Reckless in Moonlight

by Cara Bristol

  Her nipples already dusted his chest, but the devil shoved her closer so that her breasts flattened against his pecs and his young man’s cock dug into her abdomen. His skin should have been cool from the water, but he radiated Lucifer’s own heat. Her pussy quivered and moistened.

  Move away, the panicked angel cried. Dana didn’t dare peek at Lon’s face but focused on his neck instead, taking an anatomical inventory of corded muscles, a masculine Adam’s apple, his unshaven jaw. The throbbing pulse.

  He lifted her chin with a sure touch and kissed her. Heat and chills raced through Dana as his lips moved on hers, his stubble grazing her chin, his tongue delving inside her mouth to explore with a thoroughness that had her moaning. Fantasy couldn’t compare to the taste of Lon, butterscotch and man, sex and heaven baked into one sinful, soul-stealing dessert. The devil chortled as the angel fell.

  Lon tangled his fingers in her wet hair, wrapping the strands around his fingers. Her scalp tingled. It was so similar to her fantasy that her knees buckled, and she sagged against him, clutching his shoulders for support. He tugged her head back to continue to plunder her mouth while he kneaded a breast. He traced the outline of her areola with a finger, then pinched the erect nipple, gently at first, but as it tightened, so did his fingers.

  He relinquished her lips and hair to pluck at the nipple and draw on the other with his mouth, the heat and suction sending zings of pleasure from her breast to womb.

  Dana moaned as he slipped a hand downward to rub her clit with a back-and-forth motion. When he dipped into her cunt, it was his turn to groan.

  “You’re wet. So fucking wet.” He pushed his finger deeper, then added a second and fucked her with his hand while teasing her clit with his thumb.

  Dana slid her hands from his shoulders down over his chest and brushed his erect nipples before seeking out her prize. It took two hands to encircle his cock. She closed her eyes as she stroked him like a blind woman reading from touch to memorize the smooth mushroom head, the thick encompassing ridge, the steely shaft. Waves lapped at his body and Dana yearned to be that water.

  He bit her nipple, delivering a sting of pleasure. “Your tits are more perfect than I imagined, your cunt hotter and tighter.” Lon released her and took a step back, the movement pulling his cock out of her grasp. She followed his gaze to her chest. Illuminated by the moon, her nipples stuck out like two bullets, forming a men’s magazine cartoon caricature of a woman’s torso. The tips of her breasts had never been so engorged, so achy for a man’s touch.

  He must have read her mind, because he tugged on each one, pulling and twisting with just the right amount of firmness. “Have you ever thought of having your nipples pierced? Put a ring here, and here.” He pinched the base of each peak. “Gorgeous.”

  Piercings were for young, slim girls—not middle-aged women who had to watch every ounce they put in their mouths and still exercise like a marathoner to keep the weight off—but she shivered with the possibilities his suggestion afforded. She envisioned her breasts chained together, Lon tugging on the leash, pretending to force her to go down on him. Maybe it wasn’t such a crazy idea.

  His eyes burned hot, and his nostril flared. “I didn’t expect this. I don’t have a condom with me.”

  Nor did she.

  Dana peered at him from under her lashes. “Why don’t we see what we can do without one?”

  Dana’s sultry smile shot straight to his cock in a burst of heat. Every touch, hell, every glance from this sexy woman fed the furnace of desire, stoking the flames of lust higher and higher. When she leaned forward and licked his nipple, scraped her teeth across the nub, his cock twitched. It was probably a good thing he’d jerked off in the tree house.

  His assumption had been correct. Her breasts did fill his palms, but, due to his lack of foresight, he was unable to verify another hunch—that her steaming pussy would fit his erection like a glove. God, he wished he could fuck her without a rubber. Just skin to skin, wet heat to hard shaft.

  “Son of a bitch!” Lon hissed and threw his head back when Dana closed her lips around his cockhead. Sharp sensation sliced at his insides at the pull of her slick mouth. She swirled her tongue over his slit, around the ridge, and then sucked him deeper still. Lon braced his feet apart to avoid collapsing under her sensual assault.

  Dana gazed up at him, her lustful gleam whipping the inferno. Did she know how erotic it was to have her watch him as she gave him head? That she desired him as much as he wanted her made his balls clench. Even the pool’s water lapping at his sac couldn’t douse the heat.

  He groaned as his cock prodded her throat. How did she manage to take him so deep? And so tightly? Her delicate hands around the base of his cock fisted him as she sucked firmly, and pressure built.

  “Yeah, that’s it. You’re so good,” he groaned. Holy fuck, this woman gave good head. Her cheeks hollowed, and the sweet music of lewd slurping noises filled his ears. He pinched the hard tips of her beasts, and Dana’s moan of enjoyment jolted through him from his balls to his pounding chest. She had the perfect nipples for piercing, long and thick. So sexy. Not that she wasn’t hot enough already—she was over-the-top. She must have sensed he was close to coming, because she increased her efforts in a perfect choreography of movement between her mouth and hands. Faster, harder. Suck and swipe. Deep. Wet. Hot.

  “Ohfuckohfuck!” Lon grabbed her head and thrust his hips, pounding into her as a fireball exploded from the base of his cock. Hot cum spewed like a geyser into her receptive mouth.

  Dana cleaned Lon’s cock with her tongue. To swallow or not to swallow—she’d had no choice. He’d shot his load straight down her throat—she’d forgotten the strong force of a young man’s ejaculation. Not that she was complaining. Dana loved everything about giving Lon head: the powerful thrust of his hips, his almost panicked expression, the surge of his semen traveling the full length of his cock, the explosion in her mouth, and, like the frosting on a cake, the creamy texture and tang of his cum. A full sensory experience.

  She licked her lips, then yelped in surprise when Lon yanked her into his arms.

  He kissed her fiercely, plundering her mouth as if every pent-up need suddenly had found an outlet. Hers had. Her pussy clenched with pleasure that he would kiss her with his cum lingering on her lips. Roger never would. He never did a lot of things; sex with her ex had been like fucking inside a tiny box—no room for movement. She’d felt constricted, feared doing the wrong thing and shocking him. But she had been a faithful wife, using her fantasies to fulfill her desires instead.

  Dana kissed Lon, gratitude and desire merging into a frantic dance as her tongue stroked his. She moaned and leaned into his muscled chest, rubbed her achy nipples against his skin.

  Lon squeezed her ass cheeks, then grabbed her hand to lead her to the pool’s edge. “Your turn.” He grinned, and her clit pulsed in anticipation, moisture flooding her pussy.

  As if she weighed nothing at all, he gripped her waist and plopped her on the deck. Dana’s breath caught in her throat.

  Lon kissed her, gently this time, brushing over her lips. He trailed his mouth to her ear, traced the whorls with his tongue, his breath sending hot shivers up her spine. “I want to eat your pussy, feel your cunt squeeze my fingers as you come,” he whispered.

  No problem. Her pussy was contracting already.

  He pressed her breasts together and flicked his tongue from one nipple to the next before taking a tip into his mouth, generating an ache throughout her sex. He treated the other bud to the same treatment, then drew back to examine his handiwork.

  “You have beautiful tits.”

  Dana bit her lip to stifle a whimper of pleasure his compliment elicited. She wanted to be beautiful to someone.

  Lon lifted her dangling legs and positioned her heels on the pool deck, spreading her thighs to expose her cunt. Almost reverently, he touched the hood of her clit, her swollen labia, then penetrated her channel.

  “You’re so wet
.”

  She was. Now that the water wasn’t washing away her moisture, her juices were pooling, overflowing into the crack of her ass. Lon twisted his finger as if scooping her moisture and withdrew it. Maintaining eye contract, he sucked the digit clean.

  “An appetizer,” he said, grinning wolfishly, and her heart skipped with excitement.

  He bent his head and covered her sex with his mouth, and the organ in her chest stopped beating all together. Dana whimpered at the soft, abrasive, nearly forgotten sensation of a man’s mouth on her cunt. And not just any man’s—Lon’s.

  His stubbled jaw rasped her sensitive skin, his velvet lips caressed her folds, and his tongue, oh God, his tongue fluttered over her clit, like flickers from a flame. With his fingers, he spread her wide open to the blissful assault of his mouth. Unable to stay upright, Dana fell back onto her elbows and arched her neck in surrender to the cascade of sensation brought on by Lon’s touch.

  Lon penetrated her cunt with one digit, then two, fucking in and out, slow, then fast, hard, then soft. Her clit was burning, drawing tighter and tighter, her muscles contracting with the tiny ripples. Dana breathed through her mouth and nose, unable to suck in enough air.

  “You’re so good, so good,” she gasped and, against her flesh, felt his lips curve into a smile.

  “I aim to please.” He pulled back her clitoral hood to suck the nub, and fire blazed through her clitoris. On their own, her hips bucked, the cement abrading her cheeks. She would be scraped tomorrow, she knew, but she was oblivious to the pain of it now.

  Her pussy juices and his saliva trickled over the rosebud of her ass to puddle on the deck. He circled her puckered sphincter with a single finger, maybe a thumb, applied gentle pressure, then paused. Dana’s breath caught in her throat, and her heart thumped.

  “Yes.” Dana exhaled on a hiss. She hadn’t gone this far to falter now.

  He eased past the double ring of muscle into her ass, lubing his way with her own moisture. The foreign pressure and fullness ratcheted her need to a new level. Raw pleasure bombarded her in waves as he reamed both her ass and her pussy, his fingers working in tandem to make her body hum. Tension coiled in her clit, her pussy, and her ass, and then she exploded into a powerful orgasm.

  Mindless of neighbors, Dana wailed, pushed up with her heels, and pushed her hips at Lon’s face. “Harder, harder,” she begged, and he obliged by slamming his fingers into her with gratifying force.

  When she stopped shuddering, he pulled her off the deck and into his arms. He kissed her, and it was her turn to taste her own cum on his lips. Her pussy still quivered, and her ass remembered the friendly invasion. She’d never had a man stick his finger up there before. God, what she’d been missing.

  “Next time, I’ll be prepared and fuck you properly,” he said.

  With his words, reason tiptoed to the edge of her consciousness. Qualms at what she’d unleashed fluttered in her stomach. Dana widened her eyes. “Next time?”

  He grinned. “Many times.”

  * * * *

  Her towel wrapped tucked securely under her arms, Dana paused outside her patio door and glanced back at Lon, still in the pool, moonlight glinting off his shoulders. If Sports Illustrated published a swimsuit edition for women rather than of women, he’d be in it. He’d asked for a glass of water, but Dana’s mouth had gone dry too.

  “Would you like a beer instead?” she called.

  He smiled, flashing white teeth and sex appeal. “That would be great.”

  Dana ducked inside, and sanity roared back with vengeance. She clapped a hand over her mouth in disbelief. She still could feel the brush of Lon’s lips, the scrape of his evening shadow on her face and her pussy. She squeezed her pelvic muscles—and the pressure of his finger.

  Lon was young enough to be her son, and after the scorn she’d heaped upon Roger, she’d acted no differently.

  But you didn’t cheat. You didn’t break up a marriage.

  And, God help her, Lon made her feel again. She hadn’t realized how heavy the blanket of numbness was, how much it had dulled her senses until Lon lifted the weight. Gravity did not exist; she didn’t need a pool to float in—air was sufficient. Her body vibrated with energy from her hair follicles to her peddied toenails. Desire tasted like sun-ripened strawberries—no, like rich, creamy butterscotch.

  Like the man outside waiting for a beer.

  Dana sighed as the devil on her shoulder lost his footing to the angel, who reclaimed her perch. As attracted as she was to Lon, she could not allow this madness to continue. She would bring him a beer, chat a bit, and then yawn and shove him out the gate. She’d chalk this up to a midlife crisis exacerbated by a full moon.

  So why was she racing to her bedroom and rooting through her drawer for a pair of sexy lace undies? The devil tittered and scrambled back to his perch. She yanked a flirty dress off a hanger and pulled it on. I just want to look presentable when I kick his ass out.

  In the kitchen, she emptied a couple of cold beers into two frosty mugs. She fortified herself with a deep breath, steeled her spine, picked up the glasses, and flipped on the patio lights to dilute the lunar glow. Too much exposure to moonlight made people reckless.

  Dana didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at how fast her resolve collapsed when she saw Lon. He was the gift inside the pretty box, and her good intentions crumpled like tissue paper. She should have left the lights off; Lon looked even sexier when she could view him in his full glory. Shirtless, he’d donned his faded jeans, which did little to disguise that his erection hadn’t subsided one iota. How he managed to zip his pants with that hard beauty was a mystery. You’d think he would be uncomfortable, but, seemingly at ease, he sprawled in a chair and stretched out his long legs.

  Dana’s heart contracted with equal parts dismay and desire. He looked like he belonged on her patio. Worse, she wanted to keep him there.

  “You’re back.” He flashed his devastating whites, but a glint of relief in his eyes betrayed he wasn’t as confident as he appeared. It made her want him more.

  She handed him a mug and forced her tongue from the roof of her mouth where it had become affixed. “I’m sorry. I should have brought you a towel. I didn’t think.” That was an understatement. Her rational brain activity stood at an all-time low. She tried not to eye the wet patches that outlined his crotch.

  Lon shrugged. “I used my T-shirt.” He nodded toward the damp wad of material on another chair. The water had darkened his blond hair, and under the brighter light, his eyes appeared bluer than her bright pool tiles at midday. A few droplets of water beaded on his shoulders. He scooted a chair next to his and patted the seat. “I want to show you something.”

  With equal parts eagerness and reluctance, she sat. She wanted to be near him but feared it would undermine her good intentions.

  Lon pulled a small camera out of his back pocket. She recognized it as the one he’d had when he’d emerged from the fort. “I want you to see what’s on here,” he explained.

  “No.” Dana shook her head. “You don’t need to do that. I believe you.”

  “I don’t want you to have any doubts,” he insisted.

  She had plenty of those, but she was sure about the photos.

  He powered up the camera and handed it to her. “Press this button here to advance the images.”

  To humor him, she clicked through the photos. Many were out of focus or ill-framed, while others were lopsided.

  “My brothers snapped almost all of these. They’re active little shutterbugs. They don’t know it, but they’re each getting a camera for their birthday. My parents want theirs back.”

  She recognized her neighbors, the family’s house, and their two cars. She smiled at pictures of the gap-toothed boys making grotesque faces. With them being identical twins, she couldn’t tell if it was the same boy or if they were taking turns. Lon leaned over her shoulder to watch as she clicked through the frames.

  Dana could see a strong resemblanc
e between Lon and his younger brothers. They had similar blond hair, although Lon’s was a shade or two darker. With their bright blue eyes and mischievous grins, they would one day be heartbreakers in their own right. “You look a lot like your brothers. Except you have all your teeth,” she teased.

  She paused at a blurry image. “Is that what I think it is?” She glanced at Lon. His mouth quirked with humor.

  “Yep. That’s my brother’s butt. Due to the poor photo quality and the fact that they’re twins, I can’t identify whether that’s Jeff or Braden.”

  Dana laughed with a lightness she hadn’t felt in a long time. Lon chuckled too, and the intimacy of their shared amusement caressed the parts of her soul that had been fractured by betrayal. Disconcerted by the soothing feeling, she continued through the frames.

  She squinted at a picture of two dark oval-like shapes. “I’m almost afraid to ask. What is this?”

  Lon grinned. “Nostrils. Extreme close-up. Again, not sure which brother, but I believe he’s making a pig face.” He pressed a finger against the tip of his nose and flattened it.

  “There isn’t much that doesn’t capture their interest, is there?”

  “Not much,” Lon agreed. Amusement and affection crinkled his eyes.

  “How long will your family be gone?” she asked idly.

  “A week—or until Dad’s patience runs out. Whichever comes first.” He glanced at the tree house. “Just so you know, my folks didn’t intend to build the fort so tall. They hired a contractor to build it, but there was a miscommunication.”

  Dana shrugged. “I’ve adjusted. You said your brothers were getting cameras on their next birthday. How old will they be?”

  “Thirty-five,” he answered deadpan.

  Dana cocked an eyebrow.

  “You’ll see.” He motioned for her to continue viewing the photos. “To most people, however, they’ll appear to be eight.” Lon looked at her. “I was twenty-eight on my last birthday.”

  Older than she thought, but still too young for her to have played naked pool party with him. “I’m forty-five.”