Making Waves (Mythological Lovers) (6 page)

“Maybe I want them to know you are mine.” Dante’s nostrils flared on his next breath, making it apparent he smelled my arousal. It turned him on as much as his touch made me wet with longing.

His index finger split my folds and delved inside, penetrating my body to the knuckle. I gasped.
Holy shit.
Part of me wanted to say fuck it all and let him carry through with the promised threat. Molten heat rushed to my core, the muscles squeezing him instinctively and holding to the intruding digit.

He fingered me at my front door, where anyone walking by could see it. With only his large frame between me and any passing onlookers, I felt exposed. Sexy. On fire for him and completely at his mercy. My back arched against the door and my eyes squeezed shut as the tension wound tighter and tighter.

“Dante,” I half moaned, my voice sounding like a whine.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” I protested, grabbing frantically at his shoulders.

I was a rubber band close to the breaking point, but a single flick of his thumb against my clit pushed me over the edge. I shattered and came apart, struggling for air, my breath a keening cry against his shoulder.

It felt like the entire world should have known what he was doing, or heard me screaming, but when I finally opened my eyes again, I saw the winding path in front of my house was vacant. My neighbors’ dune buggy was absent from their drive, and hell if I knew when they’d left.

A snap sounded between us as he unbuttoned his board shorts.

God, he was serious about fucking me right here.
“No, no, no!” I panicked. “Inside, Dante. The bed. Please.”

Before I could utter another word, we were inside and he was tossing me onto my bed. My undignified sprawl had my skirt bunched up around my waist and the spaghetti straps hanging off my shoulders. Dante’s eyes roved over me as I peeled my dress down and pushed it past my hips. The rumpled cotton ended up on the floor.

He shrugged off his unbuttoned shirt and let the garment drop to the floor. His board shorts followed.

Oh. My. God.

Dante was long and thick like I’d imagined, surpassing my expectations. The upward curve of his heavy erection revealed a glistening tip, slick with precum. My mouth watered for it, but the survivalist in me thought I’d suffocate trying to blow him.

He’s a water horse and he’s hung like a horse. Oh, God, what am I getting myself into? How is all of that going to fit into me?
To calm myself, I had to let the giggles out.

Dante lowered one knee to the bed between my spread thighs. His dick swayed with the movement before he paused. “What’s so funny?”

The dark hair surrounding his cock was soft and silky to my exploring fingers, rather than coarse and curly. “It’s nothing. I’ve just, uh, never been with anyone so large.”

I wrapped my fingers around his thick shaft, measuring the girth. My index and thumb didn’t touch — I’d always used it as a measure of how large my boyfriends compared to one another.

Dante was the most impressive by far.

At first, a smug grin spread across his face. The expression faded when I gave his dick a teasing pump, gliding my hand down to his base and up to the tip again. Without a word he tugged my panties down my legs. He didn’t move again.

“Dante?”

Blue eyes studied me, inspiring every self-conscious thought I’d ever had when falling into bed with a guy. Were my breasts too small? Did he hate the handful of silver marks crawling over my too wide hips? Or was he loathing the wax job and close trim grooming my fiery red curls into a perfect triangle?

“Your ass isn’t fat,” he said suddenly, heat in his voice.

“Huh?”

“You believed the jackass when he said it. But I’m telling you, he was wrong.” His mouth lowered to my hip bone and set me aflame with unabashed desire.

Anticipation welled in my belly as Dante continued his journey across my thigh, nibbling as he moved closer to the middle. Just as I thought he intended to bury his face between my legs, he veered off. Small kisses touched my hip then he nipped me playfully.

“There isn’t one part of your body that isn’t perfect, Alessa. Thank you.”

A day ago, I’d been terrified, expecting awkward sex, silence, and failure to make eye contact. Instead, I felt the same tenderness and affection between us, translating easily from platonic friendship into sensuality.

“You don’t have to thank me, Dante.”

The blunt tip of him tested my entrance, easing into my body’s grip with one inch then another. I trembled.

“Don’t tease me,” I groaned.

“I’m not teasing,” he grunted back. He stilled momentarily and set his weight above me on one arm. “Are you... sure you’re not a virgin?”

“What? No!”

Dante relaxed visibly, but sweat beaded at his brow. I raised one hand to run my thumb over his gleaming temple. As a personal reminder, I told myself he was huge, and while I was definitely wet enough, I’d never had a man as well-endowed as him. “It’s been a while, but I’m not a virgin. Why?”

“You’re so tight.”

“You’re so big,” I teased back once I found my courage to flirt. “And... I want to feel every inch of you.” My breath shuddered in and out. “Just do it. I won’t break.”

Dante slammed home with one fluid stroke. We fit together perfectly as if by design, my body stretched to accommodate every hard inch. My new lover smothered my ragged moan with a kiss then fell into an even, vigorous tempo.

His movements didn’t allow time to adjust to the new intrusion. He made a slick backstroke then thrust forward anew, bumping me upward on the bed. The comforter bunched and wrinkled beneath my naked back then his body stretched over mine. The friction of my stiffened nipples against his chest made me writhe beneath him.

“You feel so good,” he growled against my ear. “Tell me it’s the same for you.”

I could barely think, let alone speak, distracted as another toe-curling stroke made stars burst behind my eyes. I ran my fingers up and down his back, feeling the muscles rippling beneath his bronzed skin.

“Tell me, Alessa,” he ordered. “Tell me what you want.”

“H-harder.”

“‘Lessa...”

“I can take it. I
like
it hard.”

He withdrew until only the crowned tip remained, leaving me woefully empty, craving him.

“Dan—” He snapped forward again, filling me, gone, then back once more, hammering my body until the bed rattled against the wall behind my head. I arched beneath him and cried out, thrusting my breasts toward his descending mouth.

No man had ever touched me so deeply, and with each bang of his tip against the back of my walls, there was a sense of undeniable satisfaction amidst fleeting hints of discomfort. We moved together in a frenzied fervor, bodies colliding in splendid rhythm.

“Yes!” I encouraged. He released my nipple with a soft pop, exposing it to the cool bedroom air. He moved to the next, repeated his tease, and traced the tip with his tongue.

His hips rocked to mine over and over, amazing me with his stamina. His tireless endurance. Just as he brought me to the brink, Dante circled his hips and struck me somewhere new, soaring me higher towards bliss.

“Dante, don’t stop, don’t stop, baby.” Tension coiled throughout my entire frame, a slow build he stoked with each powerful press into my hot depths.

My orgasm outside didn’t hold a candle to this one. The spasms started small, little firecracker sparks that crackled through my veins to every limb. The slow burn erupted into an inferno, pleasure seizing me in its grasp. As my core clenched around his cock, trapped in the throes of orgasm, Dante muttered against my cheek. He jerked, and then the telltale pulse of his cock preceded his heat flowing into me.

I tightened my thighs and dug my heels into his ass, wanting him deeper, needing more of him. Dante reached beneath my thigh and bent the knee to my chest. The change of angle and increased depth took me by surprise, bringing delicious friction against my sensitive clit. He grinded desperately, fucking through our mutual climax until I came again. Ecstasy rocketed through straight to the tips of my curling toes.

The noises coming from me sounded inhuman, unrecognizable to my own ears. He silenced them with a kiss until the sensation overcame him as well. We breathed each other’s air, our passionate cries mingling as one until we both stilled.

Dante lingered atop me long after his cock went flaccid, though it remained within my body’s embrace. He pushed up, bracing his weight on both elbows, and peered down at me. With our faces close, I gazed into his blue eyes and smoothed the dark hair from his brow.

Words couldn’t convey how I felt, so I said nothing at all. We shared gentle touches, soft kisses, and lingering caresses as we cuddled against the sheets.

We didn’t need sex talk and flirtations promising more; actions said everything for us.

Sleep pulled Dante under first, leaving me wide awake beside him, blissfully spent and sore, but too keyed up to close my eyes and rest. I watched his chest move up and down then trailed my fingers over his pecs. The fine dark hair was soft beneath my fingers, his muscles firm, every inch of him absolute perfection.

My Dante. Mine. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to lose this now that I have it. Maybe we’re doing things out of order, maybe it’s reckless, but I want this so bad.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks and curled up against him, resting one arm across his body. I no longer wanted to give him a baby; I wanted it to be our child to raise together. Somehow, there had to be a way to make my hopes a reality.

When exhaustion finally came, my dreams were of an infant with his blue eyes.

***

I
awakened to the aroma of bacon grease and butter. Dante, naked in my kitchen, stood at the stove with a spatula while cooking breakfast.

“Aren’t you brave. Not afraid of stray oil pops?” I asked.

“Nope. Get back into bed.”

“Back into bed? But you’re almost done.”

“I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed.”

My rumbling belly protested his orders, but I moved from the kitchen to the bedroom. The floor was cool under my feet, my personal air conditioning unit limited to the bedroom only. I gratefully slid into bed and into the vacant spot left by his body. It was warm and smelled like Dante, of the ocean and surf. Nestling against it, I inhaled his scent with my eyes shut until approaching footsteps signaled his return.

He carried in a tray loaded with my best dishes. A single blush-colored orchid claimed my only vase. Where the hell did he get an orchid when there wasn’t a single flower in my house and he was still naked?

“Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t eat bacon, remember?”

“You got up to make breakfast for only me?”

My plate was massive, the serving size double what I’d normally consume. He’d neatly arranged four fried eggs beside six slices of bacon. Two pieces of buttered toast glistened beneath a generous spread of passion fruit jelly.

The uncertain smile on his face diminished until a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said, quick to assuage his worries. “This is great. A lot, but great.”

“You are eating for two.”

For a moment I stared at him, then I burst out into giggles. “Wow, you really don’t know much about making babies, do you?”

Dante stared at me and folded his arms over his chest. His flawless, wondrously sculpted chest. My eyes homed in on it and lost focus on until he spoke up again. “Enlighten me.”

“Well, for starters, even if you did manage to knock me up the first time, I don’t have to eat for two, as you say, until I’m a little further in.”

“This is our breeding season. Before males even mate to their fillies, they fatten them as much as possible,” he explained. “Then if food is scarce during the journey home, their milk won’t decrease and we won’t risk losing the newly-birthed foals.”

“No need to worry about food scarcity here.” I beamed at him. “We have McDonalds on the island. I’m going to have a Big Mac pregnancy.”

My joke coaxed a smile to his face. “And overpriced mahi mahi burgers,” he said.

I ate as much as I could, stuffing myself on the crispy bacon then licking my fingers clean.

“That was delicious.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

I carried my own dishes to the sink despite his attempts to fuss over me. Over the course of our friendship, he’d spent countless nights at my place, but he’d never tried to serve me like a naked manservant. I wished he had. It would have bloated his ego if he knew I mourned the loss of the years I could have had him standing by as an oiled cabana boy bringing me tea and chocolates.

“So are you free for dinner tonight?” I asked when I caught him stepping into his discarded board shorts in the bedroom.

“I’m booked this evening.”

“Oh.” I bit my bottom lip and fiddled with my alarm clock. I wasn’t due to return to work until Monday and had hoped to spend the entire weekend with him.

“But I can cancel.”

“No, don’t do that.” I forced a smile to my face and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Do you want your shirt back?” His blue and white, Hawaiian print shirt fit me like a gown, reaching my mid-thigh.

“Nah. Don’t need it for private surf lessons.”

I controlled my expression, but I couldn’t control the red-hot torrent of jealousy scorching through me. With a forced smile, I nodded and trailed with him to the door. “Tomorrow then?”

“Sure.”

I waited for him to kiss me, but it never came. Dante hugged me, ran his fingers through my sleep-tousled hair, and stepped outside onto the porch. “Relax today, Alessa. You earned some rest, and I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

Relax. Right. Like I’ll get any of that done while last night’s events play through my mind on repeat.

~Alessa~

I
n hindsight, I realized it was stupid to make plans for a weekend with a guy without discussing those plans first. But it didn’t change how much I wished he’d kissed me goodbye.

“I thought you were going to be busy this weekend?” Pam said.