fervor while wrapping my legs around his waist and sliding them along his hips. The skin-on-skin sensation feels so incredibly good. I’ve missed how a man’s body molds against mine. I’ve missed being desired and turned on.
Desperation courses through me, and I thrust my damp sex against him as his erection squeezes between our two flush bodies. He breaks our kiss, his breath stuttered as he says, “I’m going to orgasm in less than a minute too if we don’t do this.”
I nod, my eyes wide as I glance down and watch him center his tip between my folds. He watches me for a moment before slowly pushing himself inside me.
It’s tight. Way too tight. A year’s worth of stress causing extra tightness. But thankfully, my slick, wet heat makes his entry possible, and when he’s buried as deep as I can take him, my fingers dig into his biceps as I groan out a long, “Ohhh my Godddd.”
“Fuck,” he growls as his head drops onto my shoulder while our bodies adjust to the sensation overload. He pulls back and gasps for breath, his lips parted as he adds, “Fuck, you feel incredible.”
“You too,” I croak, grinding upward and silently begging him to move so I find some relief.
He takes the hint and pulls back, propping himself up on his hands before slowly thrusting inside me. My head flattens to the pillow, and I hear myself whimpering with breathless excitement. Everything right now is sensation overload. My hormones have completely taken over my body, and at any second, I’m going to start making animal noises.
“That’s it, sugar…just let go.” Dean’s voice is raw and full of need as he begins moving at a quicker pace, his eyes blazing down on me the entire time. “You’re so beautiful when you let go. It’s impossible to look away.”
I blink up at him; the intensity in his voice isn’t something I’m used to hearing. Dean’s usually playful or sexual, or purposely over the top. He lives his life teasing others. But the sincerity he’s displaying right now is a new look for him, and it intensifies my arousal. Our eyes lock for a brief second, and something deeper than the sexual nature of what we’re doing ignites. Almost like Dean sees me more than anyone has ever seen me before. It’s unnerving.
But I’m quickly distracted when Dean hoists my leg onto his shoulder and thrusts deeper than before, stroking a spot I don’t think has ever been stroked before.
“Oh my God,” I cry, feeling every thrust, every noise, every growl of pleasure in the room as a pressure builds deep inside me. It’s intense and overpowering, like a roller coaster descending at a hundred miles an hour that I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.
“Let go for me, Norah,” Dean hisses, his jaw taut as he fights against losing his own control. “I need to watch you come.”
That’s apparently all it takes because the next thing I know, I’m screaming his name and shattering violently as he continues moving inside, not missing a beat as my inner muscles clamp down around him, making it tighter between us than it was before.
“Fuuuck,” Dean groans as he shakily struggles to continue thrusting.
Suddenly, he stills on top of me, and his eyes slam shut. He expels several stuttered breaths as if he’s trying to get control of himself. But clearly, he fails because the next thing I know, he’s undulating between my legs, and I can’t help but watch him with great fascination. Dean’s normally so composed and at ease in his own skin. The image of him losing himself and climaxing is something I’d like to see again and again.
Seconds later, he collapses on me and buries his head into my neck, his breath hot on my collarbone as his muscular body trembles over me. I lift my hands to stroke the back of his head and neck soothingly as I watch his back rise and fall in rapid succession.
I can’t help but smile.
That was literally the best sex I’ve ever had.
Granted, I haven’t had a lot of sex. And the memories of the sexual encounters I have had are fuzzy at best. But surely that had to be good for him too, right? I mean, I know he’s had a lot more partners than I have. But coming that quickly and that powerfully and being this spent afterward is a good sign, right?
Dean’s weight becomes heavy on top of me, and paranoia starts