Ocean's Touch (9 page)

“That’s it, lass,” he groaned, staring down at the beautiful sight of her mouth wrapped around his cock, trying to make the moment last. Even after their marathon of debauchery the night before, the vision of her kneeling between his legs on her own kitchen floor was almost too much.

“You’re gonna make me come, Mer,” he said, the hand in her hair gently tugging her mouth away from him. But she refused, sucking him harder into her mouth, her hand working him more swiftly, as his gentle tugs on her hair turned to an open-palmed caress.

After a few more long, luxuriant bobs up and down his cock, she gave the head one last, luxurious swirl with her tongue before she raised her mouth off him.

“I want you to come for me,” she said, her voice soft but sure. “The way you made me come for you. I want to taste you.”

His cock grew impossibly hard at her words, knowing full well she’d probably never uttered anything like that in her life. The way she’d opened herself to him…it was sexier, even, then the way she’d opened her legs.

And so he let her go, watching her lovely dark head moving deliciously up and down on his cock. Soon, however, he couldn’t help himself, and began very gently adjusting her speed with his hand buried in her hair, while moving his own hips so that he fucked her mouth.

She moaned around him, loving the feeling of his hand in her hair, her lips wrapped around his cock, knowing that he was losing control and using her for his own pleasure. She did her best to suck at the hard shaft pistoning in and out of her mouth, using her tongue as much as she could, wanting to feel him spend for her.

Dylan knew he was close, knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from coming—her mouth was too warm, too tight, too sweet.

“I’m gonna come, lass,” he growled, feeling his orgasm rising in his balls. Her only response was to suck him deeper and harder, her eyes locked on his as if she wanted to see his pleasure when he came.

Which he did, his back arching and his hand clenched in her hair, low, rough groans pouring out of him as he came in long spurts of pleasure. He felt her mouth working, swallowing all of him, her tongue still caressing his turgid length.

When she she’d finished, swallowing every last drop of him, Meredith pulled away. Dylan didn’t collapse on the floor, however, demanding water and a sandwich, for the fey were made of sterner stuff than that.

Instead Dylan ran his fingers over her lips, as if thanking them for their hard work. Then the selkie stood, pulling her with him. Within seconds he’d stripped her of her yoga gear—thanking his lucky stars when he didn’t find a pair of tights under her loose pants—and had backed her against the breakfast table, reaching an arm behind her to shove aside their mugs, roughly.

“My turn,” he warned, his lips bowed in a predatory smile, as he lifted her up so she sprawled before him, more delicious than any buffet. Spreading her legs with rough alacrity, he watched her face as he slid his fingers into her warm wetness.

“You’re soaked,” he purred, bringing his fingers to his lips for a taste. Breathless, Meredith watched him suck his fingers into his mouth, tasting her. Then his hand was back at her cunt, two thick fingers dipping deeper into her as his thumb found her clit.

She moaned, her nails scrabbling at the hard wood of the breakfast table, knowing she wouldn’t last long with such treatment. When she felt the fingers of his other hand moving her own wetness down to her asshole, she shuddered.

“I want to fuck you here,” he said, pushing his middle finger deep inside her ass. She groaned, feeling so full.

“Not now,” he said, working her clit with his thumb as he withdrew his finger from her tight anus. “But soon,” he finished, pushing into her again, this time with two fingers.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, feeling her climax building in her belly as his fingers worked her cunt, her ass, and her clit. All she could think of was his cock replacing his fingers, inside her ass.

Dylan keeping his eyes on Meredith, enjoyed watching her pleasure. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her muscles clenched around his fingers, a look of almost painful rapture suffusing her lovely features. Another wash of wetness soaked his fingers, and he smiled.

“Come for me, lass. Let yourself go. Come for me…”

She held her breath, urging on her own orgasm, as he pumped her with his fingers.

“Come for me…” he commanded again.

She released her breath with a shuddering cry, only to suck up another long draught of oxygen. Her eyes on his were pleading.

He leaned farther over her, his fingers plunging in deeper, as he curled the fingers in her cunt just enough to stroke her inner walls. Seeking out the tough pad of her deepest pleasure with his clever fingers, he stared deep into her eyes.

“I said, come for me,” Dylan told Meredith, his voice fierce. “Now.”

And with that, she broke—the pleasure of her orgasm washing over her, suffusing her cheeks and breasts with color. As she groaned, her spine arching, he took her nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly as he withdrew his fingers from her ass, but kept working her pussy until she stopped shuddering around him.

Only then did his fingers still, as he enjoyed the aftershocks wringing her tight channel.

Meredith pulled him down into a fierce hug, gently touching his crazy, inhumanly wild, iron hair. And then she laughed, long and hard and joyfully.

For she wasn’t sure which she found more amusing in its shock value—the fact that he was a selkie or the fact that she, Teddy’s widow, had just done something other than eat a meal on her kitchen table.

Who says a leopard can’t change her spots
, she thought, pulling Dylan up for another laughing kiss.

Chapter Seven

“Do you agree with the changes, Meredith,” Ron repeated gently.

“What?” Meredith asked, snapping her eyes up from where they’d been resting on her white legal pad. It was note-free—not normal behavior for her in a business meeting of such importance.

“Do you agree we can go ahead with these changes?”

Meredith looked around the table. Ron’s face showed concern, while the expressions of his partners—two older men and one middle-aged woman—were carefully neutral. Teddy’s elderly mother, however, was by no means so polite. Her face looked upon Meredith with a combination of irritation, contempt, and that something else that Meredith could never quite put a finger on.

“If you’re not going to pay attention, you shouldn’t attend these meetings,” Mrs. Casaubon said, her voice as brittle and sour as her expression. “Perhaps you have other more important things to do. Like spend my dear Teddy’s money. Take it out of the mouths of orphans and waste it on fripperies.”

Meredith heard Mrs. Casaubon’s words through a haze. The fact was, Meredith heard such accusations a million times already. No matter how frugal she was personally, Mrs. Casaubon had decided long ago that Meredith was a gold digger, and nothing would change the old woman’s mind. If Meredith didn’t spend money, say, on the house, then she was “letting dear Teddy’s home go to ruin”. If she did, she was “living like a queen”. If she didn’t buy a new dress for a function, she was “not taking Teddy’s affairs seriously”. If she did buy a new dress, she was “wasting money on fripperies”. Meredith seemed forever linked to fripperies in Mrs. Casaubon’s mind.

After hearing Teddy’s mother’s slanders for so long, they rarely affected Meredith anymore. Not to mention, Meredith’s thoughts were busy on other things—mostly Dylan-related. It’s not that she didn’t want to be at the meeting—and this particular charity was one close to her heart—but she couldn’t stop thinking about her morning with her selkie lover.

“I’m sorry,” Meredith said. “I had a…a long night. Not much sleep. Please, can you repeat the proposed changes?”

So Ron did with a patient smile. The changes involved tweaking the application process for microloans to women in Asia, to make the process both easier and more accessible. Meredith agreed with three of the proposed changes, but she saw a problem with the fourth.

“Allowing a relative to appear at the bank in the place of the loan holder defeats the purpose,” she said. Meredith had spent nearly a year studying this subject and had even picked the brain of the Nobel Prize-winning creator of the idea of microloans. Of all Teddy’s endless charities, this was one she found genuinely fascinating, and one she felt she fully understood. Quite a few of Teddy’s other charities she felt a lot less capable of running.

But he asked you to,
she reminded herself.
He wanted you, and only you.

Meredith was snapped out of her own thoughts by Teddy’s mother’s tutting, although everyone at the table ignored her, including Meredith.

“Part of the purpose of these loans is to make women financially responsible for themselves and to enhance women’s public profile as holders of economic power. It’s fine for them to have chaperones, if the country’s mores require such things, but the women can’t be replaced by male relatives as the public face of the money holder,” Meredith said firmly to Ron and his partners, ignoring the grimace Mrs. Casaubon was giving her.

Ron nodded. “That’s what our experts said, but there was still pressure to include this measure from local governments and religious leaders.”

“I’m sure there was,” Meredith said dryly.

“I don’t understand why you have to interfere, Meredith,” Mrs. Casaubon said from the other end of the table, ignoring Ron’s words. “If the women want their husbands to go to the bank for them, why can’t they?”

Meredith took a deep breath, reminding herself that Teddy’s mother knew nothing about the region in question or about microloans or realistically about any gender-related issues past 1945.

So why is she talking?
Meredith couldn’t help but ask herself.

Everyone around the table ignored Mrs. Casaubon. Meredith didn’t like to go that route, because she knew it drove Teddy’s mother crazy. But there were times when they had to. Meredith had neither the time nor the patience to explain the real world to the elderly woman, and Meredith knew Mrs. Casaubon wouldn’t listen anyway.

“Is that all for today?” Meredith asked Ron, instead of engaging with Teddy’s mother.

“Yes. We’ll have to rearrange the wording to articulate our stance against the fourth proposal, but everything else has been dealt with, so that should be it.” Ron smiled warmly at her as he stood, along with his partners. Meredith stood as well, although Mrs. Casaubon remained seated.

She shook the partners’ hands as they filed out of the room, but Ron stayed. He dropped his voice so that Mrs. Casaubon couldn’t hear.

“I know you say you’re tired, but I have to say, you look wonderful today, Meredith. The best I’ve seen you look in months. Have you done something?” he asked.

“Done something?” she questioned guiltily in response.

“To your hair? Or perhaps a new workout or something.”

Meredith thought carefully before answering, “I did do a new workout this morning, actually. That must be it.”

“Well, keep it up,” Ron said, clasping her hand in both of his. “You’re absolutely glowing. Grace and I worry about you, you know.”

Meredith smiled at the thought of Ron and his wife discussing her health. “Thank you. I know you do. Give my love to Grace.”

Ron nodded, squeezing her hand in his, and then left the boardroom.

Meredith looked over to where Teddy’s mother sat waiting.

Like a rattlesnake
, Meredith thought as she went to help the elderly woman up from her chair.

Mrs. Casaubon harrumphed, but allowed Meredith to help her to her feet. Then Meredith ensconced her mother-in-law in the embrace of her walker before helping her to the door.

“You can stop fussing,” Mrs. Casaubon said overly loud once they were at the main exit of Ron’s suite of offices. Her caretaker, a heavyset Latina woman named Inma, gave Meredith a sympathetic smile as Meredith handed over her mother-in-law.

“Next time you come,” the old woman said, peering up imperiously at Meredith, “make sure you bring your brain. I may not know what Teddy saw in you, but you made my boy a promise. You owe him more than ill-attention to his great work.”

And with that, Mrs. Casaubon heaved herself through the doors while Inma shook her head at Meredith as if to ask, “Why do you put up with her?”

Meredith sighed. That she didn’t have to put up with Teddy’s mother was well known to her since it had been rubbed in by countless friends, acquaintances, and even some strangers who saw how badly the old harridan treated Meredith. After all, Teddy had left Meredith both the house and her very own trust fund, which was maintained independently of all his charities. The work she did for those had nothing to do with the amount of money she earned or had inherited. But he’d left the running of his foundations to her, and had charged her, especially, with overseeing them. And she knew it would break Mrs. Casaubon’s heart to be cut out of their running entirely, so Meredith dealt with her mother-in-law as best she could.

After Teddy’s mother had caught an elevator downstairs, Meredith finally left Ron’s office suite. Then she went and hit the Down button, chewing on her lip as she thought about her promises to Teddy, about his mother and her ever-increasing asperity, and the fact that Meredith had a selkie lover waiting for her at her house.