I moaned, drawing my hand down to touch us, and then gasped when it all felt too tight. There was a subtle sting and Dean withdrew slowly, bringing his lips to mine before sliding back in halfway. He repeated those same slow, half-thrusts several times, holding my gaze as he did.
When he moved in just a little further than before, that pressure returned but this time without pain. He nodded in approval.
“That’s it," he said breathlessly.
I stroked his bottom lip with my thumb. He planted a kiss on it, then on my palm, and then on my lips again. Kissing away the pain. I rolled my hips, matching his steady rhythm, and quickly got lost in the pleasure and heat that was spreading from my core as I took him in, inch by pleasurable inch.
It wasn’t until his hips bumped against the underside of my thighs that I realized he was flush against me. Slowing his strokes to allow me to adjust to the feeling of being so full, he brought his lips just below my ear as he hummed, “Good girl.”
“Nnnh.” I arched into him, pressing my chest against his, begging him to start moving again.
He chuckled darkly against my skin and dragged his hips back. I throbbed against the emptiness, had almost whimpered because of it until he buried himself into me again with a gentle thrust.
My breath hitched in my throat when he did it again, but just a little faster.
I tangled my fingers into his hair when my body began trembling with every thrust. This wasn’t just sex. Everything about it felt like more. Evident in every touch, kiss, and gentle bite, as he took his time getting me there again.
He groaned, rolling his head back, and I lifted myself to my elbows to bring a soft kiss to his throat; tasted him with the tip of my tongue, passing it over the tattoo on his skin. Then lowered myself back to the bed, trailing my arms down his sides as he began to pick up the pace. Seated deep within me but grinding harder and harder, driving me into oblivion.
“Dean,” I whimpered, curling my fingers into his back as I wrapped my legs up around his waist. I could feel it, clawing to be let loose as other emotions suddenly overcame my thoughts. A tear ran down my cheek as I held onto him, but I had never felt happier.
My breath shortened until I held it, biting my lip. He braced his hands on the bed. His biceps flexed as he gripped the sheets; as he held control just a little longer, releasing softer, breathier grunts. Until he too whimpered.
I caught his face in my hands, wanting to see the moment in his eyes as I tightened around him. For a second, between the heavy breathing, he looked as if he might’ve said something. A similar look to the one he had in the gallery crossed his features briefly before his lips parted.
He thrust deep, throbbing inside me right as I bore down, quaking uncontrollably while his hips bucked against the underside of my thighs.
He shuddered and I melted around him.
Dean’s movements were less controlled as they slowed. Gently riding us through the end, he wrapped his arms beneath me to hold me closer.
I pulled my arms around him, stroking his broad back before he left soft kisses on my lips, smiling slightly as he did.
I asked quietly, “Why are you smiling?”
I brushed aside the strands of hair hanging over his forehead.
He studied my face for a second, his expression glazed with complete bliss as he said, “You’re perfect.”
Chapter 57
Dean
It was early.
I hadn’t checked the time yet — hadn’t moved yet after waking up with her beside me. Sleeping soundly on her chest with her arms tucked under the pillow, the sheet sat just below her naked shoulders, and there was a faint smile on her soft pink lips.
She was dreaming and I wanted so badly to see it. To get a glimpse of the way her beautiful mind worked; to figure out why she still chose me after everything I told her.
None of the sexual experiences from my past were like what we shared last night, as cliche as that sounded. I had never connected with someone like that. Or let my guard down for someone to see all the raw and ugly parts of me. But I did for her, and she pulled me into her arms and kissed it all better.
She couldn’t fix me, but she made life bearable.
She had my heart.
I rolled onto my shoulder, tucking my bicep up under my head as I watched her. Memorized every part of her. From the faint dusting of freckles on her nose and shoulders to the curve of her mouth and the dip of her cupid's bow. I pictured the curve of her waist and the softness of her skin, now hidden beneath the sheets.
She tasted so sweet as she trembled beneath my tongue last night. I liked that I was the first to see her this way; to feel her. And the first to kiss the small birthmark in the crease of her left thigh.
