“Well, in theory that’s supposed to work. If it doesn’t, you can always try holding the croc’s mouth shut with your hands.”
“What? Instead of prying it open with my legs?”
“Right.” She duly ignored the sarcasm in my voice. “The muscles that open their jaws are much weaker and have less leverage than the muscles that close their jaws.”
“Thanks for that incredibly useful information.”
“Anytime.” After a quiet beat, she said, “What were we discussing again?”
“Mountain lions.”
“Oh, yes. Why are you so worried about them anyway? They’re just fat tabby cats.”
Expelling a heavy sigh, I dragged a hand through my hair. “Didn’t you hear about the fatal mountain lion attack in Washington?”
“No,” she said with a twinge of alarm. “What happened?”
“These two guys were mountain-biking on a trail in the foothills of Oregon when a mountain lion began tracking them. They did everything they were supposed to do: getting off their bikes, making loud noise and trying to scare the animal away. One of them even struck it with his bike after it charged. The mountain lion took off—”
“Thank God!”
“But just as they got back on their bikes, the cougar returned and pounced on one of them. It mauled him, holding his head with its jaw and shaking him from side to side. Seeing this, the second biker ran away, catching the attention of the cougar, whose instinct was to chase. So it dropped the first biker, attacked the second one and dragged him away.”
“Christ!” She clapped a hand to her mouth. “That’s fucked up.”
“What’s even more fucked is the first guy was still alive. Injured and bloody, he managed to get on his bike and ride away. When he looked back, he saw his friend being dragged into the woods.”
“Did they ever find his friend?”
“From what I understand, the dude rode for about two miles to find cell reception and call 911. First responders found his friend in the cougar’s den, with the cougar on top of him. He was brutally mauled. He never made it.”
“Holy fuck.” The fear in her was tangible then. “That’s truly fucked up, in all fairness.”
For a brief moment, neither one of us spoke. The air around us seemed to pulse with fear and trepidation. And I was strangely comforted by the fact that Lucy was just as terrified as I was of the mountain lions.
In time, she spoke into the silence. “Edric?”
“Yeah?”
“I just want you to know that you’re one of my best friends,” she said meaningfully. “And if we ever encountered a mountain lion out here in the woods, and it all came down to me having to save one life—just one...” Her voice trailed off, her gaze softened.
I stared at her, my expression cautiously hopeful.
“Obviously, I’d save myself. I’d be the one biking off, looking back in horror as you were being dragged to your death to the cougar’s den. But you can be damn well sure I’ll be calling the forest ranger once I was miles and miles and miles away—a relatively safe distance from the attack, of course.”
“Lucy!” I playfully punched her shoulder. “You are such a cock!”
“You are such a boob!” She giggled helplessly. “Oh, God,” she said, catching her breath. “That was my first full-on wracking belly laugh that I’ve had in ages, so thanks for that.”
“You’re welcome. Are you done now?”
“I think so.”
As the night wore on, we moved closer to the fire and watched the hypnotic, dancing flames. Over the course of more wine, the conversation took a different turn.
“This takes me right back to my senior year of high school,” she said with a hint of melancholy in her voice. “Me and a bunch of friends were sitting around a campfire, trying to one-up each other with dares. I came up with a really good one. Like, it was legit the best dare of all time.”
I picked up a stick and started stirring the smoldering ashes. “Let’s hear it.”
“I dared the guys to run around the woods with manginas.”
“Man—what?”
“Mangina.”
I kept my face blank. I had no idea what she was talking about.
“Oh, Lord Heavens!” she cried. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of the blessed mangina?”
“Am I missing something important here?” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Is the blessed mangina Wisconsin’s idea of a canonized saint?”
“Jesus fuck, no.” She expelled an annoyed groan. “You are a bigger idiot than I suspected. A mangina is when a guy tucks his penis and testicles between his legs. From behind, it looks like a basket of fruit. But from the front, it appears as if he has a vagina. Hence, the mangina.”
I suddenly found it hard to speak. When I finally found my voice, I said, “Is that what you people do for fun in Bumfuck Town, Wisconsin?”
“Hey, stop dissing my town. And don’t diss the mangina until you’ve tried it.”
“Why would I want a mangina? What in the ever-loving fuck for?”
“For a laugh.”
I shook my head, trying to dispel that image of a fruit basket sprouting from my rear while I rocked a mangina in the front. “It’s hella disturbing, Lucy.”
“No, it’s not. It’s like a mullet—business in the front, murder in the back.”
“Party in the back,” I corrected. “And no, a mangina is not like a mullet. It’s taking the mullet to a whole ’nother level. It’s fucked up in the front, and fucked up in the back. It’s using the idea of mullet, adding in a dick and some balls into the mix, and then you take all of that, pour an entire container of gasoline on it, and throw a stick of dynamite at it. That’s the mangina effect.”
Lucy was gazing at me, true delight shining in her eyes. “I dare you to run around the woods with a mangina. Do it. Do it,” she chanted.
Had she not heard a word I’d said? I kept my face schooled into an expressionless mask. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
“C’mon, it’ll be fun.” Her voice was coaxing, teasing. “I’ll do it with you.”
“You have a vagina, Lucy. You don’t need to do anything.”
“Precisely,” she quipped. “So let’s do it.”
“Absolutely not. Over my dead body.”
“Okay.” She bit down on her lower lip. “Then I have another dare.”
I used the end of the stick to stoke the fire. “I’m listening.”
“Let’s have sex. Right here. Right now. Under the stars.”
“You don’t have to dare me to do that.” I stared into the flames. “What kind of sex are you thinking?”
“Nothing kinky. Nowadays it’s almost like you have to stick your hand in a bear trap so the sex is not so vanilla.”
“That’s not kinky.” I winced. “That’s sadistic.”
“My sentiments exactly. To be honest, I don’t see anything wrong with vanilla sex. Without things like whips and chains and cuffs and—”
“Bear traps.”
“And bear traps,” she acknowledged, “we can just focus on each other and make sex about the connection and not just about getting off.”
I said nothing, waited for her to continue.
“I just want some good sex.” She spoke with typical frankness. “As a woman, I sometimes feel like I’m shamed for wanting sex and enjoying sex and being open about it.”
“You can always be open with me.” I leaned to the side, touching our shoulders. “About anything.”
“I know,” she said quietly, resting her head on my shoulder. “Usually, in the initial stages of foreplay, my breasts get a lot of attention and then they’re neglected the rest of the time. It would be nice if they could be included the whole time.”
“I can do that. One hundred percent.”
“That would be lovely.” She kept her gaze fixed on the fire. “I’ve been in relationships where the sex wasn’t so good, but with you, the sex is always great because you l
isten. You listen to what my body wants.”
“That’s what I do.”
“Have you always been this good in the sack?”
“If you’re asking me if I was constantly having to say, ‘Ladies, please. Contain your orgasms,’ then the answer is yes.”
She laughed softly.
“As for the sex being great, I’m humble enough of a man that I can say you’re a credit to yourself, Lucy.”
The briefest smile strained the corners of her lips. “So...” She cleared her throat twice. “With my mastectomy being three days away, I’d like to derive the most pleasure from my breasts when we have sex. Because once those nerves that give feeling to my breasts and nipples are severed, I’ll lose all sensation there.”
I took a deep, steadying breath, feeling slightly nauseous at the thought of nerves and tits being severed by a surgeon’s knife.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine. Are you?”
“I don’t know.” She set her lips in a pout, looking all sorts of adorable. “I might never know the touch, the feel of a lover’s hands on my breasts ever again. And,” she added tragically, “you won’t let that happen, will you? You won’t let that happen tonight when I could live out the rest of my life, never knowing that loving feeling in my boobies again.”
“Of course not.” The corners of my mouth twitched. “Being this good at sex, it comes at a price. As a sex god, it is my cross to bear and I would never deny a lady my, err... expertise.”
“I didn’t think you would,” she said in a breathless voice. “Someone’s got to carry that burden.”
“I know. I know I do.” A dramatic sigh. “No rest for the weary.”
“None,” she said. “Not when you’ve got to gird your loins.”
“These loins have been girded.”
“Good.”
“Have you given any thoughts, my lady?” I ventured. “As to how you’d like to derive the most pleasure from your ample décolletage?”
“Funny you should ask, Lord Edric, seventh Earl of Grantham and sex god to all mortals, because I’ve been researching this very matter. I Googled ‘best boob-focused sex positions’ a few days ago and it helped me make my decision.”
“And your decision is?”
“The North Face,” she declared with an air of gravitas. “And I don’t mean sex with a North Face jacket, I mean—”
“No further explanation needed.” I cut her off with a smug grin. “I know exactly what the North Face is.”
“Excellent. You lick, I grind. Everyone wins! Oh, and feel free to hold on to my tits while I ride your tongue.”
Fuck me, I love a woman who knows exactly what she wants and gives explicit directions.
Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead against hers, touching our noses. “What are you waiting for, baby?”
“Uff-dah.” A blush crept up her neck and cheeks. “Ope, I think my athleisure wear is getting too tight for comfort.” She pushed to her feet and began stripping. “So let me just get rid of it.”
Uff-dah? Ope? I shook my head, smiling in spite of myself. I’ve come to learn that’s how they speak in Wisconsin.
While I stood and stripped out of my clothes, I kept my eyes trained on Lucy.
She peeled off her spandex top, lifting it over her head and her breasts popped out, bouncing.
A muscle worked in my jaw. I was instantly aroused.
I didn’t take my eyes off of her as I reached for a foil packet, tore it open with my teeth, and rolled the condom down my rock-hard shaft. Then I stretched myself out on the blanket next to the fire and waited.
Fully naked, she came to me, her long tits swaying with each deliberate step.
My burning gaze raked over every inch of her body, taking in her strong yet soft form, those lush curvy hips and those thick, thick thighs.
Firelight and shadows danced and licked across her body, making her skin glow the color of warm honey.
A warrior goddess, illuminated by fire.
I stroked my shaft as I drank in the sight of her, leaving no doubt as to what I was thinking.
In the next breath, she was guiding me onto my back and prowling up my body, moving forward on her hands and knees until she was straddling my chest.
Our gazes locked and held.
There was fire in those wide eyes, flames licking in the irises.
Teasing me with her heated stare, she reached her hands up behind her and unfastened her ponytail. As the band slipped free, she shook out her hair, shaking her beautiful tits in my face.
The yearning for her hit me like a fist.
Heat spiked in my groin and I drew in a ragged breath that verged on a groan.
I am dead. Gone. Flatlining. Bury me right now.
Pushing myself to a sitting position, I lazily mouthed her breasts as they swayed around me in the shadow of night, the fire illuminating her exquisite tits in its orange glow as I took my time loving her breasts with my mouth, my lips, my tongue.
I drew the tip into my mouth. My lips formed a tight seal around her nipple and I sipped and sipped and sipped on that tit while my fingers worked her other nipple, toying with it, squeezing it hard, wrenching a broken cry from her lips.
At her silent urging, I leaned all the way back and she inched forward on her knees until I had a perfect view of her extruded clit and her smooth pussy, pink and dewy, coated with tiny beads of moisture.
Using both hands, I palmed her tits as I tongued her quivering flesh, a long and leisurely exploration, flicking the very tip of my tongue all across her labia.
Above me, she moaned deep in her throat, moving her hips, using her fingers to stroke her clit as I teased her slit with my tongue, rolling it around and around in slow circles, probing the heated folds with deep, unrelenting sweeps of my tongue.
I teased and licked and tasted, but I didn’t take. Not all at once.
Squeezing her trembling tits, I tongued her with a slow and sensual torment, hearing the thin, pleading sound of her voice as I stroked my tongue inside her, retreated, stroked a little deeper.
“Edric.” Her voice was uncertain, just a little dazed as I massaged those soft globes, controlling her every response with my large hands on her tits and the wet glide of my tongue on her pussy, drawing out her pleasure, taking my cues from her soft moans and quickened breathing.
Fuck. She was so wet, her honey dripping down my chin as she writhed above me, grinding herself against my tongue.
Ahh, she tastes so sweet, so fucking good.
As I feasted on her pussy, I smoothed my palms over her tits, lifting and kneading the creamy flesh as my tongue stroked inside her fluttering slit.
“Oh, God,” she whispered tightly as I squeezed her nipples between my fingers, pinching and tugging the engorged tips as she rocked her pelvis against my face, riding my tongue like a dick. “Don’t stop.”
I heard her panting, whimpering and I let those noises guide me as I tongued her slit, getting mouthfuls of her arousal as I feasted on her, devoured her, eating her out with a hungry, heated demand.
“Please.” Her voice was high and thin. “Don’t stop.”
Still, I didn’t stop—couldn’t stop—fucking her with my tongue.
Her body began to quiver and with a sharp cry, she tensed, convulsed, and came on my tongue.
Gripping her tits, crushing them with my fingers, I lapped up her hot, creamy release as it wept from her pussy.
“Edric.” Her breath came in shallow gasps, the pleading sound of her voice urging me on. “Please.”
As the flickering shadows licked her skin, her tits, I licked and licked and licked her labia, tonguing her succulent flesh, wringing every last ounce of pleasure from her body.
Soft, mewling sounds fell from her lips as the convulsions continued to wrack her body. It went on for several seconds.
She trembled against the aftershocks. Her spine bowed and her tits quivered in my hands as I hummed against her hot, swollen
sex, letting my groans of appreciation vibrate through her quivering flesh.
In time, she slid down the length of my body. A satisfied groan scraped from my throat as she leaned in for a kiss, her tongue separating my lips.
“Let’s fuck.” She spoke through the kiss as my hands smoothed over her ass, pressing her tight against my hard cock so she could feel every inch of my erection.
A corner of my mouth lifted. “Let’s.”
In one quick fluid movement, I flipped her onto her back and now it was my turn to prowl up her body.
She stretched, blissfully languid as I slid the length of my body against hers.
Staring into her eyes, I began moving my hips, rubbing the head of my cock along her clit, teasing her, watching her pant and whimper and beg with the agonizing need for my dick to be inside her.
When finally I tucked my cock into her entrance, she moaned low and deep as my shaft slowly penetrated her tight, juicy slit.
I took my time working my cock inside her. Surging halfway, then retreating, teasing her with another orgasm that I kept just out of reach.
“Edric,” she whimpered, clenching everything she had around my shaft, her pussy clamping down on my retreating cock. “Please,” she gasped, her features softening for an instant with an unexpected vulnerability.
My flagging self-control unraveled and I plunged into her with heavy, powerful strokes, taking her to the root and back, feeling her pussy pulse around the buried girth of my cock.
Perspiration beaded upon her face, glistened on her skin, and her eyes blazed with a hunger that matched my own as I slammed into her again and again, watching her breasts bounce in time with my thrusts, just inches from my face.
Greedily, I pushed her tits together and sucked both her nipples into my mouth as I plunged into her with powerful strokes.
God. She feels so fucking perfect. So hot, so tight, so fucking wet.
Muscles flexing, heat pouring off me, I drove into her, slamming to the hilt, my thrusts gaining in speed and urgency as I sucked her tits, gently abrading them with the edge of my teeth before sucking them hungrily between my lips once more.
She screamed my name as the pleasure mingled with pain.
The orgasm was almost too volatile, too sudden, too much.
The Good Mistake (Hemsworth Brothers #3) Page 23
