shot me another disbelieving glance, his hand stilling abruptly, cupping my naked pussy. "There's no hair left down here at all? Anywhere?" He frowned, one long digit slipping further back to check. "Not even--"

"No!" I gasped, both horrified and thrilled he was touching me there. "None. But then that's why they call it the full Hollywood wax. Hey--" I whimpered, squirming against him, trying to move his fingers back to where I wanted them most...

Throwing me a wicked smile, he removed his hand altogether, pushing me away slightly and lowering his head for a closer look. "My God," he murmured, sounding rather hoarse as he came back up. "So I'm the only one who'll ever get to see this?"

"You and the three women who held me down in the beauty salon. Luke--please!" I wailed, desperately aroused, bereft without his touch. "Please--oohhh!"

I shrieked as he lifted me, tipping me against his chest as he leaned backwards, pulling me flush against him with one arm, feeling beneath me with his other hand, opening me. And suddenly, the blunt end of his cock was there, nudging hard against the entrance to my pussy...

"

Oh

!" I sobbed as he slowly lowered me down, impaling me inch by glorious inch. "Luke!"

He was filling me more than I'd ever been filled before, stretching me almost painfully wide, my unaccustomed pussy struggling to accommodate his girth. And maybe it was just the position we were in, but I couldn't remember any other man burying himself quite so deep, sinking further and further inside me...

"Fuck," he groaned as he finally bottomed out, gazing at me with undisguised delight. "You're tight!"

I shook my head, almost too overwhelmed to speak. "You're--you're

huge

," I managed at last.

"I'm hurting you?"

"No..." Though the sensation wasn't exactly pleasurable either and judging by the concern displayed in those piercing blue eyes, it wasn't the first time he'd felt the need to ask that question. I could feel every bit of him, as firm and unyielding as the rock beneath us. I tried a smile. "Just--just, don't move for a second."

He nodded, smiling back rather ruefully. "Come here," he murmured, pushing his hand into my hair and pulling me closer, gently capturing my lips with his own. Kissing me again--oh, how he kissed me! Chasing away all thought of discomfort, all recollection of where we were, all sense of time. So I couldn't have told anyone how long it was before I heard Luke's deep chuckle, before I realised I was rocking over him, uselessly gyrating against him, trying to create some movement but finding that in this position I had no manoeuvrability at all. And then I felt his hands at my hips, his fingers splaying across my buttocks, the tension in his arms as he lifted me...

"Oh my God!" I cried as he dropped me down again, his cock ramming home, a surge of delicious pleasure washing over me. But even before I could catch my breath, he was raising me up again...

"God, you feel good!" he groaned, settling into a steady rhythm, driving deeper and harder, the sweet friction of each stroke making me whimper helplessly. "Much too good. I'm sorry, babe--I'm not going to last!"

Neither was I. It seemed I needn't have worried how we were going to do this. He was doing all the work, his arms amazingly strong, lifting me over and over, rendering me powerless to his will. I couldn't have determined the pace even if I wanted to, my legs still curled around his hips, my arms around his neck. But I

didn't

want to, the lack of control only serving to increase my arousal, heighten my need, my orgasm already beginning, that wonderful pressure building low in my belly.

"Luke!" I gasped, needing to tell him, needing him to know what he was doing to me, how he was making me feel... "Oh God, Luke! I'm going to--I'm going to--o-

oohh

!"

My orgasm hit with all the force of an express train, seeming to flood my entire being with heat, my pussy contracting violently around his cock. And somewhere, as though far away, I heard his answering shout, his thrusts becoming increasingly erratic until he plunged deep one last time, his body growing rigid beneath mine.

I've no idea how long it was before I regained my senses, only that when I did, I found myself wrapped in Luke's arms, my head on his shoulder, his softening cock still buried inside me.

"That's a first," he murmured, the note of amusement obvious in his voice.

I managed a weak laugh, the effort almost exhausting me. "Having sex on the rocks?"

He chuckled, stroking my hair. "Well yeah, but that wasn't what I was going to say."

"Having sex with a woman you've only just met?"

There was a brief silence. "No," he admitted, still sounding amused. "Though you're the first woman I've been with in a very long time."

Feeling an inexplicable rush of jealousy at the thought of him being with any other woman but me, I longed to ask him how long. "What then?" I murmured instead, frantically tamping down the urge.

"I've never had sex with a woman and not known her name."

Oh

... I smiled, despite myself. "I told you. You can choose. What did I say again? Gullible, Sucker--"

"You don't want to tell me your real name?"

God, yes, I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him

everything

... What the hell was wrong with me? It was less than a week since my aborted wedding--a week in which I'd thought I still loved Daniel, despite all that had happened, a week in which I'd thought my heart would never recover... "It's Rebecca," I said at last.

"Becky, eh?"

"No..." I lifted my head off his shoulder but found it hard to pretend to be annoyed when I saw his grin. "I said

Rebecca

. Only my friends get to call me Becky."

"Is that so?" His grin widened. "But you said I could choose. And anyway, I think I've earned the right to call you whatever I want."

"Is that so?" I repeated, attempting an icy glare and knowing I was failing miserably. "How do you work that out?"

"Hmm." He rolled his eyes. "I saved you from drowning--"

"I wouldn't have drowned--I'm a really good swimmer--"

"Yeah, it looked like it. Besides, even the strongest swimmer would struggle against that rip--"

"I wouldn't even have been down there if it hadn't been for--"

"Oh, here we go again--"

"What the hell

is

a rip?"

"And of course, without me, you'd have bled to death."

I pulled my arm away from his shoulder, rather stunned I'd almost forgotten about my injury, the initial sharp pain having subsided to a dull ache. "You said it wasn't a lot of blood," I murmured, peering up my sleeve at the bandage, relieved to see it was still pristinely white.

Luke caught my hand, looking up my sleeve for himself. "Enough to make you faint." He shot me a teasing smile then kissed my fingers. "Why can't you cope with the sight of blood anyway?"

"Because I was in a car accident when I was ten. My Mum and my sister and me--we were all fine. Just bruises. But Dad was killed outright. He wasn't wearing a seatbelt. Massive head injuries. Lots of blood." I swallowed hard, recollecting the sight of the spattered windscreen as though it were yesterday. But then it'd haunted my dreams ever since... "What's a rip?"

"Oh God." His smile faded abruptly. "I'm so sorry--"

"No--" Those ridiculous tears were back in my eyes again. Why on earth had I told him? "You-you weren't to know. What's a rip?"

He sighed, his arms folding back around me, his lips brushing against my temple. "It's a strong current," he said quietly. "If you get caught in one you can get swept out to sea. You can't always see them, that's why they're so dangerous. Didn't you see the danger sign on the way down?"

I shook my head. But then I'd been so delighted to see that sapphire-blue sea, so thrilled to feel the healing warmth of the sun on my skin, I'd focussed only on getting to the beach and finding myself a sheltered spot in which to lie. "I came here because I thought it was safe," I murmured, hearing the irony in my own words. "We came here on holiday one summer, the year before Dad died. I loved it. You know how some times in your life just stick out in your memory as truly magical?" I bit my lip when he nodded. "Well that was one of those times. I've been meaning to come back here for years, but Daniel was never keen. He likes guaranteed wall-to-wall sunshine on his holidays."

"Ah. Not something you can ever guarantee in Cornwall. I've spent many a wet week here. And I can't feel my legs."

"What? Oh..." Startled, I yanked my head away from his shoulder and tried--unsuccessfully--to lift myself off him. "I'm sorry--"

"Don't be," he said with a chuckle, seizing me around the waist to hoist me upwards then groaning as his already semi-recovered cock slipped out of me and popped up between us. "I'm just sorry we can't do it again. But I don't think my arse could take it." He removed the used condom--just a plain ordinary one, I noted with some amusement--and pulled his shorts back up. Then, still holding me firm in his lap, he swung his legs to the side of the ledge then eased me around until I was sitting beside him, the smooth rock startlingly cold beneath my bare bottom. "Oh for a comfy bed, a bottle of champagne and a can of whipped cream. Where are you staying?"

A can of whipped cream?

"The--the White Sands Hotel," I stammered.

"Excellent. That's where we're staying too."

He wanted more? Oh boy...

But Luke was still speaking. "That means I can take you to the hospital to get stitched up, then I can go and join the others when we get back. They won't moan too much if I leave some money for drinks."