In record time he tossed his boots toward his tee and shucked his jeans, which landed in the same haphazard pile. She laughed and reached for him as he knelt down beside her. All too easily he grabbed her wrists and within seconds her arms were pinned above her head. He simply shook his head when she squirmed in token resistance and reached for the grapes, dangling them above her mouth. The deep purply red fruit hung temptingly out of reach. She tried to lift her head.
“Hold still,” he growled. “I’ll feed you.”
Obediently, she stopped moving and opened her mouth. It was the height of decadence to lie still and allow another person to take care of her needs. The smooth skin of a grape brushed her lips. She closed her eyes, shutting out her other senses so she could concentrate on the texture and taste of the fruit. She grabbed the grape with her teeth, loosened it from the stem and bit into the juicy pulp. A tangy sweetness erupted on her tongue. He fed her four more grapes in the same manner before the treat disappeared. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. He’d set the fruit aside and was watching her again.
“Do you want more, sweetheart?”
She nodded. She was very hungry.
His hand fisted around his cock, which seemed to have grown longer since the last time she’d looked. He pumped his hand up and down his thick shaft. The head was as plump and purple as the fruit she’d been eating. Without a word, he straddled her.
Because he still had her arms pinned above her head, his entire body bowed over hers. His thigh muscles contracted in a loose but firm grip around her upper body, holding them both steady. His downy-soft balls scraped along the valley between her breasts as he tilted his hips forward. She ran her tongue across her lips, moistening them. She’d barely finished when the head of his penis bumped against her mouth.
She opened to him, welcoming the musky male smell and the slightly salty taste from the precome that leaked from the tiny slit. She lapped it up, searching for more.
“That’s it, sweetheart.” His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.
Tracing the ridge of his glans with her tongue, she sucked another inch of his cock into her mouth. He groaned and his entire body shuddered.
“Easy, easy, sweetheart.”
He was the one teasing her ever so slowly with the smell and taste of him. Didn’t he remember how well he’d taught her to take his length? Impatient, she gently scraped her teeth along the rigid skin of his shaft and gained another inch for her efforts. Above her, he swore, in at least two languages. If she could, she’d smile right now. Instead she sucked greedily. An instant later he released his hold on his cock and threaded his fingers into her hair. His grip on her scalp tightened infinitesimally. It was the only signal she needed. Closing her eyes, she relaxed her throat muscles at the exact moment he shoved his cock deep inside her mouth. He grunted in satisfaction and she gave herself up to the feast.
Only four controlled, but intense, strokes later, he pulled out. His eyes sparked with a blue fire.
“Too much.” His raspy breath caught on each word.
Not enough.
He ignored her silent plea, his hands releasing their hold on her wrists and hair. His legs kept her imprisoned, though, as he slid down her body to kiss her forehead. She nuzzled his neck.
“You didn’t finish,” she chastised him.
He chuckled. “I was just warming up.”
“Could have fooled me,” she muttered, but her mock annoyance was lost on him.
“I’m not finished with you yet, sweetheart.”
He reached out and plucked several grapes from the stem and she eagerly opened her mouth. He ignored that request too.
“Don’t move,” he commanded, rising above her.
Then, one by one, he placed the small oval pieces of fruit in a row down her body, ending with a large grape nestled in her bellybutton. Seized by the barely controllable urge to laugh, she tensed. The grapes wobbled, but none of them fell off.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Just relax.”
Impossible. Especially when he dipped his head and his cock brushed against her mound. Her vaginal muscles tightened spasmodically. Hopefully. And then his tongue licked her breast bone and his teeth nipped her skin as he retrieved the first grape.
“Delicious,” he murmured against her bare flesh.
Please. She wanted to whisper the plea, but for what she couldn’t name. Goose bumps broke out across her skin and yet she was burning up. All she could see was the top of his dark head and his broad, bare back glistening against the shadow and light cast by the tree. His mouth, intent on exploration, sought and found her breast. His tongue swirled around the areola and then laved her already taut nipple.
She did not want him to stop. She did not want him to suddenly disappear without her knowing how this was going to end. Quite simply, she didn’t want it to end.
Another grape disappeared into his mouth before he lavished his attention on her other breast. She wanted to arch her body so he could take more of her into his wicked mouth, but with two grapes still positioned on her stomach, she didn’t dare move. And yet, if she didn’t hang on to something, she was going to fly apart. A little desperately, she reached up, her fingers skimming the silky texture of his black hair. Instantly his head reared up. His eyes looked almost feral with his lust.
“Not until I’m finished with you.” Which will take a good long time. He didn’t say those words, but she heard them just the same.
“But I need—”
“You’ll get your turn, sweetheart. But I’ve waited too long for this to back off now. Grab the blanket if you have to, just don’t touch me.”
He waited until she lowered her hands then bent his head to nuzzle the underside of one breast. She clutched the blanket with both hands, certain her knuckles would turn white before he was done. She tried to focus on the tree branch above their heads, but the leaves blurred together in a swatch of green. The only thing she could concentrate on, the only thing that mattered was the man now kneeling between her legs.
Anticipating her reaction, he held her legs down as he bent low and retrieved the last grape from her bellybutton. Her stomach fluttered, but the swirl and dip of his tongue hardly tickled. Besides, she was far too needy to laugh. Just a little lower, please.
“Sweetheart.”
She blinked, ready to scream with frustration. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw one small, oval grape trapped between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. His right hand slid up her thigh and delved into the short brown curls of her mound. She was forced to tighten her grip on the blanket when he nestled the piece of fruit securely between her folds.
Then he took his own sweet time repositioning her legs over his broad shoulders. She started panting. His hands smoothed over her stomach, effectively preventing her hips from rearing up into his face. She thought she heard the faint sound of his laughter, but couldn’t be sure. All she cared about, all she wanted was for him to eat her.
He licked her folds, slick with her juices.
“Mmm, delicious,” he murmured and leaned in for another taste. His tongue skimmed over the grape, pressing the fruit against her clit.
A series of tiny shockwaves rippled through her body. Her feet pressed against his back as she sought to hang on. Then he licked again, this time pressing the grape harder against her clit. Waves swamped her, drowning her in sensation after sensation as a tsunami built within her.
Finding some hidden strength, she managed to buck against his mouth, demanding more. The edge of his teeth scraped against the delicate folds of her labia then he finally bit into the grape, sucking her clit into his mouth along with the pulpy fruit. She screamed his name as the tidal wave crashed ashore.
Her next coherent thought came as she lay snuggled alongside Owain’s hard body. His erection was pressed firmly against her hip, but that wasn’t what captured her attention. Except for last night, every other time they’d been together, she’d woken up before they’d reached this
part. She brushed the hair on his chest and savored the quiet pleasure touching him brought her. Finally she turned her head slightly and wasn’t surprised to discover him watching her. She had the sneaking suspicion he hadn’t napped in the aftermath of their lovemaking.
“You can relax,” she said. “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”
A gleam entered his eye and he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. A square foil packet appeared in his hand as if by magic.
“I should hope not, sweetheart. You have work to do.”
Chapter Five
Tossing her hair out of her face, Megan contemplated him and the package. He arched an eyebrow. Daring her? Or begging her? In spite of the evidence pressing against her thigh, the latter hardly seemed likely. Even in her dreams, the man had had attitude.
With a grin, she rapidly walked her fingers up his chest and snatched the packet from his hand. He might have promised she’d get her chance, but then he knew darn well she always insisted on equal time to play.
Sliding her body into place, she pushed herself into an upright position. Her still sensitive pussy glided along his rock-hard shaft, soaking it in her juices. The self-satisfied smile quickly left his face to be replaced by a feral glint of hunger. She shuddered with the need to possess him and rubbed her mound against him again. His jaw clenched and he gripped her thighs. She smiled sweetly and shoved his hands away.
“Grab the blanket if you have to,” she told him.
His laugh was guttural, but he obeyed. His eyes turned the color of sapphires when she ripped the package open and slowly rolled the condom into place. Resting her hands on his shoulders, she lifted herself into position and, in one swift move, seated herself to the hilt. He hissed with pleasure.
She kept her eyes open, not wanting to miss a single nuance in the expressions that crossed his face as she rode him. Carnal desire vied with a look of reverence that shook her to the core. Sure the sex was good. Better than any they’d shared in her dreams simply because it was with a real person instead of between a pair of shadow-selves. But something else—something she could barely define—was happening to her. And if the look on his face meant anything, to him, too.
Even though the friction teased her inner walls, she took great delight in slowly pumping his velvety-steel shaft. With each stroke her breasts ached, swinging like weighted pendulums over his face. Her hands slid off his shoulders to the blanket beneath and she bowed her body until her distended nipples were tantalizingly close to his mouth.
The muscles along his neck tightened and his shoulders tensed as he raised his head to capture a bud between his teeth. He pulled gently, sucking more of her breast into his mouth. His tongue laved the sensitive tip, sending an electrical current spiraling through her spine straight to her pussy. She cried out at the sharp intensity of sensation that bombarded her. Her strokes grew shallower and her inner muscles immediately clamped tightly around his shaft. It wasn’t long before neither of them could hold back.
On her next down stroke, his hips surged upward causing the head of his cock to bump against her womb. A primal scream burst from her lips and he answered, shouting her name as he rammed into her again. He came, his body so rigid his veins stood out against his skin. Unable to hold back, her orgasm tumbled through her, violently rocking her body. Drained of strength, she collapsed on top of him and his arms caught her in a crushing embrace.
In the silence that followed, she couldn’t stop shaking. Some kind of emotional dam seemed to have burst inside her. Random thoughts flitted through her brain, one question uppermost in her mind. How could she go back to her dream world now that she’d been with the real Owain?
Desires and daydreams she’d barely dared to acknowledge surfaced, leaving her feeling vulnerable. Until last night her fantasies of sharing a life with the man in her dreams had seemed impossible. Or so she’d thought.
So she wasn’t entirely sorry when Owain gently pulled out of her, even if he didn’t let go. She pushed herself away, rolling onto her back. The tips of his fingers touched her chin, forcing her to look his way. He bent and kissed her lightly on the mouth.
“Are you okay?” His look was guarded, even though he hadn’t backed off.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She was falling hard and fast for this incredible man, but she wasn’t going to complicate a simple picnic by the river with feelings so new she could hardly express them even to herself. That didn’t mean she couldn’t at least be honest about one thing. No matter what happened, she was very glad he hadn’t faded away like a mist, lost in her dream world.
Needing to reassure herself as much as him, she reached up, pulled his head down and swept her lips across his. Her tongue brushed against the seam of his mouth and he groaned. But that didn’t prevent him from ending the kiss before it really got started.
“Hold that thought, sweetheart.”
Sliding his arm out from under her, he reached out and grabbed the napkin that held the remains of the grapes before turning away. She realized he was discreetly removing the condom. Another intimate detail they’d never shared as dream lovers.
She stared at the graceful contours of his back. Broad shouldered and lean, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man. Fascinated, she reached out to touch him, only to be interrupted by her stomach rumbling with hunger. Her appetite finally seemed to have caught up with the new time zone, at least for the moment.
“I need food,” she said and sat up.
He twisted his body around to gaze at her. “As my lady wishes.”
His callused fingers caressed her stomach. The gesture was achingly intimate, forcefully reminding her yet again of how little time they’d actually spent together.
“There is bread and cheese in the basket.”
“And a chicken leg or two or the whole bird?” she asked, hopefully.
He tensed and then slowly shook his head. “I’m a—what you call a vegetarian, Megan.”
The urge to laugh overwhelmed her and she shook her head at the irony. Their relationship was in desperate need of less sex and more practical information. Like condoms, food had never been an issue during their erotic dream encounters.
“I’d tell you my favorite meal, but it might gross you out. Let’s just say I tend to be a carnivore.” Her stomach growled in agreement.
Mock seriousness vied with amusement. “Then you don’t like bread and cheese and hardboiled eggs and tomatoes—”
She leaned in and kissed him soundly before he got carried away. “I love bread and cheese and hardboiled eggs and tomatoes and anything else edible you have in that basket. Now, please.”
An hour or two hours later—time truly didn’t seem important—Megan’s stomach was sated and the picnic by the river over.
“I could get used to this,” she said, shaking out the blanket. It scared her a little how easily. She was not an impetuous person by nature, and yet here she was in Wales with the man who haunted her dreams. “Do you know when the last time was that I took a day off, let alone a vacation?”
Owain looked up at her from where he squatted in front of the picnic basket packing up the remains of the feast he’d prepared. He’d eaten his share, but he still looked hungry. An answering shiver of awareness zigzagged down her spine.
“Last weekend?” His face was expressionless, except for the indefinable glint in his eye that said he knew his answer was wrong.
“Ha.” She folded the blanket in half and half again. “I was finishing some updates for a client.”
“A difficult one?”
“The client or the updates?”
He laughed, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight and she suddenly realized she was totally relaxed.
“The client’s a perfectionist, but then, so am I. His updates were straightforward, and this is the first day in—”
She paused because she really couldn’t remember. Working from home, her time was her own. It wasn’t unusual for her to work late into the night or
be up early if the mood and the ideas were flowing. Sure she booked time off for an occasional lunch with a friend and visited a gym regularly to work out, but only for a few hours and then she was back in front of her computer.
“It’s been a long while.” She hugged the blanket, wondering if she could make her life sound more pathetic or, well, lifeless.
He stood up, the picnic basket in one hand, his other hand outstretched toward her. “The day isn’t over yet, sweetheart. Will you come back to my farm with me?”
The invitation was irresistible. She wanted—so much. Maybe too much. He’d asked her out for one date. She forced herself not to glance at her purse—at the locket tucked away inside. It was definitely too soon to intrude on the intense connection between them with practical matters. What’s more, it was far too soon to talk relationship, especially given the logistics they faced because they lived on different continents. But his invitation was one thing she could take for herself.
“Ye—”
The word lodged in her throat, choking her. Behind Owain’s right shoulder, a honking huge horse appeared in the field, galloping straight for her. Terror rooted her feet firmly on the ground. Then the instinct for self-preservation launched her into a wild dash toward safety which, at the moment, equaled Owain. Before she could reach him, he dropped the picnic basket and whirled to face the oncoming menace.
What does he think he’s doing?
Seconds later, Megan skidded to a stop directly behind him. Bent double, she rested her hands on her thighs to steady herself. Her pulse pounded against her skin in time to the beat of the horse’s hooves across the ground. She forced herself to look up and that’s when she realized her fatal mistake. Her heightened state of panic had caused her brain to misread a significant visual cue. The horse hadn’t been heading toward her, but him.
“Don’t move.”
She couldn’t seem to suck in a breath of air without feeling as if she were being smothered, let alone move. Besides, he stood between her and a living vision of her worst nightmare.
“It’s Heather and Peaseblossom,” he continued. His tone was conversational. In fact, from where she was standing, his body appeared totally relaxed. “Heather has a thing for Will Shakespeare.”
The Man of Her Dreams: A Sexy Shifter story. Page 4
