“You feel so fucking good, Sloane,” Dean praises, “You feel that?”
“Mm,” I agree, moving a little faster, chasing the pleasure.
“Ride me, baby,” He groans, “Take everything. Take it all.”
His words spur me on to go harder and faster, lifting myself off him only to slam myself back down harder. He moans, and I swear the sound is almost enough to get me to that finish line alone. His pleasure is so fucking sexy, an aphrodisiac that makes me wetter. My thighs shake and my heart races, and the way I’m grinding means I’m getting the friction against my clit I need.
“Dean,” I cry, “I’m going to come.”
“It’s mine,” His voice shakes.
“Yes,” I whimper, “Yes, fuck.”
The orgasm crashes through me, turning my hip movements jerky, my pussy squeezing around his cock. I feel his dick jerk inside me, his eyes on me, watching as I fall off the peak, and only when I stop shaking does he lift my hips a little and then thrust. He fucks me from below, hard and fast, holding me still as he uses me to chase his own release. I take it all, the sensation like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
His piercing adds a new level, the tiny metal balls stroking my inner walls, and before I know it, I’m cresting again. I’m so sensitive, so wet, and desperate.
“Dean, I can’t,” My eyes feel hot, my throat raw.
“You can and you will,” He rasps, “You’ll give it all to me. All of it, you hear me, Sloane?”
“Yes,” My voice trembles, and I lower my chest to his, burying my face into his neck. His arms come around me, not tight or restrictive, more like a comfort as his hips slow to match mine.
“I’ve got you,” He whispers.
“Dean,” I lift so I can look down into his face before I press my mouth to his. I keep moving, his cock thrusting in and out of me.
“Don’t stop, Sloane.” He pleads.
It only makes me want it more. I chase his pleasure, wanting to see the moment he falls apart, and when he does…
His hands squeeze as his cock jerks inside me. “If you don’t want me to come inside you, I need you to get off now.”
“Give it to me,” I repeat his earlier statement.
His teeth snap together, and the muscles in his neck go tight, and then he spills into me, filling me up with a long, deep moan on his lips.
Sated and spent, I roll off him, but I don’t get too far, as his arm pulls me back in, and I rest against the side of him, his fingers brushing soft circles on my hip, just above the scars.
“You say this’ll end,” He speaks toward the ceiling, “But I’m not sure how I’m meant to let you go when you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
Tears spring to my eyes, “Dean.”
“Shh,” He soothes, “I know.”
I tuck into him and lay there for a few minutes, but I can feel him leaking out of me and need to go to the bathroom. I move to get off him, but his arm tightens, holding me in place.
“Where are you going?” He frowns.
“I’ve just got to go to the bathroom,” I explain, “I’ll be right back.”
He hesitates to let me go.
“I promise,” I kiss his shoulder.
His eyes search mine, but he releases me a second later, and I slide off the bed, wincing when I get to my feet and feel him slip out of me.
When I get to the bathroom, the insides of my thighs are covered with him, leaving me sticky, so I quickly wash up and use the toilet, grabbing a towel to tuck around myself to return to the bedroom.
