He’s leaning on the headboard when I step back into the room and gently click the door closed behind me, still as naked as when I left him. I move quietly across the room and put my knees to the bed, but the moment I’m within arm’s reach, he snags the towel and loosens the knot, forcing it apart.
He throws it onto the floor and lets his eyes roll over me as if he didn’t get a good enough look before.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Sloane,” He drags his eyes back to my face in time to see the blush warm my cheeks, “And you blush so damn pretty.”
“Are you staying?” I ask quietly, allowing him to pull me in.
“With you?” His arm comes back around me, and he settles us under the sheets. “Always.”
Chapter Thirty-three
I’m not sure what I expected when I woke up. That maybe it was all a lust hazed dream, and it didn’t actually happen, or that Dean wouldn’t be here, that he’d snuck away to his own bed in the middle of the night. I certainly didn’t expect to have his head between my legs, his tongue working over me as his fingers pump into me. I thread my fingers through the hair at the back of his head while he holds my thighs apart, his tongue expertly working my clit.
I moan loudly, so fucking close, but he keeps me at the edge, prolonging the torture.
“Dean, please,” My voice is still raspy from sleep.
I feel him grin against me, “Don’t you beg so prettily, Butterfly.”
My fingers curl tighter, pulling at the hair, “Please.”
There is no shame.
He chuckles, and the vibration of it sends me into orbit. Good fucking god. He sucks my clit into his mouth as he curls his fingers inside me, stroking that soft, sensitive spot just inside, and it hits me like a freight train. There’s no stopping it, and my climax shatters through me so thoroughly, I’m left a mere puddle against the mattress.
Dean lifts himself from between my legs but makes no move to wipe away the mess I’ve left behind on his mouth, in fact, he lifts the fingers that were inside of me to his lips and then sucks them inside.
His heavy cock sits hard and leaking, the balls of his piercing glinting in the soft light of morning filtering through a break in the curtain.
“Delicious,” He mumbles, crawling over me to plant a claiming kiss against my mouth. I taste myself on his lips, and while I expected to hate it, I find I don’t at all.
I just want more. More time with him. More hours in this bed. More of his body and his words, and his kisses. Justmore.
But time has to resume, life has to continue, and it starts with the sound of Lily’s morning cry.
I jerk beneath him, coming back to reality.
“Sloane,” He scolds lightly, “Relax.”
“I’ve got to–”
“Youdon’t have to do anything.” He kisses me quickly and then climbs off the bed, finding his pajama pants on the floor and pulling them up his legs. “You’re not on the clock.”
“I live here,” I cock my head, watching as he walks to the door.
“The contract doesn’t change, Sloane.” He assures me before he dips out of the room and goes to tend to his daughter.
I stand for a few minutes, listening to his soft voice filter through the crack in the door as he gets Lily up and takes her downstairs for her morning feed.
Last night was… incredible. Freeing.
Terrifying.
He took care of me, understood what I needed without me ever saying a word. And the day I have to let it go makes the organ inside my chest hurt a little. With nothing else to do, I grab a quick shower. There’s an ache between my thighs, and red marks on my skin left behind by his mouth and his hands that water will never be able to remove. Not that I want it to. I like the evidence of him on my body, it makes it real.
Once I’m clean and feeling somewhat more human, I throw my hair up and then get dressed before I head down to find Dean setting up his station on the couch, ready to feed her, so I jump to help.
“When do you go in for your rehab?” I ask after a few minutes of watching.
