Short Soup by Coleen Kwan Page B

him.
    “Sweetness …” He gasped, a bead of sweat rolling down his brow. “I don’t suppose you brought a condom with you?”
    “Oh … no.” Her hormones yelped in protest. No, she couldn’t survive if they didn’t consummate things soon. She’d go mad, mad with lust if they stopped now. “Dion, I – I’mgoing crazy here.” She rolled her hips again, felt the tip of his penis burn through the thin layers of cloth and a responding wetness flood the dip between her thighs.
    “Uhn.” He groaned, briefly closing his eyes. “What about me? I’m not exactly sane myself. But if we don’t have a condom …”
    “You could just, uh, y’know, ease yourself in.” She licked her lips desperately. “I just want to feel you inside me. We don’t have to move or anything.” She couldn’t believe what she was suggesting. How had she suddenly become such a raving sex addict?
    He groaned again. “You know that’s not going to work. Don’t tempt me, please.” He swiped the back of his arm across his perspiring brow, the cords of his neck straining under the tension. He gazed down at her a while longer, then burst out, “Oh, fuck, I can’t stand it any more.” With lightning speed he hooked his fingers into her bikini bottoms and pulled them right off. She let his knees spread her thighs wide apart. His hands traced the shape of her mound, his fingers brushing her pubic hairs before seeking the moistness in her folds. Kneeling over her, he bent his head, his mouth following where his fingers probed.
    A strangled gasp hissed from her lips. Did he know she’d never had sex this way? Her fingernails clawed at the sand. Everything was molten hot – the sand beneath her, the sun above her, Dion on top of her, and most of all his mouth. His tongue was searing as he lapped at her, penetrating her, opening up new pathways of desire she’d never experienced before. Her body responded instinctively, her back arching to give him greater access, her fingers tousling through his hair, her hips rising in time to his licking and sucking.
    Through the thudding blood in her ears came a vague pulsating noise from elsewhere. It sounded mechanical, and it was getting louder. Dazed, she lifted her head to see an enormous white boat rounding one of the headlands. It was one of the dolphin watching cruisers, and it was packed to the gills with sightseers as it prepared to motor past their beach.
    “Dion … Dion …” she panted.
    “Don’t worry,” he muttered. “I’ll get you there.” His tongue returned to her.
    The boat throbbed closer. Her flesh started to turn to jelly. Cameras winked in the sun, and people pointed at them.
    “N – no.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Uh, there’s a boat full of people passing us. We’re about to make the six o’clock news.” He lifted his head. She wanted to scream in frustration.
    “Bugger.” Dion picked her up in his arms and staggered behind the straggly bushes, where he collapsed onto the sand, laughing and heaving for breath. “That was close.” He chuckled, peering through the bushes to check the progress of the dolphin-watching cruiser before glancing back at her. She was stark naked, sand stuck into every crevice, her body still roaring for the pleasure he’d promised her. “Sweetie, we’ll have to take a raincheck on thegrand finale. That’s the eleven o’clock tour. We have to get back. I’m going to be really behind my prep work today.”
    “Oh no. It’s all my fault.” With a grimace she remembered her father urging her not to monopolise Dion’s time. She couldn’t even offer to help him because she’d be useless in the kitchen, and she knew he wouldn’t be asking his parents or hers for help. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have led you astray.”
    “I’m not sorry. I’m glad you’re leading me astray for a change.” Reaching out, he cradled one of her breasts in the palm of his hand. “Let me repeat, I’m very glad.” His husky voice and