by Cara Bristol
Lon laughed, his rich rumble huffing against her sensitized, needy skin, heightening the torment. He traced an outer pussy lip with the tip of his tongue.
“You’re being mean.” She moaned the accusation.
He swiped the fleshy cover of her clit, and she jerked and arched her back. The dangles swung, the weight of the beads tugging erotically on the tips, stirring a pang in her womb.
“I’m being mean?” His gaze tracked the swaying chains. “Who tied who to the bed?”
“Are you going to make me beg?” she asked.
Pressing his chin to her vulva, Lon drew stinging, blissful circles. Dana shivered and caved. “Do you want me to untie you?” He shook his head.
“It’s way too late for that, sweetheart,” he said. “Spread yourself open for me.”
Dana pulled her labia apart, and Lon dug into her pussy with gusto. Using his lips, his teeth, and his tongue, he flicked, nibbled, and sucked. Legs trembling, Dana shifted on his face to bring his mouth where she wanted it. When she pulled back, he lashed her clit. When she pressed the bud against his nose, he fucked her hole with his tongue. Holy Christ, that man knew how to eat pussy!
But she didn’t want to come on his face—not this time. She yanked away.
Lon’s chin and mouth glistened with her juices. “In the drawer,” he said hoarsely and jerked his head toward the nightstand. Dana snagged a condom. Though her clit and pussy pulsed with impatient need, she had to taste him one more time. She licked the precum pooled on his abdomen, enjoyed the way he shuddered under her touch, and then drew his cockhead into her mouth, going deep on his rod, relishing its thickness, its hardness, but most of all, Lon’s curses.
She released him so she could roll the latex onto his erection. Straddling his hips, she grasped his cock and positioned him at her entrance, rubbing the head in her wetness to prepare for entry. Slowly, she sat down and impaled herself, sucking in air through her mouth at the stretch. Discomfort surrendered to pleasure-pain, then total bliss when he was buried and throbbing inside her. She’d tormented them both long enough, and her cunt clenched around him possessively. Dana breathed through her mouth, delighting in the sensation of being stuffed to the max but thankful he wasn’t any bigger. She doubted her body was capable of taking any more with ease.
Dana raised herself until only his crown was embedded, then shoved herself down again. Again. Slow, then hard and fast. Raw, sharp satisfaction seesawed, but she needed more.
“For God’s sake, just fuck me,” Lon ordered and thrust his hips upward as he yanked on his bindings.
Dana leaned forward and untied the knots. As soon as she freed one hand, Lon removed the dangles from her nipples and drew an engorged, aching peak into his mouth. He sucked hard, bit harder, but she was past wanting gentle. She needed his roughness, his aggression, craved it to the point that nothing else would suffice. Wasn’t that why she’d bound him? To push him to the brink?
When she released his other hand, he grabbed her hips and slammed her onto his cock as he thrust into her from below. Though she was on top, control had slipped from her hands into his. Triumph swelled on a tide of ecstasy.
“God, the way you feel. So fucking tight. So wet,” Lon grunted. He tugged her nipples as she rode him, squeezing and pinching, an erotic assault that drew whimpers of pleasure from her throat.
“You like it a little rough, don’t you, Dana?”
Her cunt convulsed. “Sometimes.” She cried out in ecstasy as he twisted her nipples.
Her straining thighs quivered as she pistoned herself on his cock, and he reciprocated with forceful thrusts to grant her what she craved. Her cunt would be sore in the morning, but long-suppressed yearnings demanded fulfillment. Her clit burned with sensation, her cunt and womb shuddered. Just when she thought she’d die if she didn’t come, Lon raised his head and sank his teeth into her nipple. An immense pleasure whipped through her, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Stars exploded as she climaxed, shuddering and wailing. He shouted and came, his cock convulsing as her contracting pussy milked him. When her orgasm subsided, she collapsed atop him. Lon’s strong arms cradled her against his chest.
Chapter Six
Her spine ramrod straight, Dana wound through the crowd to the hostess’s podium. She didn’t dare glance at Lon—even a glimpse of his sexy smirk would unravel her like a knit sweater. Disbelief and desire coiled in the pit of her stomach—she’d actually let him do it! She tensed her ass cheeks and reassured herself that if anyone noticed how stiffly she was moving, they would think she had good posture. How the hell was she going to sit through dinner when the short ride to the restaurant had driven her to the edge of her endurance? Every bump in the road ricocheted through a system gone haywire—had Lon aimed for potholes deliberately? She wouldn’t put it past him. The doctor had a devilish streak.
She forced herself to pay attention to the harried hostess, who informed them of a forty-five-minute wait for a table. Having forfeited their dinner reservations, they had ended up at this family-style Italian restaurant, packed to maximum occupancy by other late diners.
“Every other place will be like this,” Lon said into her ear.
“Okay,” Dana agreed.
“Table for two,” he told the hostess and gave his first name. Dana marveled at how natural he acted.
“We’ll buzz you.” The hostess handed them a large, flat pager. Dana’s body was already vibrating. Their fucking only temporarily had relieved her clawing sexual need; Lon had seen to that. Damn him. Her teasing prank had spiraled out of her control. Payback was a bitch, as they said.
Lon clasped her hand and shouldered his way back outside. She followed him, every nerve ending on high alert. After the residual soreness of the Brazilian, the burn of Lon’s stubbled face, and the friction of his pounding cock, her pussy announced itself with a twinge on every step, yet wept and begged for more action.
But her creaming cunt was the symptom, not the cause of her current problem.
Lon led her to an open spot on a bench, and Dana gingerly settled into a seated position. He plopped down beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He relieved her of the sweater she was holding and dropped it on his lap.
“Comfortable?” Amusement glinted in his eyes.
Her lips twitched at her predicament, but she glared at him for good measure anyway. “No, damn you.”
“You didn’t have to let me do it,” he reminded her with a grin.
No more than he had had to allow her to bind him with his own neckties. Turnabout was fair play, but it was the molten heat of his gaze that had aroused a wanton desire to experiment and convinced her to accept his surprise.
A supple, flexible, small anal plug.
One that didn’t feel nearly so supple, flexible, or small when it nestled inside her, and she sat on it. Dana squirmed on the bench. Or when she moved. Especially when she moved. Its presence, its foreignness, focused her attention on her body, stirring arousal, then incrementally turning up the heat. What started to simmer at Lon’s condo had become a full, roiling boil.
Leave it to a doctor to find and exploit erogenous zones. Or maybe Lon’s youth made him more adventurous than men her age. She’d never engaged in anal play before. She was fairly certain Roger would have been horrified if she’d ever suggested it.
God, she felt wicked. Naughty. She would have preferred to order pizza in, but knew that part of Lon’s enjoyment arose from watching her navigate in public while trying to act naturally. Though he appeared perfectly relaxed, his cock was as rigid as a log, hence his seeming solicitation in holding her sweater.
Her torment tormented him. As it should be. Look what he’d done to her! Her inner thighs were sticky with moisture, and even without the jewelry, desire tautened her nipples to points. Thank God her shirt’s thick fabric at least covered how red they were.
Dana scrutinized the waiting diners, but no one seemed to notice or care if an older woman with nipples poking out o
f her blouse cuddled next to a stud with a sweater draped across his lap, so she relaxed against Lon’s strong body—as much as she could with a lubed plug up her ass. Even more than sex, she had missed the security and belonging being held by a man elicited. During the last months of her marriage, she and Roger never touched, and he had abandoned her emotionally years before that.
A warrior woman, she fought the good fight at work, struggled to glue together the pieces of a disintegrating marriage, and battled to retrain what little of value she still possessed in the ensuing divorce. So it was damn nice to throw down her sword and shield and let a man take control for a change.
But not just any man. Lon. He renewed and replenished her inner resources, which had been on the verge of being depleted. Her wellspring overflowed with energy, life, and passion. Lon filled her emotionally and physically. Physically. She clamped her lips together to suppress a ribald snort.
If she wasn’t a dirty old lady before she’d met Lon, she’d certainly become one now. Her clit pulsed with need, and Dana muttered a curse.
“Did you say something?” Lon’s breath tickled her ear.
“I said nice night,” Dana improvised.
His chest vibrated with silent laughter. “I thought that’s what you said.” Lon’s sexy rumble caressed her, and she bit back another expletive as a fresh current of desire sizzled through her. Lon spoke, and her body answered.
Think about something else, Dana. She returned her attention to the other waiting diners. Young families with two parents and children. Senior citizens. Groups of friends. Dating pairs. Some interracial twosomes. An obviously gay male couple and a probable lesbian partnership. No older woman, younger man configurations, but as she studied the crowd, she realized the world was adapting to accept diversity. So what if she was older than Lon? If she was happy and he was happy, then they were happy. End of story. She hugged Lon’s arm, and he responded with a squeeze.
A throng of people exited the restaurant and wove their way down the path. In the middle of the crowd, a young guy with dark hair and glasses glanced in their direction. He stopped suddenly and earned himself some dirty looks. “Sorry,” he said and stepped out of the stream.
“Hey, man!” He focused on Lon.
“Hey!” Lon stood up, and they slapped each other on the back.
When they finished their friendly beating, Lon turned to Dana. “This is Joey Gould, a buddy of mine. He’s a resident at the hospital too.”
Dana held her breath, wondering how Lon would introduce her. She scanned her memory banks for a word to describe their relationship but came up with nothing. “Girlfriend” didn’t fit because they hadn’t known each other long, and she was forty-five years old. Not a girl. Yet “friend” negated their intimacy. If he introduced her as his parents’ neighbor, she’d curl up and die.
Lon glanced at Joey, then back at her. “This is Dana Markus.”
Her name. How simple. Why did she make everything complicated?
Joey arched his eyebrows. “The Dana?” He smiled warmly. “It’s nice to meet you.”
What did he mean, the Dana? Bemused, she shook his hand and parroted a greeting.
While Dana analyzed all the possible meanings of “the,” Lon and his buddy exchanged small talk about hospital business. Finally, Joey said, “Well, hey, I’d better run.” They pounded on each other again, and then Joey turned to Dana. “Again, great to meet you.” Dana responded in kind, and with a wave, Joey departed.
Lon resettled on the bench with his arm across her shoulders and pulled her close. “Joey is one of my best friends. We roomed together during med school.”
“What did he mean by the Dana?”
Lon shrugged. “Just that he got to apply a face to the name I’ve been talking about.”
Dana twisted her body to look at Lon. “You’ve talked about me?”
“I mentioned you a few times.”
She couldn’t keep from grinning with pleasure “What did you say about me?”
Lon’s arm tightened around her, and his mouth tickled her ear. “I told Joey,” he whispered, “that a gorgeous divorcée who belongs in a Playboy centerfold ripped off her swimsuit, lured me into her pool, and proceeded to suck my cock until my eyes rolled back into my head.”
“You didn’t say that!” Dana stiffened in alarm and felt her passage spasm with shameless pleasure around the toy. Only his description of her as a gorgeous Playmate was off—the rest of his assessment hit dead on.
Lon chuckled and shook his head. “No, I didn’t say that, but that’s how I like to remember it.”
“You would.” Dana relaxed and stroked his thigh, curling her fingers into the muscle above his knee. That he considered her significant enough to mention to a friend delivered a kick to her heart. She hadn’t told anybody she was seeing someone because the relationship was so new—and she’d had misgivings. But Lon didn’t, and he had talked about her. His simple act of caring flooded her with warmth.
He wound a strand of her hair around his finger, and Dana turned her face toward him. Lust glinted in his eyes, but as they stared at each other, his gaze softened with fondness. Her stomach fluttered as the protective wall around her heart caved. After the divorce, Dana had worried that she might not be able to trust a man again. She not only trusted Lon—she was falling for him.
“This isn’t a fling to me,” Lon said.
“No.” Dana inhaled. “For me either.” Hearing his admission and making hers rolled a boulder off her chest as if all her past hurts had tumbled off. She felt freer, lighter, as if she instantaneously had dropped ten pounds. She was on the Lon diet. She could partake of decadent delights, and not only would she not gain weight—she’d lose some.
Dana leaned her head on Lon’s shoulder and caressed his knee.
“Oh, my God.”
Dana jerked at the familiar-sounding shocked intonation.
Katie and two of her friends stood on the walk.
“What are you doing here?” Her daughter’s gaze shifted from Dana’s hand to Lon’s face, her eyes widening as recognition of his identity dawned.
“We’re waiting for dinner,” Dana answered, keeping her hand in place.
Katie shifted her purse from one shoulder to the other. “We just finished.”
“Katie, I believe you know Lon Corbin?”
“We’ve waved once or twice.” Katie nodded at Lon, then looked away.
Lon stood. “Hi. Nice to officially meet you.” He flashed a friendly grin and shook her hand.
“These are my daughter’s friends, Marissa and Jillian.” Dana introduced the other girls. More hands were shaken, and Lon took his seat again.
“Have you spoken to Dad lately?” Katie asked, putting an extra emphasis on the word “Dad.”
“We’ve been in touch about the divorce settlement,” Dana said. “Have you been to see your father?”
“You should go,” Katie said abruptly.
“What?” Dana frowned.
“Your pager. It’s going off.”
Dana followed Katie’s gaze to the flashing, vibrating device. “So it is.” Dana rose to her feet, trying to act as natural as possible. “Let’s go shopping one day,” she suggested.
Katie nodded. “Okay.
“Nice to meet you,” Lon said, and Katie’s gaze did a touchdown landing on Lon’s face before skidding away.
“Nice to meet you too,” she monotoned. Katie’s friends chimed bye, and they huddled on Katie’s flanks as they moved down the walk. They’d gone a dozen paces when Dana heard Marissa giggle. “Your mom’s boyfriend is cute!”
Dana couldn’t hear her daughter’s muttered response, but Marissa’s comment didn’t sit favorably, judging by the rigidity of Katie’s posture.
“Well, let’s not lose our table.” Dana tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Lon’s arm curled possessively around her waist to guide her into the restaurant. After they were shown to their table, he spoke.
“Is it just me,
or was your daughter a little uncomfortable?”
Dana sighed. “I’d hoped you hadn’t noticed, but no, it wasn’t just you. Even though her father has a girlfriend, I think Katie was surprised to see me with someone. Maybe it’s the age thing.” She shrugged. “But then again, Roger’s girlfriend is even younger than you, and Katie was the one who said age is just a number.”
Their waitress appeared, and they each ordered a glass of red wine and decided to split a pizza. After the server brought their wine and salads, Lon’s gaze turned serious.
“Does Katie’s reaction change anything, the way you feel about us?”
“Not in the least.” Dana flipped a lock of hair over her shoulder. “I did worry what people would think. And no one’s opinion matters more than my family’s. But I didn’t choose to divorce her father—he left me, and I have a right to be happy. Katie will have to adjust.”
* * * *
Lon pulled up to the curb outside her house, and Dana’s heart started to pound. Her arousal that had kept her perpetually wet and repeatedly squeezing the plug spun into high gear. A giddy nervousness beat a rapid tattoo through her veins. Lon had never told her exactly what he had in store for her.
Dana licked her lips. “Would you like to come in?” she asked, knowing full well he would.
He flashed a what-do-you-think look and bounded out of the car to open her door. Dana eased out, never more cognizant of the toy than she was in that moment. Her ass was clenched; her cunt was spasming.
Dana led the way under a starlight canopy and a silver crescent moon, hyperaware of Lon’s hand on her spine. Despite a layer of clothing, her nerves danced under the light pressure of his fingers. She savored his possessiveness, the way he maintained physical contact.
When she moved to unlock her front door, he trapped her against it with his body. The house keys fell from her fingers.
“What are you doing?” she gasped, weakness stealing through her legs.
“Put your hands on the door,” he ordered. His breath steamed against her neck and tingled all the way down her spine.
