"I trust you. And if this is my fantasy—well, then it can change when and how I want it to, can't it?"
Dylan nodded, and then chuckled. "Mia, you are devious. I think you're very clever, very sexy, and you're making me very hard."
"Well, I hope that's part of your fantasy then." 'Shit, am I really standing here nude and swapping sexual innuendos with a naked bloke? A hot, aroused, naked bloke?'
There was a pause in the conversation.
'A pregnant pause? Oh help. Freudian slip, I hope. Aren't I past all that? Fingers crossed, because there is not a hope in hell it will be legs crossed! Not on my side anyway.'
He grinned. She rolled her eyes. "Am I thinking out loud again?"
"Nope, just waffling a bit." And heaven and my gods help me, but I'm lying for a good cause.
"Thank goodness for that." Mia sighed and then sighed again, as Dylan moved nearer so their bodies were barely touching. "So, what's next?" He looked at her and winked.
"Your fantasy." She reminded him. "I just get the chance to tweak it a bit when I want."
He laughed, reached under the water, and unerringly found one tight hard nipple. And tweaked.
"So do I." He hoped the sharp sting of arousal that flashed into him as his fingers circled the nub excited her as much as it did him. Dylan relished the friction of his rough skin on her soft flesh, and the way her eyes widened and clouded with each caress. For the first time in his life Dylan had dithered over how much to do and when. It wasn't often he was unsure of himself, and scared how his ministrations would be received.
Now, however, his skin prickled with the intensity of his longings. The air was full of his hopes and fears, and it was a new experience for him. The thought he might screw up made his heart race, and created a heavy lump in his throat. He wanted Mia to know he was sincere in his desires. However, he didn't want her to think he only wanted to get into her pants. The thought made him chuckle under his breath. That was impossible at that moment anyway.
He pulled her close, the water parting as their bodies merged. He hoped Mia could feel his cock hard against her belly. She moved, trying to get him closer to her. He kissed the tip of her nose.
It was such a sweet gesture that Mia felt her clit clench, and her pussy throb. Sweet? Now why on earth would I associate sweet with him? He's fire, heat, and spice.
"Are you protected?"
She was pleased at his question. It might be a fantasy, but common sense had to play a part. Amazed that he thought she was young enough to need protection, she nodded her assent. Forty-five is not old, she reminded herself. If her body remembered all the mechanics, she could, in theory, find herself pregnant. The thought didn't shock her. Instead, she felt a warm glow fill her, and her womb twitched, almost in anticipation. Mia told herself to stop being fanciful. She was on the pill anyway.
"Yes, clean and on the pill."
"Likewise. Well, I'm not on the pill, but I am clean."
Dylan shifted to accommodate her, the tip of his cock rested against the opening of her channel. As he gently pushed into her she suppressed the urge to pull him in and hold him. Instead, Mia rocked her body in encouragement. He didn't need it. With one swift movement, he was fully inside her. The water swished and swayed around them, its movements mimicking theirs.
"Put your legs around me" Dylan said. His voice was hoarse with what Mia could only hope was desire. "Tight. Yes, like that." He voiced his approval as she did as he asked and held on tight, her ankles locked around his back.
The buoyancy of the water helped their movements. Mia put one arm around his shoulders to anchor herself, and found his nipple with her free hand. Then she reciprocated his earlier attention to her. It seemed he liked it. His hard male areola puckered and his nipple tightened under her caress.
"Bloody hell, woman." Dylan bent his head to touch his lips to hers. That first gentle contact morphed into a hard searing kiss, as his tongue demanded entrance into her mouth and swirled with hers. Mia nipped it and felt his moan of approval resonate through her. He pulled back and took a deep juddering breath.
Mia grinned; this was all she could ever have asked for—and more.
Dylan groaned and thrust harder. He took a couple of steps and braced himself against the edge of the pool as if to make sure they never became detached. His hands were firmly on her bottom, kneading and caressing. Mia bobbled around in the water, her arousal intensified by all the various sensations she felt. She knew she couldn't hold out much longer.
Ten two's are . . . no, that won't do. God, what a body . . . No, definitely don't think of his body. Think ice cubes and . . . . Mia trembled. Her skin was on fire and her clit clenched and unclenched like a farmer milking a cow. At any other time she would have sniggered at the comparison. Now all she could do was feel her climax spill over and release. She shouted out as her world spiraled, and black spots danced in front of her eyes.
It seemed it was all Dylan needed. With an equally loud shout, he came inside her, and Mia felt the warm heat of his seed filling her.
As they clung together, the water rocked and spilled over the edge of the pool. It was bit like she had spilled, Mia thought as she slowly regained her sanity.
Dylan's rasping breath slowed, and he brushed Mia's wet hair away from her face.
Sweet heavens, that was hot.
"Thank you."
What's he thanking me for? I should be thanking him for the best orgasm of my life since . . . well, actually, since ever. Wow. Even better than . . . no don't go there, better than ever!
"No thanks needed," Mia said softly, "But from me back to you. That was . . . well." She shrugged, determined to be laid back. "Good!"
"Yup." He kissed the tip of her nose, a gesture that melted her insides, and turned her clit into a tingling nub which demanded attention. "I'll allow you a mediocre reply like that this time because if we don't want to become prunes, we need to get out. Otherwise, I'd show you good."
As Mia's tummy decided to rumble at that point, she had no argument.
"And you need your dinner," he said. "Who am I to deny you food to feed the body? You'll need your stamina later, so stock up well."
Dylan jumped out of the pool and leaned down to help her, it seemed he was oblivious to their state of undress. Now that she'd regained some sense and breath, Mia wasn't.
Oh God, now he'll see my wobbly bits.
"I've seen them already. I love them." So saying, Dylan pulled her out swiftly, and kneeled down in front of her, running his tongue around the edge of her belly button." He spied a mark. "Is this for a jewel by any chance?"
"How did you know what I was thinking? Ahh . . . er yes, my jewel. I took it out for the plane journey and forgot to put it back." His tongue momentarily distracted her as it moved lower. Then her tummy rumbled again. Loudly.
"Okay." He stood up and wrapped the towel around her. "I'll save it for later. Food for my lady."
Oh yes, very okay. He didn't answer. Did that mean for once she hadn't spoken her thoughts aloud? Mia nodded.
"I think I'll say yes, please."
"Good." He rubbed himself down roughly with another towel, put them both onto the sun bed, and took her hand. She let him pull her closer, and inhaled the spicy musk scent of man. If she weren't careful, she'd be drooling.
"Dinner?" He steered her toward the house.
Mia nodded as her tummy rumbled again. "What about our clothes?"
"Not a problem. They'll be collected later. Concentrate on yourself, on our fantasy and us. This is a week for that. Not for housework."
Mia looked across the grass toward the beach. She could hear the noise of the waves softly in the distance. Far away, on the horizon, the lights from a yacht showed briefly. One from the island? Somebody with a fantasy afloat maybe? A shadow appeared briefly where sand and grass met, and was gone.
"Did I see someone or something over there?" she asked Dylan. "Not the boat, though I was wondering if it's from here." And if my sister is on
it. "But near the beach. Can they see us?"
"Maybe, probably, and no they can't," he replied, patiently urging her forward with a hand on her spine.
"There's one-way glass between us. Didn't you read your information brochure? And if you did see anyone—or anything—it was Faran, our Head of Security. Or one of his . . . well, I was going to say minions, but that's not right. One of his personnel. His kind. They're, shall I say, a little unusual, but nothing gets past them unless they want it to."
Dylan continued to urge her forward, not wanting her to realize how turned on he was getting again just by looking at her lush body in the moonlight. Otherwise, they would never get any food, and if the week panned out the way he hoped it would, they'd need all the fuel they could get.
It seemed Mia was happy to let herself be coerced. He read her thoughts about how there was something very liberating about walking 'au naturel' in the dark, with a more than fanciable man. It made him grin. Especially when she mused she could tell that said man was beginning to get aroused again. He looked at his cock and willed it to behave. There wasn't much beginning about it. His dick was perked and ready. It wasn't easy to subdue it when all he wanted was to jump her bones once more, and imprint himself on her.
'Could dinner wait?'
"No, it couldn't," Dylan said, amused at her habit of talking to herself. It certainly gave him good insight. "Not if you want me to be able to keep this." He looked down briefly "Up. I need sustenance."
Mia followed his gaze and hastily looked at his face instead. His smirk was enough to make her flush and put her hands to her cheeks.
"Argh. Oh glory, how mortifying is that? Sheesh, I never talk to myself aloud as often as this. I need a lock on my brain. Shoot me now." Her face was so tragic his lips quivered. Sadly, there was no way he could tell her she wasn't speaking out loud now, either.
"No, no, you mustn't stop," he assured her. Hell, sometimes this gift is more a nuisance than a pleasure. "You carry on telling me what you've got in your mind." As long as she thought she was talking out loud, it would help him to keep his pretense up as he tuned in to her. "It helps me know you're happy with all of this." He gestured broadly, and his hand brushed his cock. It responded and pre-cum seeped around the head. Dylan fought not to roll his eyes. Behave.
"Oh, I am. Especially that bit." She glanced toward where he had gestured and then up again.
Dylan laughed, happier than he had been for ages. Thank goodness for all-knowing fathers, even if I didn't like his interference at first. He decided not to mention any of that to Christophe or Blaine. Some things weren't for sharing, and his about-turn was one of them. All of a sudden Dylan felt free of worry, and a deep sense of contentment filled him. He grinned and lifted Mia into his arms, turning them around in a circle. She shrieked as her hair created an arc of fire and her legs swung out behind her.
"Put me down, you idiot. I'm too heavy." She hung on to his neck, and Dylan breathed in the essence of her. He'd recognize her perfect individual scent anywhere. It was imprinted on his mind. Fresh roses and vanilla, and all woman. His woman. That thought didn't faze him; it sent a deep blast of satisfaction into him.
"You're not too heavy, you know. You're perfect." He stole a quick kiss and set her on her feet. To his delight, she didn't move away and kept her arms around his neck as she leaned back and looked up at him.
"Hmm." Her lips quirked and she sniggered. "Rose-colored glasses, maybe?'
"Not at all. Twenty-twenty vision, I assure you. But if you say that, then let's eat to keep my stamina up."
"Ye—hold on a minute." She bit her lip. It was a sure sign she was worrying about something. He had to get her to stop marking herself like that. The only marks on her were to be his. He waited patiently for her to speak her mind.
"You said 'our'."
"Sorry?" Dylan was confused.
"You said our. He's our Head of Security. Not theirs. Ours." Mia looked at him accusingly. She dropped her arms from around his neck. Dylan promptly put them back and held them there.
Hell. What a time for a slip of the tongue. She's still not totally happy with everything then.
"Well," he replied, kissing her nose and thinking fast. "As I am technically employed here, even if it is only for a week, I'm part of the team. So it is 'our' Head of Security. I'm part of it. For now." He checked to see if she would buy the, admittedly, limp explanation. "And don't loosen your arms, I like them there."
"Mmm."
He'd bet she wasn't really convinced, but wasn't ready to make an issue of the matter, so she let the matter drop.
"And then what?" She nibbled her lip again.
Dylan was learning all her shows and tells, and this was one he wasn't happy about. He didn't want her to worry, only to be happy. Usually those words would remind him of a silly song from his youth, but now he hardly gave it a passing thought. His mind was full of Mia and how to ensure she was happy.
"In what way?" he asked guardedly.
"What will you do after this week?"
Phew.
"That depends, and no, we're not going to talk about it now. Now we're going to eat, and then part two of my fantasy starts." He nibbled a row of tiny kisses along her neck. The ploy worked, as well as his prick showing interest. Mia gasped and swayed before she moved her arms to snuggle her into his side. With a wink, Dylan made a bow and opened the door to usher her in. Mia greeted his extravagant gesture with a giggle. Dylan ushered her straight through the arch into the sitting and dining area. Christophe had done them proud. A glass-topped table was set for dinner with covered dishes, and a bottle of Champagne sat in a silver cooler.
"How on earth?" Mia stopped dead, and he almost plowed into her. "Is he psychic or something? It's amazing. Oh ho, he's forgotten something though, what about clothes? That table is glass. I'm nude . . . oh lordy." She fluttered her hand over her pussy.
"You're doing it again," Dylan teased her. That time she really had spoken aloud. "It arrived because I pressed a button at the pool before we left. No clothes required, unless you really need them, and yes, so am I. Nude. So, shall we sit?" His interest lay how she'd respond. With Mia, he'd discovered there was no telling unless she thought things through.
He pulled back a chair for her, and Mia sat down with a sigh.
"You confuse me, you know. So, what next?"
Dylan opened up a large napkin and placed it over her lap.
"Up to you, really. There," he said cheerfully. "All covered." Mia looked at her breasts and raised her eyebrows.
"You reckon?" She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Then she giggled. "Ah well, at least I won't mucky my clothes if I drop food."
"Oh please drop food, and I can lick it . . . er, clean it up." Dylan produced his best mock leer.
Mia punched him on his arm. "Oh lordy, I walked into that." She didn't seem worried.
Dylan moved opposite her and took the other chair. That damn napkin was so tempting as it covered her and hinted of hidden treasures. Above the tabletop, her breasts tempted him to touch and taste. Their rosy nipples echoed the color of her lush lips. With a resolve he didn't know he had, he sat down and unfolded his own napkin and shook it out. It was time to let her set the pace.
He hoped to hell he could keep that resolution long enough to see it through. "I rather think this is going to become a tent." His tone was rueful, and he winked as he settled the napkin. A further swift glance had confirmed his suspicions. He was right; a tent had appeared.
Mia looked across to where his hand hovered. She grinned, and giggled.
"Just a bit lower please and take a hold of the material and move it away. Oh, and yes, I did mean to say that aloud. I've turned over a new leaf."
"As you wish." Dylan dropped the linen square on the floor and took hold of his cock. He moved his hand up and down the hard length. The skin rippled and stretched beneath his fingers, sending a pulse of electricity through him. Pre-cum glistened on the head. With slow deliberation, he rubb
ed his fingers over the tiny slit and used the liquid to coat his prick.
It felt good. His cock was almost standing up and begging for attention, but he knew it would be a hell of a lot better if it were Mia's hand doing the touching. Had she truly decided to take a chance on them? He was sure he hadn't swayed her in any way, that mind bending was not his forte and against their creed anyway. Dylan decided to let her take charge and see what happened.
Mia swallowed. The ripple of her throat made his mouth dry. That innocent action made him desperate to taste her. She lifted her hand toward his face and let it drop.
"Will this dinner wait?" Her voice was husky.
"As long as you want," he assured her, thinking it could always be sent back to the kitchen and re-heated, even if Jacques did have a fit. If not, there was such a thing as a microwave. "Although, you did say you want my fantasy and in my fantasy, you'll imitate me. Do to yourself just what I'm doing to myself."
Mia gulped. Okay, it was one thing touching yourself by yourself; in fact, apart from the odd boring encounter, that had been the norm for more years than she remembered. But in front of someone else? That was more years than she cared to remember. However, she decided nothing ventured and all that. And she wanted to. She wanted to see his eyes spark with desire—for her. She needed to feel desired and cherished and the sole focus of someone's heat and passion. No, not someone, she admitted. This one.
She dropped the napkin onto the table next to her plate and with slow deliberation moved her hand downward to play with the curls covering her mound. They tickled her fingers and curled around her nails.
Should I shave? Have a short back and sides? Would he like that? The look of desire on Dylan face stopped her thinking. His eyes were dark, almost black, but they simmered with a heat that seared her. Mia's skin tingled and her nipples tightened. The muscles in her channel spasmed and it was all she could do not to demand he take over touching her so she could just feel. This was it, no turning back and no desire to. It was all so against the grain of her now normal attitude that Mia shook with the intensity of what she craved.
Impulse (Isola dei Sogni) Page 3
