Free Ocean's Touch by Denise Townsend Page B

cock, knowing that he was losing control and using her for his own pleasure. She did her best to suck at the hard shaft pistoning in and out of her mouth, using her tongue as much as she could, wanting to feel him spend for her.
    Dylan knew he was close, knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from coming—her mouth was too warm, too tight, too sweet.
    “I’m gonna come, lass,” he growled, feeling his orgasm rising in his balls. Her only response was to suck him deeper and harder, her eyes locked on his as if she wanted to see his pleasure when he came.
    Which he did, his back arching and his hand clenched in her hair, low, rough groans pouring out of him as he came in long spurts of pleasure. He felt her mouth working, swallowing all of him, her tongue still caressing his turgid length.
    When she she’d finished, swallowing every last drop of him, Meredith pulled away. Dylan didn’t collapse on the floor, however, demanding water and a sandwich, for the fey were made of sterner stuff than that.
    Instead Dylan ran his fingers over her lips, as if thanking them for their hard work. Then the selkie stood, pulling her with him. Within seconds he’d stripped her of her yoga gear—thanking his lucky stars when he didn’t find a pair of tights under her loose pants—and had backed her against the breakfast table, reaching an arm behind her to shove aside their mugs, roughly.
    “My turn,” he warned, his lips bowed in a predatory smile, as he lifted her up so she sprawled before him, more delicious than any buffet. Spreading her legs with rough alacrity, he watched her face as he slid his fingers into her warm wetness.
    “You’re soaked,” he purred, bringing his fingers to his lips for a taste. Breathless, Meredith watched him suck his fingers into his mouth, tasting her. Then his hand was back at her cunt, two thick fingers dipping deeper into her as his thumb found her clit.
    She moaned, her nails scrabbling at the hard wood of the breakfast table, knowing she wouldn’t last long with such treatment. When she felt the fingers of his other hand moving her own wetness down to her asshole, she shuddered.
    “I want to fuck you here,” he said, pushing his middle finger deep inside her ass. She groaned, feeling so full.
    “Not now,” he said, working her clit with his thumb as he withdrew his finger from her tight anus. “But soon,” he finished, pushing into her again, this time with two fingers.
    “Oh my God,” she whispered, feeling her climax building in her belly as his fingers worked her cunt, her ass, and her clit. All she could think of was his cock replacing his fingers, inside her ass.
    Dylan keeping his eyes on Meredith, enjoyed watching her pleasure. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her muscles clenched around his fingers, a look of almost painful rapture suffusing her lovely features. Another wash of wetness soaked his fingers, and he smiled.
    “Come for me, lass. Let yourself go. Come for me…”
    She held her breath, urging on her own orgasm, as he pumped her with his fingers.
    “Come for me…” he commanded again.
    She released her breath with a shuddering cry, only to suck up another long draught of oxygen. Her eyes on his were pleading.
    He leaned farther over her, his fingers plunging in deeper, as he curled the fingers in her cunt just enough to stroke her inner walls. Seeking out the tough pad of her deepest pleasure with his clever fingers, he stared deep into her eyes.
    “I said, come for me,” Dylan told Meredith, his voice fierce. “Now.”
    And with that, she broke—the pleasure of her orgasm washing over her, suffusing her cheeks and breasts with color. As she groaned, her spine arching, he took her nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly as he withdrew his fingers from her ass, but kept working her pussy until she stopped shuddering around him.
    Only then did his fingers still, as he enjoyed the aftershocks wringing her tight channel.
    Meredith pulled him down into a fierce