A Guy Walks Into My Bar - Lauren Blakely Page 0,37
we can’t think straight for days. Or I can get on my hands and knees for you, and you can fuck me to the edge of the bed. Or maybe, just maybe, you can throw me onto my back and drive into me till I beg for you to make me come.”
I swallow roughly, trying to process those images, the filthy film of taking Dean in all those ways flicking before my eyes.
But I can barely move. Barely speak.
I can’t breathe.
I don’t know how he does this. I think I’m in control, but that’s an illusion when he tops me with his words, his dirty mouth. He says the sexiest things in that English accent, and I can barely control myself. I can’t contain this desire. Nor do I ever want to.
I breathe out hard, wanting, needing, craving.
“I want it all,” I rasp.
“I know you do,” he says, rocking that beautiful body against me, showing me what he’ll do when he takes me all the way. Dean presses his chest against mine, and the contact, the exquisite contact, is some kind of erotic torture. So is choosing how to fuck him first. “But you better choose soon,” he whispers. “Or I’ll have to jack off in front of you, because I’m that aroused.”
A breath shudders from me, comprised of a million tons of lust. This man is killing me.
But I know what I want. I know how I want to have him. I need to see his gorgeous face as I bury my cock in his body.
In one swift move, I push up, grab his hips, and flip him to his back. I pin his wrists above his head, bringing my face to his neck. And then I whisper in his ear, “Need to see your face when I drive into you, when I make you come so fucking hard you see stars.”
Then I let go, grab the lube from the nightstand, and move between his legs after nudging them apart with my knees.
He parks his hands behind his head. I take a moment to drink in the sight of his long, lean body, toned arms, and flat stomach.
His perfect dick—long, thick, and goddamn delicious.
But that’s not all.
There’s so much to admire.
His legs. Strong and muscled. His thighs. I drizzle lube onto my fingers, slide them along the length of his shaft, and watch him shudder as I move lower, then press a finger against his ass.
The look on his face is nirvana. It’s blissful torture as I push inside, getting him ready—one finger. I pour on more lube then add two fingers, a third. My dick twitches, leaking at the tip.
Dean’s eyes are closed, and he lets one hand glide down his chest, the other drifting to his shaft.
“Uh-uh. Don’t touch. Can’t have you coming too soon. You want me to fuck you to the edge of pleasure, remember?”
His eyes snap open, and he pushes up on his elbow, his gaze full of fiery intent. “Then get inside me now. I really can’t wait any longer before I take matters into my own hands.” He grabs the condom from the nightstand, opens it, and thrusts it at me.
“Put it on me,” I tell him.
With a satisfied grin, my sexy Brit sits up, slides the protection on the head, then rolls it down my length. I groan from his touch, even like this, even in this necessary action.
When I’m covered, he lies back down. I set my hands on his thighs, spread him wider, then rub the head of my cock against him. He pushes his hips up, letting out the most carnal groan I’ve ever heard. From that. From that tease of a touch. Just the press of me against him.
My skin is tight. My chest is a furnace, and I’m so goddamn aroused as I push in farther, breaching him.
We both groan at the same moment. That electric moment when I move past that ring of muscles, when his ass grips me so nice and tight, and I never want to leave.
I’m braced on my palms, placed on either side of his chest. Like that, his hands travel up my pecs and spread over them. His eyes glimmer with desire. “Give it all to me,” Dean commands.
“With pleasure.” I shove inside, all the way, and we both sound like animals.
Groaning, grunting, growling.
“You feel so fucking good,” I say, my bones vibrating from the intensity.
“So do you,” he gasps, his hands wrapping around me, grabbing hard onto my ass,