Page 57 of Parentmoon

“Oh my God,” I mutter, burrowing deeper into the chair until it starts to tip.

Dallas catches the back of it before I fall over. “You’re perfectly safe.”

“Some dragon-slayer you are. He’s so comfortable around you, he lives here.”

Dallas chuckles harder. “I just chased him off for you.”

I huff as Mr. Iguana has not gone very far. “That was hardly a chase. You stomped your foot.”

“Still effective.”

Disagreeing with him, I shake my head, while scanning the edge of the porch for further evidence of a foot long beast with scales and claws on his feet.

“Come here, darlin’.” Dallas calls to me with laughter still in his voice. He circles my wrist, covered by the bracelets he gave me.

“We should go inside.”

“Your dragon has moved on and I want to see you in the moonlight.” He pats his lap with his other hand, and I set my wineglass on the cement. Without allowing my feet to touch the concrete, I climb over Dallas’s thighs and straddle his lap. The angle of the chair causes me to fall forward, settling into the crook of his legs and nestle against a semi-hard wedge. With my feet on the wooden edge, I look like a giant frog in his lap. My dress bunches to my waist.

Dallas lifts my wrists with the bracelets, thumbing them at first and then raising my arm higher toward his mouth. He licks between a set, and then scrapes his teeth over the sensitive skin. He separates another strip of beads with his tongue, swiping over my pulse, before kissing the deep vein. Once more, his teeth drag over my inner wrist, and he hums against my flesh.

Lowering my arm, Dallas uses both his hands to brush back my hair, holding it on either side of my head while pulling me down for a kiss. Eventually, I lower my feet the few inches to the ground, helping me balance over Dallas. All thoughts of iguanas, lizards and dragons disappear. Quickly, the kiss heats and I rock over his full length, thick and solid against my center.

Dallas presses at my hips, pausing our kiss. “Stand up and take off your underwear. Then sit back down on me.”

“Dallas,” I groan.

“It’s dark and late. Take this adventure under the moon with me.”

Slowly, I unfold from his lap and reach under my dress, slipping down my underwear. Dallas reaches out and takes it from me, stuffing it in his pocket. He’s wearing his dark linen pants again with a heather gray T-shirt. His casual yet refined attire is a look all its own.

As I climb back over him, my wet center brushes against the crinkled material of his pants. The friction is just right against my clit, and I sigh as I shift, dancing subtly over Dallas’s lap.

“Beautiful,” he whispers as I lift my hair and roll my hips. My head tips back. He feels so good beneath me.

“I’m going to make a mess of your pants,” I warn, as dampness builds.

“Make a mess, darlin’,” he growls as he moves my hips again, forcing me to drag over his length and catch at the tip. He thrusts upward and my breath hitches.

“Dallas,” I whisper. Tingles build, the sensation drawing to my center.

“Come for me.”

It’s not an immediate command I can respond to, but I’m on my way. Gripping the back of the chair for support, I move faster, press harder, dig deeper at rubbing my clit against his covered length.

“That’s it, Jojo.”

I should dislike the nickname but said in his deep drawl, full of encouragement and awe, I lose myself in the moment. My breath catches. My head drops forward. I squeeze my thighs at the pleasurable rub of his pants against sensitive folds. Loving the sensation, a fierce orgasm rips through me.

“Yeah,” Dallas whispers, kissing my chin and my jaw, then pulling me down for another tongue twirling connection that tickles my insides. Aftershocks ripple through me and I squeeze at him again.

Dallas presses me upward and shoves down his pants enough to expose his heavy dick.

“Condom?” I whisper.

“Jo, I’d never do anything you don’t want to do. I wouldn’t put you at risk. But I’m clean. I had a physical a month ago. Go every year around my birthday. My dad died too young of a heart attack, so I don’t take health lightly.”

This conversation should be awkward, but it only makes me want to hold him tighter, draw him closer to me. Making a decision, I climb back over his lap, hissing as my wetness connects with the heated length of him. We still for a moment as I rub my thumb over the spot along his brow where he was caught by a hook from his dad. Leaning forward, I press a kiss there. Then I lay my palm over his heart, feeling it race beneath the soft cotton of his tee.