Joss
Every nerve in my body is alight with anticipation, with need. He’s only stroked the elastic of my panties and, already, I’m so wet for him.
A breath hitches in my throat when his fingers loop around my waistband and he tugs, dragging the dark fabric down my thighs to my knees, until it falls to my ankles. The action is triggering, reminding me of all the reasons I should stop this, all the reasons I should tell him that touching me is off limits.
Starting with him following Shawna into that hotel.
I try to hold onto that thought, try using it to slow this down, but nothing works. I want him too badly, regardless of the pile of broken rules mounting between us.
He gestures for me to remove my t-shirt and I do so without question. The subtle roughness of his palms pushes up the backs of both thighs and I can’t breathe. He has this way of stealing all the air from the room, leaving me to pant and writhe for him.
“Do you trust me?” he rasps, peering up.
The question makes my brow gather.
“Of course,” I answer, but secretly wonder what he has in mind that warrants that he even needs to ask.
Slowly, he pulls me closer as he lays back again. But my heart races when I realize what he wants. It isn’t until he takes me by my hips and guides me down onto him, positioning my thighs at either side of his face, that I fully grasp it. A hint of stubble brushes against my skin and the sensation arouses me even more. Then, the next second, he brings me down lower, until my pussy covers his mouth.
There’s no time to breathe, no time to ask him to go slow, because his tongue’s already inside me.
Deep inside me.
“…Dane.”
His name leaves me with a whisper and the room fills with the echo of my heavy panting, laid over the soundtrack of rain cascading down the window. Weakening me, he draws my clit between his lips, sucking while I whimper and grind into him. It dawns on me that I didn’t know pleasure before this, before him.
Touching myself, using my vibrator… neither compares.
The sudden movement of his shoulder beneath me has my attention divided, luring my gaze behind me, down his long, muscular body. Gray boxer-briefs cling to his thighs in the most delicious way, emphasizing the bulge that swells in front. I fixate there, on his hand when it slips inside the fabric to free his heavy cock. It springs toward the ceiling and I swear I salivate, seeing his tight grip encircle it. When his fist begins moving up and down his impressive length, my breaths become erratic to the point of feeling lightheaded.
I’m torn between focusing solely on how he’s completely devouring me, and watching how he pleasures himself. The visual of it—his hand wrapped around his thick shaft, the large crown I fantasize pushing its way inside me—has me on the verge of coming. His thighs tense. He’s close, too. I feel it even more when he squeezes my ass with the hand not stroking his dick. His hips writhe and he pumps his fist faster, just as a fluttering deep within me rises and euphoria floods my senses. I can’t take anymore.
A cry leaves my mouth when I come to the deep vibration of him moaning into my pussy. I fight the urge to close my eyes, as wave after wave of pleasure slam into me, but I’m determined to keep my eyes trained on him. A struggle that pays off when a deep groan leaves him, and I get to witness his sudden release. A torrent of wet heat reaches my lower back when he erupts. My teeth sink into my lip, savoring the visual of him that will forever live inside my head.
Sated, his dick relaxes, and I turn to stare down my body at him, feeling heat from his breath against my inner thigh before he places a kiss there. I can’t help but to wonder how he turned me into this person. This girl who craves something so badly that she’s never even had. He’s gifted in ways I never dreamed, with every part of his body I’ve experienced so far.
I can only imagine what he can do with the rest.
Slowly, and weak in the knees, I stand to my feet, eying his perfection sprawled out on the couch. His gaze is locked on mine and he doesn’t bother to cover himself, not an ounce of discretion or self-consciousness in his body. He knows he’s a fucking fantasy in the flesh.
My fantasy.
He stands and lowers his boxers, kicking them off, but he grabs his t-shirt from the floor before straightening. Using the soft fabric, he wipes my back clean as he towers over me. I will myself not to glance down at the girth hanging between his legs, but I swear he feels the struggle. Hence the reason those green eyes never leave me when he speaks.
“I’ll get the shower going so you can clean up,” he rasps, lust still heavy in his eyes.
He doesn’t wait for a response, just drags his palm across my stomach as he passes. My eyes chase after him, gawking at the thick muscles in his back and that perfect ass when he walks away.
Even when he’s gone, I stare in the direction of where he’s just disappeared, completely aware of how each encounter draws us in deeper, bonds us more than we already were. And while I also know leaning into what I’m feeling crosses our boundaries… I’m not sure I can stop this.
Not sure I can stop myself from falling deeper, from wanting to be with him.
This girl who was once drowning in rules might finally be learning what it means to live.
And it only took Dane showing me how.
