“This is amazing!” she shouted, still grinning as if she’d just won the lottery.
“It pleases me that you enjoy it, lass,” he said, feeling her pleasure wash over him; the polar opposite of the loneliness and grief he’d continually felt from her before tonight.
She laughed, arching her spine so her hair dipped back into the water. He couldn’t help but look down at her breasts, the wet fabric of her shirt clinging to their curves. Her erect nipples begged for his mouth.
Then Dylan looked back to Meredith’s face to see she’d straightened her head and was watching him with wide, dark eyes.
That look again—the hunger…a desire that matched his suddenly swamped her system.
Before she could react either to his look or her own answering feelings, a particularly strong wave lifted them up, up, up…and then brought them crashing down again. Meredith, panicking at the surge of water suddenly roaring around her, instinctively tried to pull away from Dylan and make her own way to the surface.
The moment her hands left his, everything changed.
Suddenly the cold sliced through her, like a frozen steel scythe cutting through her flesh and bones. Everything also went black. Cut off from Dylan, she realized only their connection had allowed her to see with the clarity she had before.
Now she was blind, freezing, and so terribly alone…
Until strong hands seized her under her arms. With that first touch, everything went back to being warm and light, and the burning ache in her lungs disappeared.
Dylan pulled Meredith to the surface and then back to shore, cursing himself roundly for having ever let her go.
Once back on the beach, Dylan swiftly laid his sealskin cloak out before laying Meredith carefully upon it. She had a strange look on her face, and her emotions were in such a snarl that, even with his powerful empathy, he couldn’t begin to untangle them.
“I’m so sorry, lass,” he crooned, stroking a hand over her cheek, keeping in contact with her to keep her wet flesh warm in the cold fall air. “I shouldn’t have let you go. I’m so very sorry…”
He felt a tingle of fear from her, as she undoubtedly remembered that moment in the cold darkness. But then her fear blossomed into something else, something that made his own limbs tingle.
“That was magic,” Meredith said, her eyes staring up at him with absolute joy and trust. “That was really magic.”
Dylan smiled at her, letting his hand trail down to rest on her upper arm. “I told you, lass. Now do you believe me?”
In response, Meredith reached up her own right hand to stroke her fingers first over one high cheekbone, and then, tentatively, over his lips. The knot of her emotions was untangling on its own, and he felt things that surprised him…
But she seemed as shocked as he when, suddenly, her hand buried itself into his hair to pull him down for a kiss.
Meredith’s mouth was soft and warm, her breath feathering against his lips when she pulled away after just a second. He could feel her desire blossom into anxiety.
What am I doing? she thought. This is madness…
Before her anxiety could transform into action, Dylan took charge. Letting his empathy rebound just enough to give her a taste of his own desire, so that she could really feel how much he wanted her, he claimed her mouth with his lips.
The kiss was like nothing Meredith had ever experienced. Certainly not the fumbling smooches of her early boyfriends, nor Teddy’s sedate and mannerly tokens of affection. Dylan’s kiss was raw and hungry. His mouth seemed to feed at hers, his teeth gently biting at her tender lower lip, even as his mouth sucked away the gentle sting.
And the sexiest thing about that moment was that Meredith knew, without a doubt, how much this gorgeous man wanted her.
He wants me, she mused, feeling his desire as palpably as she felt the length of his cock hardening against her thigh. He just…wants me.
It was being desired in so fierce and sexual a manner, which left Meredith dazed. In high school and college, she’d felt wanted by many of her dates and her few boyfriends, but she’d known that most of their desire for her was merely because she was female, not because she was Meredith. Any body would have done, in a pinch, and although they liked her, they liked the idea of sex even more. But then Teddy had come along, and he’d really seen her, and wanted her. He’d made it clear from the beginning, however, that he loved her for her practicality, her innate intelligence, and her common sense. He’d loved that she could be a partner to him, and she’d genuinely appreciated that trust and admiration.
But he’d never wanted her body. Not really.
So to have the same amount of recognition and desire that Teddy had given her mind given to her body by Dylan, floored her.
I never thought I wanted this, she thought, as she felt her own lust for this dark stranger rising in a crescendo of need. I thought I was past this…
The sudden alacrity with which she returned Dylan’s kisses made Meredith realize that she certainly was not past physical desire, or the ability to appreciate another person’s need for her body.
He tastes like the sea, she thought, as she lost herself in Dylan’s mouth.
Dylan felt Meredith open to him, both physically and emotionally, and he moaned at the crescendo of need crashing through her soul. He backed off a second to stare deep into her lust-dark gaze, before smiling down at her.
“Are you ready, lass?” he asked, already knowing her body’s answer.
“For what?” she replied, dazed.
“For this.” He started by brushing his lips against hers, tickling all those sensitive nerves in Meredith’s already kiss-swollen lips. Then he swept his tongue gently against her lower lip, asking for an invite. When her mouth opened, his tongue claimed hers as he deepened the kiss, indulging all his passion for her.
Meredith sighed into his lips, at the same time reaching up to tangle her hands in his hair. More… she thought.
Dylan, reading her need, moved his lower body, nudging her legs apart with his knees. Then he draped himself over her, pressing the length of his muscular frame into Meredith’s languid body. She responded by opening her thighs farther, cradling him with her pelvis. He could feel the heat of her even through her damp clothing.
Still kissing her, Dylan ran his hands down Meredith’s neck, then her arms, then down the outside of her thighs. She shivered against him, her own hands clutching at his shoulders, then in his hair, as if she didn’t know what to do with herself.
She probably doesn’t, he realized, feeling an undercurrent of nervousness lurking beneath her desire. It’s like she’s never been with a man, but I ken that’s not true…
Dylan ran his hand back up her body, as he began kissing down her neck. Then he pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, placing a kiss on the end of her nose as his hand slipped under her sodden turtleneck.
“How I want you, lass,” he murmured, kissing her gently. She trembled, kissing him back. But he withdrew again, to meet her eyes once more. “Do you want me, too?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “But I’m…I haven’t…this isn’t me…”
“Perhaps it should be,” Dylan replied, raking his hand up over her ribs to palm her bra-covered breast. “Perhaps you need a night of pleasure.”
Meredith moaned, arching her back, as Dylan pushed up her shirt, lowering himself to kiss her soft belly. He’d wanted to be in that exact spot, and now he was, so he made the most of it. Smoothing his hands over her soft curves, he licked and nibbled at her flesh while she buried her hands in his dark hair.
Then he kissed his way up the center of her belly, to her sternum, pulling her shirt up as he went. Meredith helped him tug it off, till she lay clad only in her admittedly rather practical brassiere and woolen tights. Yet still she took his breath away.
Meanwhile, Meredith was lost in a rush of sensations. Whatever she was lying on was so soft she couldn’t feel a single stone underneath her, despite knowing the beach was all rocks. And the man who
knelt above her, staring down at her like a starving man eyeing a feast, only increased her own hunger.
When his hands again roved over her ribs, to her breasts, she pushed back any thoughts but those of her pleasure. It’s been so long since anyone’s touched me, she realized, feeling a curious sort of grief.
Dylan cupped Meredith’s breasts in his hands, pinching her nipples lightly through the fabric encasing them. When she moaned, arching her back, he moved his hands underneath her to get at her bra clasp. He undid it with a quick flick of his fingers—and maybe a little magic—then brushed the material aside.
First letting his eyes gaze on those soft mounds tipped by perfectly erect little nipples, Dylan then gathered both plump sweets in his hands before lowering his mouth for a taste. Meredith’s pleasure washed over him, mingling with his own as he took first one nipple, and then the other, into his mouth. Sucking gently, making them even harder, he kept pulling back to admire his handiwork before lowering his dark head to suckle her again.
When he brought his teeth into play, Meredith was already a lost woman.
Nipping gently at her nipples, then licking at the sting, Dylan nibbled down the underside of each soft swell. Palming them one last time, as if he didn’t want to say good-bye, he finally let go in order to move down her long body.
Kissing over her rounded belly, he pulled her tights just a little bit lower over her hips, spending a moment to lave his tongue over her hip bones. Meredith was drowning in her own sensations at that point, so he let her feel another wash of his pleasure at playing with her body.
She raised her hips, helping him pull her tights down over her thighs. Dylan was surprised Meredith wore no panties, but not at all dismayed. He stopped fighting with her wet tights long enough to gaze on her sex, feeling another rush of need shoot through his swollen cock. Meredith’s thighs were soft and long, perfect for wrapping around his body. Her pubic hair was fuller than was currently popular, but still neatly trimmed. And, as he’d never liked grown women made up to look like little girls, he loved the contrast of her dark hair against the pale flesh of those delicious thighs.
With a sigh of longing, Dylan returned to his task. Even a man of his considerable talents and experience was apt to struggle a bit with divesting a woman of a pair of wet tights, so it took him a few minutes to wrestle Meredith into full nudity. Not that he didn’t enjoy every inch of the revelation process.
And when she was naked, her knees pressed together modestly as she looked at him with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, he knew instinctively what she needed.
Easing himself back up to her mouth, careful of her knees, he kissed her gently.
“Tonight’s for you, lass. I won’t do anything you don’t enjoy, and I want nothing from you. Except your pleasure. Do you understand?” Only after Meredith nodded, still obviously a bit baffled, did Dylan move on. “So I want you to let yourself go for me. Let yourself be pleasured. I want you to moan for me…” And with that, Dylan inserted his hand between Meredith’s clenched knees.
“I want you to soak yourself for me,” he said, running his fingertips up her thighs, parting her legs like water.
“I want you to come for me,” he said, moving down her body as his hand found her slick heat. Meredith did, indeed, moan for him at his touch.
“I want you to scream for me,” Dylan finished, as he parted her lips with gentle fingers, only to lower his face to the center of her need.
Meredith did cry out at the first long lick of Dylan’s probing tongue. And then he did it again—a long, flat stroke all the way up her sex. And then he pushed her legs farther apart, only to prove that the third time really is charmed. Although this time his warm tongue traced all the way from the rosebud of her anus to her clit. And then stayed there.
Sucking her little clit into his mouth, he let one hand grip her hip as his other hand found her sex. Meredith moaned again, her fists clenching in whatever soft material she lay upon as his fingers found her wet passage.
“Good girl,” she heard him whisper. “So wet for me…”
He kept up a steady, sucking pressure on her clit as she felt one finger, then two, dip inside her. His fingers stretched her deliciously, and when he began pumping them, gently, she saw an extra layer of stars added to the ones already draping the night sky above her.
“That’s it,” he murmured, feeling her cunt gush around his fingers. “Let yourself go.”
Dylan added a third finger, sucking harder at Meredith’s clit. She trembled, her sex clenching hungrily on his fingers as he thrust them deeper, harder. His own cock ached, but he’d meant what he’d said. This night was for her.
Meredith, meanwhile, was barely clinging to sanity. The feel of Dylan’s thick fingers stretching her, was almost too much. She felt so full, so taken, and they weren’t even having intercourse. She could hear the wet sounds of his fingers moving in and out of her; she’d never known she could become so wet, so willing. So wanton.
She could feel a tidal wave building inside her, but it was so strong she wasn’t sure it was an orgasm. She’d only ever experienced orgasm with another person once before, with one of her more skilled college lovers. And that hadn’t felt like this—so powerful as to be almost painful.
But the tide kept coming in, and Dylan—sensing Meredith’s need—curled his fingertips up to stroke over her slick walls, searching out her G-spot. When his fingers found gold, Meredith sobbed with pleasure, her brain finally quieting to the insistent demands of her body.
Dylan felt Meredith’s cunt clutch at his fingers as another wash of wetness poured from her body. She was whimpering now, tossing her head on his sealskin, her hands clenching and unclenching. He knew she was close.
“Come for me, lass,” he told her, raising his dark eyes to watch her pleasure. “Be a good girl, and come for me…”
Meredith moaned as Dylan lowered his mouth back to her clit, flicking it with his tongue as his fingers continued plunging in and out of her soaking-wet sex. Then his other hand let go of her hip, and she felt its fingers move to pull her own moisture downward till her anus was as slick as her cunt.
When she felt Dylan’s thick thumb push into her asshole, she cried out incoherently. So full, she thought. His mouth on her clit, his fingers inside both her holes, it was too much. The pleasure that had been building crashed through her system as she came, screaming his name to the moon and stars.
Dylan smiled into her cunt as wetness poured over his fingers. He continued to work her sex, pulling more pleasure from her racked body, until he knew she could come no more.
Ignoring the demands of his own hard cock, he kissed his way upwards until he found her mouth. Sharing the sweet taste of her sex through his kiss, Dylan allowed his empathic channels to soak up every drop of her satiation, at the same time letting her feel his own joy at giving her such pleasure.
When he drew back from the kiss, Meredith was gazing at him with heavy-lidded eyes, her kiss-stung lips bowed in a sated little smile.
For a second, he thought of those sweet lips wrapped around his hard length, but he’d made a promise.
Tonight was for you, lass. He’d promised her, after all.
But I make no promises about tomorrow, he thought, as he bent his mouth to hers for one last kiss.
Chapter Four
Meredith woke with her strange dream still resonant in her mind. It’s like I can still taste him, she thought blearily, blinking in the shadows of her well-curtained bedroom.
She stretched languorously, her mind lingering on the details of the dream. She could still feel his hands on her body, his mouth on her sex.
Where did that come from, she thought, rolling over onto her stomach and burying her face in the pillows. It was so real…
For a second, she wished that the man had been real. He had felt so real. But she’d woken up alone, in her own bedroom, and what had happened between her and the dream-Dylan could never have happened in real life.
First of all, she thought, intelligent women don’t have sex with complete strangers just because they’re hot. Oh, and magical. Because, second of all, magic doesn’t exist. And finally, male models don’t roam the beaches of Maine, looking to make sweet love to lonely widows in turtlenecks.
A long-forgotten part of Meredith’s brain that had been roused by her fantasy of Dylan mused on when, exactly, she became someone who wore turtlenecks. Meanwhile, the rest of her thoughts—despite her logical protestations of impossibility—couldn’t stop focusing on that damned dream.
Everything he did to me, Meredith thought, feeling a shiver run down her spine. The way he touched me…the way he tasted me…
Her only regret was that the dream hadn’t involved letting her reciprocate.
She smiled into her pillows, thinking of her dream lover’s body. He’d been naked when he’d made love to her, even though she’d never seen him take off his clothes.
More proof it wasn’t real, she thought, strangely saddened.
But she was still happy to distract herself by letting her mind remember every detail of his long, muscular form. He hadn’t been overly muscled, just lovely and thick. Indeed, everything about him had been thick, especially that gorgeous cock she’d only glimpsed. She wished her sleeping brain had given her more than just a peek.
All that soft skin over rigid muscle…the wet tip… Meredith let her mind wander, a sexy stream-of-consciousness riff that indulged all the erotic longings her dream had brought out of her.
She imagined stroking her hand down that long, hard length, even as she ran her own hand over her belly and between her legs. She pictured herself fondling his balls, even as her own hand parted her wet labia.
Stroking him, hearing him moan, leaning down to taste that drop of moisture…
Meredith closed her eyes, her finger moving in lazy circles over her clit.
Sucking just that fat tip as he moaned for me, swirling my tongue around him…
Meredith’s finger worked a little faster, imagining his taste, his smell.
Taking him in deeper, moving my tongue against him, feeling his hands knot in my hair…
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