Dean. Ever.”
“You should.” He touches my cheek, my hair. “You should do this all the time. You’re really good at it.”
And then we’re falling back onto the bed—a tumble of laughing limbs and moans. We roll around, mangling the sheets. Dean’s body is a wonderland, and I explore every bit of it. And he plays me like an instrument. He teases and tortures me, strums his slick fingers between my legs, rubbing and petting, while his lips wrap around my nipple, sucking in long, slow drags.
Dean’s a multitasker—and it’s glorious.
Then he’s climbing over me, kneeling between my spread thighs. I watch as he brings a condom wrapper to his mouth and tears it with his teeth.
“That’s so hot.” I moan, reaching for him.
It’s like a whole new porn fetish category—I could watch this man rip open condom wrappers all night long.
He takes himself in his hand, his movements sure and confident, and rolls the latex down his length, pinching the condom at the tip. And he’s so hard when he presses against my opening—so big when he pushes inside. We moan, long and low, as our bodies rock together.
All my senses are focused right there—where we’re connected—on the surging feel of him filling me where I’m tight and wet around him.
Dean’s head rolls back on his shoulders. “Your pussy is heaven.” He holds my hip for leverage, thrusting. “Literal heaven.”
And I love it. The sound of his voice, the color of his eyes, the taut contraction of his muscles, the relentless breach of his cock, the feel of his solid hips between my thighs. I love how his big hands hold my waist, lifting me, angling me to take all of him. I love how his spine curves and chin dips low, and how he watches himself disappear inside me.
I love it when he rolls us over, so he’s flat on his back and I’m straddling him.
“Ride me.” His voice is jagged and raw. “Ride me, Lainey.”
And I love that too.
I straighten my back, arching, my hair falling long all around. And I swivel my hips and squeeze my muscles hard around him—he’s so deep this way, and I want to feel every inch.
Dean grips my ass in his large hands, sliding me back and forth. And I love the way he looks up at me—the heavy-lidded heat in his eyes and the harsh rise and fall of his chest—that makes me feel every bit as beautiful as he said I was.
I love all of it. Every moment. This wild rollercoaster of perfect, aching, pleasure.
Dean lifts up, licking my breast, kissing my neck. Then he cradles the back of my head as he shifts again, taking us down, so he’s on top. And he glides back and forth into me—riding me in smooth, steady strokes.
“Christ, you feel—”
He presses me into the bed, going deeper, fucking me faster—pushing the breath from my lungs with every thrust.
“I’m gonna come.” His voice is a mirror of mine—urgent and clinging. “I’m gonna come so hard.”
It’s his words that get me there—those words.
A keening sound comes from the hollow of my throat, and I clasp at his back, wrapping my legs around his waist. It feels like a whirlwind is building inside me, swirling and stretching. So close, so close…
And he feels it too—I know it in the way his thrusts go wild, in how he rocks forward and forward, pushing like he can’t get close enough, pressing in so deep I feel the liquid heat of him in my womb.
Golden stars burst behind my eyelids as perfect white-hot pleasure tears through my body and pulses in my veins. Dean drives into me one last time, groaning my name into my hair.
I come back to languid awareness with the feel of him nibbling on my lips. A minute later, I open my eyes to see that sexy, dirty-boy smile aimed down at me.
“I’ll be right back.” He pecks my nose. “Don’t fall asleep.”
I wiggle a little underneath him.
“After that, I think we’ve earned it.”
“No.” He braces up on his elbows, looking down at where we’re still connected.
His hips slide forward in a shallow jab of a thrust.
And he gets hard.
Again.
Inside me.
“We’ll sleep when we can’t move. Right now, we’re just getting started.”
And it’s official—in a past life, I must’ve been a very, very good girl.
~ ~ ~
My eyes creak open the next morning, only about a half hour after Dean let me close them. And I want the sleep—I need the sleep—I’ve earned all the