She tore her mouth from his. “I want to be on top.”
Without a word, Clay rolled over onto his back. Dylan reached into the nightstand and grabbed a condom out of the drawer.
He ran a hand down her thigh as she knelt next to him and ripped open the package.
When he reached for the condom, she held it away. “I want to do it.”
Clay shrugged and folded his hands behind his head, letting her do what she wanted.
Her fingers were gentle as she rolled the condom over his dick. Once it was in place, she threw her leg over his body and trapped his cock between them. Clay moved his hands from behind his head to grasp her hips, squeezing gently as she undulated against him.
“Help me,” she said, lifting her body to reach between them.
He lined his cock up as she sank down on him, groaning deep in his throat as she engulfed him in one slow stroke.
Dylan leaned forward, bracing her hands on his chest as she rocked. Her movements were slow and languorous, and her gaze was locked on his.
Clay stroked his hands up her sides to her breasts. She arched her back as he ran his thumbs over her nipples. Her hips rocked faster as he lowered one hand to the juncture of her thighs. His thumb pressed against her clit, drawing firm circles over her flesh. Dylan’s breath caught and her body quivered as her muscles coiled.
“Clay,” she whispered.
“I got you.”
Her motions slowed, drawing out the pleasure until his body was taut and damp with sweat. Clay rolled his thumb faster and increased the pressure.
Dylan moaned and her body shuddered as she came. Her muscles clamped down on his cock and his eyes nearly rolled back in his skull. She collapsed against him. Clay rolled them so she was beneath him and drove into her, deep and hard. Her hands clutched his shoulders and her lips sought his.
He groaned low in his throat and thrust into her a final time before he came hard.
He rested his weight on his elbows and tried to catch his breath. Dylan pressed a kiss to his throat, nuzzling him with her nose.
“You okay?” he asked. “Can you breathe?”
She chuckled against his skin. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
When his breathing settled, he slowly levered away from her, holding the condom around the base of his dick.
“Be right back,” he said before he headed into the bathroom.
After he dealt with the condom, Clay came back to the bedroom and climbed in next to Dylan, pulling her close.
“I love you,” he murmured against her hair. He cuddled her closer.
She looked over her shoulder at him. “I love you, too.”
He read her expression accurately as confusion.
“You need to get used to hearing it,” he said. “Because in my family we say it all the time. When we see each other, at the end of phone calls, sometimes even in the middle of a heated argument.”
“Yeah, I’ve experienced that one,” she said, her tone dry.
Clay chuckled and kissed her again, this time on her nose. “We’re not much for holding back how we feel in the Dugan clan. If we’re happy, we smile, laugh, and get loud. If we’re angry, we argue, yell, and get loud. If we’re sad, we cry and—”
“Get loud,” she said. “I’m sensing that’s a theme for y’all.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, it is. Think you can handle it?”
“Maybe,” she answered. “I’m not a big yeller and an only child. My parents weren’t the type to yell either when they were alive. I’m not used to that kind of stuff.”
