Ocean's Touch (7 page)

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Authors: Denise Townsend

BOOK: Ocean's Touch
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Meredith gasped at the sight of Dylan’s fist wrapped around his hard cock, pumping it slowly. She’d never seen a man masturbate before, and the sight made her flush with heat as she felt her cunt pulse with desire.

“Give me your foot,” Dylan growled, the look on Meredith’s face making him need her naked, now. When Meredith raised her booted leg to him, he pulled one off, then repeated with the other. Her boots joined the rest of her clothes in a heap by the side of his skin.

Dylan knelt between Meredith’s knees, noting the swiftness with which they parted for him with a pleased growl. Dry tights came off faster than her soaked tights had, and soon enough she was wearing only a bra.

Again he paused to look at her—the long, white legs with that tempting shadow at their nexus, leading up to that soft belly Dylan couldn’t resist. He bowed his head to nip at it gently, before moving up to her bra-covered breasts.

“Off,” he commanded, biting at the offending fabric.

Meredith giggled before she sat up enough to get her hands behind her to undo the clasp. Suddenly unaccountably shy, she lowered her eyes as she pulled the bra off her naked breasts, only to have Dylan’s touch beneath her chin raise her eyes back to his.

“Gorgeous,” Dylan murmured, in a way that let her know he meant all of her, before he lowered his lips to hers. With that kiss, he took the rest of her down gently, so that they were lying on his sealskin.

The feel of Dylan’s body on hers was almost too much for Meredith. She suddenly wanted to kiss him and touch him everywhere, but his heavy weight pinned her down. She made due with opening her legs to him, wrapping her thighs around his as she began running her hands up his ribs, down his back, and over his broad shoulders—basically anywhere she could touch.

Feeling Meredith’s lust, and the touch of those slender fingers all over his body, Dylan’s kisses grew more heated. He fed off Meredith’s mouth, sucking on her lips before nipping them gently, his own hands twined in her hair.

“I could kiss you all day,” he whispered to her as he stroked one hand down her cheek. Meredith made an inarticulate sound—half, assenting moan; half, protest. While she undoubtedly appreciated the sentiment, he knew she wanted more.

So he moved his hand to cup her breast as he kissed down her neck, finding her other breast with his lips. He suckled her hungrily, massaging her other breast’s soft flesh in his other hand as he did so. Then he switched, making sure to play fair, causing her to gasp as his mouth found her other, already primed nipple.

Meredith was writhing under him, lost in a sea of sensation. And when his free hand moved from her breast to seek out her wet slit, she cried out into the night. His fingers were confident, moving her lips apart to find the source of her wetness. Dipping into her cunt just slightly, Dylan brought his wet fingers up to caress her clit, which was already sitting up and begging for attention. Rubbing her gently, he kissed down her chest and belly until his mouth was lined up with her cunt. Then he moved his fingers to suck hungrily at her, even as he filled her with first one, then two, then three fingers.

Stretched as full as she’d ever been, Meredith clawed at the soft material beneath her as her whole body bowed with pleasure. It was with a sense of shock that she felt an orgasm rush through her, taking her by surprise with both its suddenness and intensity.

Dylan felt Meredith’s cunt clutch his fingers, releasing a flood of sweet wetness as she cried out with a series of soft, mewling gasps. When her cunt had ceased clenching his fingers and her gasps had quieted, he knew she was as ready for him as she was ever going to be. And so he raised himself above her, finding her lips with his as he brushed the broad tip of his cock against her slick opening.

Meredith kissed and licked at his lips hungrily, loving the taste of herself on him, as she lifted her hips to his. She knew he was big, but she trusted him not to hurt her. And as Dylan began to push inside her, she felt sensations in her cunt unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

Dylan watched Meredith’s face as he penetrated her, loving how everything she felt registered over her features. Her lips were parted, and she was mewling again as he finally hilted himself inside her, only to begin withdrawing gently. Her pussy sucked at him, causing him to shiver, and she opened her eyes to gaze into his.

“Dylan,” she moaned, clenching her cunt around even tighter.

“Fuck,” he whispered, almost losing control and coming too soon. “You’re so tight,” he told her instead, after he’d regained control. Then he finished pulling out of her, only to push his way in all over again. Meredith groaned, lifting her hips to meet his, already wanting more.

So Dylan began pumping her gently at first, but then harder as she urged him on. Meanwhile, she was moving underneath him—partly out of reflex and instinct, but partly as if she were discovering for the first time what felt good to her. He let her experiment, sometimes helping her discover a new sensation by moving her hips just a fraction of an inch, or moving his own hips in a way that made her move hers differently. He loved that Meredith brought all of her natural curiosity to sex, although he was a bit surprised at her lack of inhibition. That said, her assertiveness also made sense. She wasn’t a woman who did anything by halves.

Evidenced by her running her nails down his back lightly, as she told him what she wanted next.

“Can I be on top?” she murmured. His only answer was a hoarse yes, as he used his supernatural strength to flip them both over neatly, without ever slipping out of her tight heat.

She shifted around so her knees were in the right position, then she began riding him—slowly at first, but quickly picking up the pace as she grew more comfortable.
 

Meredith loved the sensation of him underneath her, filling her as she ground down on him. His eyes moved from her breasts to her face, as his hands clutched her hips. The look of lust in his eyes made her cunt clutch at him, and she threw back her head when he moved his hand so his big thumb found her clit.

Rubbing her as she rode him, she felt another orgasm building. She gasped, looking down at him. “You’re going to make me come,” she murmured, hoarsely.

“I want you to come for me,” he told her. “Come for me, lass.”

And so she did, her pussy tight on his cock as she shuddered above him. He kept his thumb’s pressure on her clit until she moved his hand away, the sensation too much.

She flopped forward, so her weight rested on her hands, her cunt still spasming weakly around him as she panted. His hands found her breasts, kneading them gently as he gave her time to recover. Finally, she opened her eyes to meet his.

“You still haven’t come yet?” she asked.

“I’m busy enjoying yers,” he replied, tweaking her nipple gently.

She shivered in response, then gave him a feral little smile. Then she moved off him, only to push his knees apart so she could kneel between them.

“Well, I’m just going to have to do something to remedy this situation…”

And with that, she dove down, sucking him into her mouth. She could taste her own wetness, as well as the fluid dripping from the tip of his cock. Moaning, she took as much of him into her mouth as she could, loving the taste of them combined.

Dylan echoed her moan, bucking his hips, feeling his own orgasm mounting. What Meredith lacked in oral technique, she made up for in sheer enthusiasm, rubbing her lips and tongue against him almost worshipfully. When she dipped down to run her tongue over his balls, it was almost too much.

“No,” he growled, pulling her up to kiss her. “I want to come inside you.”

A shudder of lust went through her at his words and she kissed him back fiercely, reveling in how much she wanted him.

Meredith moved so that she was slightly in front of Dylan, dropping to her hands and knees. She pushed her shoulders down to his sealskin, looking back at him over her shoulder coyly as she presented her ripe backside.

Dylan bit back a groan as she met his eyes, her hand reaching back to play with her sweet little pussy.

“Fuck me,” she told him, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Moving forward to line his throbbing cock up with her dripping hole, he rammed into her roughly. She groaned in response, the fingers of one hand finding her clit as she braced herself wit her other arm. He rode her hard, feeling her pussy releasing even more wetness as she found her own rhythm with her fingers. He moved his hand to her hips, pulling her back to him as he thrust inside her, wanting her to feel every inch of him.

And Meredith did. She felt unbelievably full as his thick cock rubbed over previously neglected places, giving her a whole new set of sensations. She could feel another orgasm building, despite having come twice already.

Hearing Meredith’s hoarse pants, Dylan raised his thumb to his lips, getting it wet. Then he ran it over the little rosebud of her ass, tempting him from right in front of his gaze. He did this again, then a third time, until she was ready.

Meredith knew she was lost when she felt Dylan’s thumb on her asshole. Getting a good grip on the material she lay on with her free hand, she buried her face in his sealskin, moaning when he finally pushed his thumb gently inside her. The dueling sensations—her finger on her clit, his cock in her pussy, his thumb in her ass—made her cry out, stifled as it was in the skin.

Feeling Meredith shuddering around him, knowing she was about to come, made Dylan’s own orgasm rise in his balls. Pumping her harder, clutching at her hip with one hand while he fucked her ass with the other, Dylan’s breath tore from him in a gasp.

“Come for me,” he commanded. “Come for me now.”

And she did, soaking his cock as her pussy sucked sweetly at him. Hearing her stifled groans, he felt his own orgasm overtake him. Withdrawing his thumb from her ass, he covered her body with his own as he pumped his seed into her, her spasming cunt milking him of every last drop.

Then they collapsed together, laughing, on his sealskin. They kissed each other, still laughing—she, feeling a strange feeling of exultation at her body’s response to him, and he, joyous at her happiness. After they’d kissed and cuddled for a while, listening to the sound of the ocean waves and gazing up at the stars, Dylan’s hand again found her breasts.

They made love again and again that night, until both of them were sated.

Then they did it one last time, as Meredith liked being thorough.

Chapter Six

Meredith awoke to the unfamiliar smell of breakfast cooking. It was faint and far away, but definitely breakfast. A fundamentally private person, any help she employed always arrived after lunch. Therefore her breakfast—a healthy affair of fresh fruit, yogurt, and granola—was always consumed alone.

Which explains why she lay there confused, still half-asleep, until she remembered Dylan.

He’s real,
she thought, as her mind wakened entirely.
He’s real, and he can swim in the ocean. He apparently lives on my beach.

And he’s in my kitchen.

Meredith rolled over to stare at her ceiling, a labyrinthine knot of emotions unwinding inside her stomach. On the one hand, flashes of last night’s unbelievable pleasure kept swimming through her mind like schooling fish. Even now, she could smell him on her skin, in her bed. An enticing smell of seawater and sex.

They’d gone swimming again, after everything, in an ocean that should have frozen her to death in minutes. But she’d been warm and safe with him.

What is he?
she wondered.
And what on earth is he doing here? What kind of man hangs out on beaches and seduces women?

One that is both magical and ridiculously good in the sack?
came a snarky rejoinder from a part of her mind that she’d managed to keep silent for years.

She ignored the “magic” suggestion. Despite everything that had happened with Dylan, Meredith was too practical and too world-weary to believe in magic. How he did it was a mystery, but there had to be a logical explanation for how they swam in the ocean.

Just as there’s a logical explanation for all those orgasms,
came the dry voice of her logic.
He’s too good in the sack. He’s probably a gigolo.

Oh God,
Meredith thought.
What if he’s a gigolo?

He’s not a gigolo,
said her gut, refusing to believe that the man whom she’d trusted that much the night before could up and morph into some dime-store villain.

But if he isn’t a gigolo,
came that dry voice again,
what does he think about you? You had sex with a virtual stranger. You don’t even know his last name.

I don’t even know his last name,
she realized.

Exactly,
said the dry voice.

He made you come with as much ease as other men tie their shoes. Who needs last names?
came the long-quiet voice, growing stronger as it was used.

He was amazing
, Meredith admitted to herself.

For a gigolo
, snapped the dry voice, even more dryly.

“This is ridiculous,” she said, trying to shush all the conversations going on in her head. “I need to get down there and face the music. If he’s a gigolo, I’ll deal with it. If he’s not… Well, I’ll deal with that too.”

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