THIRTY-FIVE
IZZY
Dylan’s hands are everywhere. His mouth too. On my neck, my collarbone, trailing down to the swell of my breast. He slides two fingers inside me, his thumb circling my clit, making my knees buckle. I’m breathless, chest heaving, desperate and so close already. The air around us is heavy with steam, the water warm as it slides over us. My hands rake over his muscular back as my hips move on their own, grinding against his hand, chasing the pleasure he’s teasing me with.
His mouth moves over one nipple, sucking and nipping until I’m gasping.
“Dylan,” I breathe, my voice trembling. “I need more.”
His laugh is a low rumble I feel all through my body. He moves his mouth slowly back to mine, kissing me deeply before drawing back. I whimper at the loss of touch as he slides his hands away from me, before taking my wrists and pinning them to the tiles either side of my head. I move my hips toward him, desperate to feel his body against mine.
“You ready for me to take care of you now, Izzy?” His eyes are dark with desire and focused entirely on me.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Say it,” he commands.
I lift my chin and pull back my shoulders a fraction. “I want you to take care of me.”
He smirks—that infuriating, cocky smirk that drives me crazy in the best way. “Good.”
Then he moves. He drops my arms, moving his hands to grip my hips, firm and possessive as he lifts me effortlessly against the cold tile wall. I wrap my arms around his neck, my legs gripping his waist. I feel every hard inch of him pressing against me. His beard brushes against my neck, and I tilt my head back, a gasp escaping my lips as he nips at the sensitive skin.
“Dylan,” I breathe again, but it’s barely more than a whisper. My heart races as the tip of him presses against my opening. With a low growl that sends shivers down my spine, he thrusts into me in one smooth, long motion. I cry out as he fills me completely, stretching me in a way that makes my body tremble with pleasure as his heat sears through every nerve ending.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice raw like it’s taking everything in him not to lose control right then and there. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”
He supports my weight easily, driving deeper into me with each thrust. My breath is ragged. My nails dig into the hard planes of his muscles as he moves, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through me. The water from the shower streams down on us, slicking our skin, making every touch, every slide of his body against mine, feel electric. I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel him—every inch of him—as he takes me to the edge and holds me there.
“I want you so much,” he rasps, throwing a hand out to kill the water and carrying me effortlessly out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. He spins us around so I’m on top as he eases back onto the covers. Then I’m pushing down, taking every delicious inch of him until he’s groaning my name. “I’m going to take such good care of you, you’ll never want to leave my bed.”
Then he’s taking control again, guiding me deeper. My head spins with the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter. Dylan’s eyes lock onto mine, like he’s seeing straight into me. “Come for me, Izzy. Come all over my dick.” His voice is rough with need. His thumb brushes against my clit again, causing a gasp to tear from my throat. “That’s it,” he growls. “Let go for me.”
The pleasure notches higher until I feel like I’m losing my mind. My thighs tremble and I lean back, riding him hard, feeling the pressure build. Every thought empties from my head. All I can feel is this need. All I want is this moment. “Don’t stop,” I cry out.
“Never,” he rasps. “Fuck, Izzy. You feel so fucking good.”
“I’m going to come.” I heave a breath as the pulse of the orgasm starts to spread through my body.
He grabs my ass, pulling me down on him over and over as he works my center. “Who do you belong to?” he asks.
“You.” The word gasps out as I come undone, falling over the edge, the pleasure white-hot and all-consuming. My muscles clench around Dylan’s length as I shudder with release. Dylan works me through it, softening his strokes, murmuring sweet words, slowing down our rhythm until I collapse against him.
Then gently, he flips me over, brushing my hair out of my face, catching my lips in a deep kiss as he begins to move again, thrusting into me hard and fast, and fuck if my head isn’t spinning from it. The angle is deeper now and I swear I can feel him in places I didn’t know existed. His pace quickens as he draws all the way out then back into me. He buries his face in my neck.
“Izzy.” He groans. “Fuck, Izzy.” His voice cracks, and then he’s coming undone too, pulsing deep inside me with a groan that sounds almost primal.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks. The only sounds in the room are our breathing and the faint rustle of the covers asDylan shifts to one side, tucking me close against him. I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the warmth of him, into this moment that feels too big for words.
Dylan props himself onto one elbow, looking at me in the dim light. His expression is open—like he’s willing me to see the steadiness of him. The trust he’s offering me.
A trust I’m terrified to accept. Because trusting anyone but myself means giving them the power to hurt me. Falling for someone means laying myself bare. And yet, this doesn’t feel like falling. It feels like being caught. Like maybe I don’t have to do this alone anymore.
I exhale, pressing my palm against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. Then I voice the question I’m terrified to ask, but I have to know. “Can I trust you?”
He’s quiet for a moment as the back of his hand strokes my cheek. “I can’t promise we won’t argue, Iz. I can’t promise I won’t mess up sometimes, but I can promise that I’m here right now. And I’ll do my best for you and for Mad.”
His arms tighten around me, and when he kisses me, slow and deep, like he’s sealing his promise between us, I believe him.
