“Is this turning you on?” she asked, her voice low.
His answer was a groan of torment. If she didn’t touch his dick soon, he was going to die. The fifth line of hot wax had him sucking air between his teeth and his c**k jerking with over excitement. A bead of moisture dripped from the rim of his c**k head, and she caught it with her tongue, looking at him with those incredible eyes as she rubbed the small drop of fluid against her upper lip.
“Do you want me?” she asked, reaching for one of two condom packages resting near his hip.
His stomach ached, he was so turned on, but he couldn’t find the mental capacity to even nod. She tore the package open and removed the circle of cream-colored latex. He shuddered as her hand wrapped around his thick, hard-as-granite shaft. She directed his head into her mouth and the pleasure caused his arms to give out. The back of his head thumped against the piano lid, but he didn’t care. All he could focus on was the bliss Dawn’s mouth gifted him.
“Oh God, baby,” he moaned.
He groaned in misery when he fell free of his mouth. She rolled the condom down his length and then stepped away. His eyes flipped open when the piano keys pinged discordantly. She climbed onto the lid of the piano with him and placed a hand on his hip to coax him toward the center of the piano. Lying on his back on her beloved instrument, he felt panic seize his heart. What was he doing?
She straddled his hips, staring into his eyes, her glorious red hair surrounding her shoulders like a shimmering cloak. She held his gaze as she reached between her legs, grasped his cock, and rubbed its tip against her opening.
He squeezed his eyes closed. His stomach was in knots. He could scarcely breathe.
“Look at me, Kellen,” she said gently. “It’ll be okay.”
He opened his eyes, focused on Dawn’s face, her eyes, and a bit of the panic receded. He slipped inside her, and she moved her hand so she could take him inch by glorious inch. When he was buried deep, her eyes drifted closed.
“I feel you, Kellen,” she whispered. “Inside my body. Inside my soul. I feel you.”
“Yes,” he said breathlessly, not sure why his heart was thudding so hard or why his eyes were stinging with threatening tears.
She began to rise and fall over him, churning her hips to increase her stimulation and drive him deeper. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she gave his body unparalleled pleasure. He wasn’t sure if it was because she’d gotten him so excited beforehand, but sex had never felt so good. Maybe his memory was just iffy because it had been so long, but he didn’t think so. Dawn just felt good, felt right. Felt safe and warm, exciting and soothing, all at once.
He lifted his hands to massage her br**sts as she made love to him. When she began to croon as her orgasm approached, he shifted the palm of his hand to her lower belly and massaged her soft mound with his thumb.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Almost, Kellen.”
Her motions became exaggerated as she sought orgasm. His thumb slipped into the cleft between her swollen lips and rubbed her clit. Her back arched and she cried out, her thighs trembling and her pu**y clenching around him as she shattered.
He struggled into a seated position and ran both hands over her smooth back, bending to kiss her throat, her jaw, her lips. She rubbed her br**sts against his chest as her arms went around him to hold him close. She dropped her head to his shoulder and took a deep breath.
“I knew you’d be perfect,” she said. “Inside me. Perfect.”
They clung to each other for a long moment. Kellen’s c**k began to protest the stillness between them.
He rolled her onto her back, maintaining the connection between their bodies. Her grip loosened just enough for him to thrust.
Ah God, she felt good. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted to plunge into her tight pu**y for hours.
He could hear himself chanting her name, feel the tightening in his balls as orgasm approached, but it was almost as if it was happening to someone else. He pumped his hips harder and faster. Taking her. Taking her. Harder and harder. Scooting her along the piano lid until the back of her head dropped off the far edge. She’d been making love to him, he’d felt her in every particle of his being, but he was f**king her and it was hardly as satisfying. He paused to catch his breath and find his bearings. He looked down to find her watching him. The single candle still burning made her eyes sparkle.
“Are you okay?” she asked, touching his cheek with one hand. “Why did you stop?”
He didn’t think he could speak, so he kissed her gently. Every nerve ending in his body seemed to be on edge. Still kissing her, he cradled the back of her head in one hand and by inching downward and drawing her down to meet him, eased her into a less perilous position on the piano. Once he’d regained a little sense, he said, “Sorry I lost control like that. I’ll take it slower.”
“I don’t mind it rough, if that’s what you like.”
But he didn’t like it fast and rough as much as he liked it slow and tender. He knew he hadn’t been f**king her as hard as possible because it felt good—he’d been hammering himself into Dawn because Sara never allowed him to f**k her hard like that and he was still struggling with the reality of what he was doing. Enjoying Dawn bothered him. Not enough to make him stop, but enough to get in the way of what he truly desired. He was finally making progress, but he was a long way from being free enough to give Dawn the care and affection she deserved. If she hadn’t been so understanding and patient, he’d have probably already left out of guilt.
“What do you like?” he asked.
“Both. But right now I’d like it slow. It gives me more time to think about how good it feels,” she said.
And that, he decided, was what he would concentrate on until he couldn’t hold back for another instant. Making her feel good. For as long as possible.
With a new purpose, and strict concentration, he began to move his hips again, watching her face for signs that he was getting it right. He found a slow, deep, grinding rhythm that made her writhe beneath him and moan in bliss. It took him a few minutes to realize he was making love to her to the rhythm of the ocean waves, the rhythm of her song, and apparently the rhythm of their bodies.
He believed in fate and destiny, knew in his heart that people were drawn to each other for a reason. From the moment he’d heard Dawn struggling to compose that song, he’d felt her pull on him. He was supposed to be with her. Maybe not making love to her on a piano during a power outage, but he knew that there was something cosmic about their joining. A reason they’d met. A reason she was so wonderful and accepting and downright irresistible.