Lustfully Ever After (26 page)

She could feel the need building in him as if she were the one being pleasured. Every muscle in his body drew taut, and he almost hummed with the intensity of his desire. She knew
what was to come, and she felt herself grow hot and moist at the thought.

He gasped as he flooded her mouth, and she welcomed the salty taste of his arousal. She rubbed her pussy against his leg, painting his hair-roughened thigh with her wetness as she gently sucked his softening cock. Finally, when she had taken all he could give, she released him. She had devoured him—not just his semen, but his very essence—and it made her feel strong.

He pulled her into his arms, holding her against his chest as his breathing returned to normal. His hands stroked her body, pausing occasionally to caress the mole on her bare shoulder or stroke her hardened nipples through the silk of her dress until she moaned. With gentle hands he stripped her, sliding her dress over her head, unclasping her bra and releasing her breasts, skimming her moist panties down her legs.

When she was naked, he cupped her breasts in his big hands before trailing his fingers down her ribs and over her stomach. His fingers slipped lower to her mound and squeezed her pussy in the palm of his hand until she gasped and pressed against him.

She nuzzled his neck, nipping at corded muscle. She felt the steady beat of his pulse against her lips and heard the matching rhythm of the waves against the beach. Her hand trailed low over his flat belly to fondle his still-damp cock. Much to her delight, he began to swell beneath her touch.

“Wet,” he murmured, his fingers caressing the delicate folds of her pussy so gently she thought she would scream. “I knew you would be, for me. As wet as the sea. Taste yourself, Mara.”

Before she could refuse, his finger slid between her parted lips and she tasted her own desire. She moaned low in her throat, reckless with her need as she palmed his heavy erection in her hand. Even here, where he should be hot, he was cool. She stroked the velvety soft tip of him, swirling a teardrop of
arousal around the velvety head until he captured her hand and dragged it away.

“I want you inside me,” she whispered, so softly she wasn’t sure he heard her.

“I know, Mara, I know.” He pulled her onto his lap and she wrapped her legs around his waist, his erection nudging the cleft of her pussy.

“I want, I want,” she gasped, unable to voice her need, unsure even what it was she needed.

“You will have what you want,” he said, laying back on the sand and pulling her with him. “As much as you want. Take it.”

Their bodies pressed together, shoulder to hip, and she had only to shift her weight and he was inside her. She looked down into his magnificent face, rugged and strong, as he guided into her so swiftly and smoothly it was as if he’d always been there.

No moment in her life had prepared her for this utter sense of completion. Every sad thought, every bad memory melted away as she rocked her pelvis against the thickness of his erection. She was in control, and the rest was all an illusion.

Mara lay across Dylan’s body, pressing her engorged clitoris into his flat, muscular belly. She could see her desire mirrored in his expression, could feel his pulse in the flesh embedded inside her. And suddenly, like a flash of heat lightning that’s gone almost as soon as it’s seen, she felt his thoughts.

She stared into his face, his breath coming in short, rasping pants that matched her own. She wanted to ask
how, why,
but then her physical need took over, straining toward the orgasm that trembled just beyond her reach. She shifted her weight, grinding against him, and that was all it took. She screamed her release even as he pulled her head down to him and kissed her.

She whimpered into his mouth, tasting him, tasting herself.
Wetness, so much wetness. Her climax seemed never ending, spiraling higher and higher as he tensed beneath her. His gasps turned to moans in her open mouth. She swallowed his breath and clenched her body around his as he came.

They lay together in a warm, damp tangle of limbs, hearts beating in sync. She felt no shame or regret, only a strong sense of satisfaction and belonging. She closed her eyes and felt the gentle swell of his chest beneath her head keeping time with the waves.

“I have to go,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. He gently released her and rolled away to button his pants.

She reached out, but before she touched him she let her hand fall to the sand. It was better this way. Better or safer? Her mind taunted her, but she ignored the crazy, impetuousness that had led her to make love to a stranger.

Dylan stood, looking down at her. “I must go.”

She made no move to cover herself, basking in his approving gaze. “Thank you.” The murmured words could hardly do her emotions justice, but it was all she could offer him. “Thank you.”

He hesitated, raking his hand through his sandy, tousled hair. “If only…” His words trailed off and were carried away on the wind. “Trust your heart, Mara,” he said softly, insistently. “Trust your heart.”

Before she could speak, he turned and walked away. He followed the line of the shore for several yards, then veered off, toward the ocean. The tide was going out, leaving a dark, wet stain of sand behind each time the waves rolled back out. Dylan never paused as his feet splashed in the surf. He walked into the ocean, ankle deep, knee deep, chest deep.

Suddenly frightened, Mara stood and ran toward him. “Dylan! What are you doing?”

He never looked back.

Mara watched as he disappeared into the sea, his blond hair disappearing from view. She clutched her hands to her pounding heart. “Dylan,” she whispered hoarsely.

She searched the dark void for some sign of him, but Dylan was gone. She turned, blindly looking for her clothes before realizing she’d run some distance away from where they’d been. She had to get dressed and back to the house, call 911, call the Coast Guard. Her mind raced but her body was frozen in place, staring at her footprints in the damp sand. Her footsteps.
Only her footsteps
.

Her mind tried to make sense of what had happened as she stared at the marks in the sand. Dylan had walked this same path, yet the only sign the sand had been disturbed was the footprints she had left. Even while she told herself the tide had washed his footprints away, she heard him call her.

She looked frantically out to sea even though she knew it wasn’t possible to have heard him. Even if he hadn’t drowned, he was too far away for her to hear his voice.

The thunderclouds finally kept their promise and opened up, releasing a torrent of rain. The ocean churned violently while rain coursed down her naked body. She crumpled to her knees and bowed her head, feeling as if she were losing her sanity. Sobs racked her body, but her tears were washed away in the rain. She hadn’t told him her name. She’d never told him her name, and yet he knew.

Suddenly, his words took on a different meaning. She raised her head, wet hair streaming down her back. “What do you want from me?” she screamed. “Who are you?”

No answer came, nothing but silence and the rain. She curled up on her side in the sand, her body aching, her soul dying. The rain felt hot and prickly on her skin, and she sobbed her fear and confusion into her chest, holding herself the way Dylan had held her only minutes earlier.

She ignored the voice that penetrated into her conscious. She was losing her mind. There was no other possible answer.

She opened her eyes, feeling the sting of tears and rain.

“What,” she whispered hoarsely. “What do you want?”

What do you want, Mara?
She could hear his voice inside her, soothing her. What do you want?

“Love,” she answered, feeling small and pathetic and alone. “Peace. Belonging. Everything I’ve never known.”

It made no sense, but some small flicker of hope, a need to believe in something bigger and greater than herself, forced her to unfold from the sand and walk toward the ocean. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, fat drops splashing against her hot skin. She took one hesitant step toward the water. Then another.

“I’m afraid,” she whispered, knowing no one could possibly hear her. “So afraid.”

She
wanted
to believe. Truly she did. But rational thought told her it was the strain of the day and the champagne and exhaustion that was guiding her. She took a fumbling step backward, reason returning. This was crazy. Insane.

And then she saw him. He stood naked in the surf not ten feet in front of her, the foam of the ocean clinging to his chest, his hair slicked back, his skin glowing with a strange luminescence.
Incredibly, impossibly, he was there. He hadn’t left her.

“Dylan,” she pleaded, not even sure what it was she asked of him.

She wanted to. Oh, God, how she wanted to. She walked toward him, feeling the first chilly brush of water against her feet. Her skin felt fevered and the ocean felt so good, so right. A few more steps and the water was up to her knees. Her nipples tightened almost painfully, whether from arousal or cold she couldn’t be sure. Excitement tinged with fear coursed through her. A few more steps and she was in front of him. Close enough to touch him, but holding back.

This time, she knew he hadn’t spoken aloud. She had known it all along, she realized, but here now was proof. “How?” she asked softly.

She didn’t know how it was possible, but it was true.
I’m afraid
, she thought.
What’s happening to me?

Don’t you know?
His thoughts teased her senses.
Everything you always wanted. Love. Peace. Belonging. Take it, Mara. You deserve it all and so much more.

She didn’t know what to believe, she only knew she felt a lightness in her soul she’d never felt before. When he put his arms around her, she melted against him. Buoyed by the water, the tide gently pulled them out to sea.

“Where are we going?” she asked aloud, a sense of peace settling over her even as the water rose to her chin.

“Home,” Dylan answered, his voice sounding strange, almost foreign, after hearing him inside her head. His fingers, cool and strong, wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

She clung to him as they kissed, feeling his cock, his thick, exquisite cock, swell against her belly. “Dylan,” she murmured against his mouth, ready for him. Needing him. He slid quickly and smoothly into her warm wetness as a wave rolled them higher.

She moaned.

He undulated against her, their bodies wrapped around each other.

She looked past his shoulder toward the shore and was frightened by how far away it seemed. She could see the lights from her house twinkling against the horizon. As Dylan moved into her, she idly wondered how long it would be before they would miss her. Would they think she’d drowned herself? Would they find her clothes and think she’d been attacked? It didn’t really matter. None of it seemed to matter anymore.

Cradled in Dylan’s arms, she slipped beneath the water. The remnants of fear and uncertainty ebbing away as Dylan’s body molded to hers and slipped deeper inside her. Her lungs swelled with her desire to moan, yet there was no overpowering need to breathe. A gentle, fluid feeling coursed through her veins as her skin was soothed by the cool touch of the sea. She felt her body changing, adapting to the new environment of the sea, could feel the same changes transpiring in Dylan’s body as he embraced her.

Her hair made a cloud around her head as she arched her back and pressed her body against him. His words floated through her mind and laughter bubbled low in her belly.
I hear you,
she thought.
I hear you!

At last, she’d found her home. She looked up through the
water far above her and saw moonlight glimmering on the surface of the ocean. She looked at the man-creature she clung to, whose body felt as right and natural as her own, and smiled.

As they drifted on the ocean’s current, Mara let go of everything she thought she was, everything she had ever believed in. She let go of everything she knew and embraced the unknown.

She was home.

MICHELLE AUGELLO-PAGE
(
michelleaugellopage.wordpress. com
) writes erotica, poetry, and gothic fiction. Like Little Red, she is haunted by stars and afflicted by the moon. She is also a teacher and a mother and lives in New York. Recent erotica was published in the anthology
Fairy Tale Lust
.

 

ANDREA DALE
(
cyvarwydd.com
) lives in a fantasy world in her head, weaving tales of erotic romance and magic. Her alter egos write speculative fiction, appear in the front row of Styx concerts, and dance under the full moon sprinkled with faerie dust. Sometimes all in the same day.

 

EMERALD
’s erotic fiction has been published in numerous print and e-book anthologies as well as on various erotic websites. She is an advocate for sexual freedom, reproductive choice, and sex worker rights and blogs about these and other topics at her website,
thegreenlightdistrict.org
.