He groaned, and she felt it— felt it— all the way through her.
“This pussy’s perfect,” he growled, fingers stroking deep inside her now. “Tight, warm… fuck, I missed this. Missed you.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, everything too much. Too good. The heat. His mouth. The way his voice made her ache.
She didn’t know whether to cry or come.
Maybe both.
“Don’t hold back, Ali,” he whispered between licks. “Wanna hear you. Wanna taste you when you fall apart on my tongue.”
Gawd.
She couldn’t stop the moan that ripped from her throat, couldn’t stop her thighs from shaking as he sucked her clit into his mouth like he meant it.
She wasn’t thinking anymore. Just feeling.
“Dyl—” she gasped. “Oh gawd, I—”
“Come for me,” he groaned, voice wrecked. “Let me feel it.”
And she did.
She shattered— head thrown back, body arching, every inch of her unraveling under his mouth, his hands, his words. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, just held her right there while wave after wave rolled through her.
Ali didn’t feel shy. Or hidden. Or afraid of her body. She never felt that way with Dylan.
She felt wanted.
She felt worshipped
Then Dylan’s arms were around her— solid, sure, there. Lifting her off the bed.
“I got you,” he murmured, voice thick, one hand cradling her hip, the other sliding up her spine.
She leaned into him, still trembling, her breath catching against the crook of his neck. Her thighs were slick, her skin on fire, and her brain wasn’t entirely convinced that orgasm hadn’t split her into pieces.
“You good?” he asked, lips brushing her temple.
Ali nodded, too breathless to speak.
He turned her gently, guiding her to face the bed. She went with him, pliant, dazed. His hand stayed firm on the small of her back as he leaned her forward, until her hands met the edge of the mattress, and she folded over it— knees locked, back arched. He lifted each leg placing her knees on the bed. Had her kneeling on it, leaning in her forearms. Open and exposed for him.
The position should’ve made her self-conscious, but it didn’t.
Not with him behind her. Not with his body heat wrapped around her like armor. Not with the way he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, soft and reverent.
“You’re so fucking sexy like this,” he breathed against her skin, kissing lower, toward the curve of her spine. “Still shaking.”
She felt him step back just enough to push his shorts down, the sound of fabric hitting the floor making her toes curl. Then hisboxer briefs. She didn’t need to look— she felt him. The heat of him. The sheer want radiating off his skin.
And when he stepped forward again, bare now, hard as stone and throbbing behind her, she gasped.
“Feel that?” he asked, voice rough, his palm smoothing down her back. “That’s what you do to me, Ali.”
Her whole body ached for him— open, throbbing, ready.
He kissed her again, right between her shoulder blades, and then rested his hands on her hips.
