“Such a pretty sound. Do you moan like that for anyone else?”
“No.”
He drives his hips forward again, his fingers digging into my ass. “You sure about that?”
“Only you, Dean. It’s only ever been you.” I probably shouldn’t admit that.
It’s too vulnerable. And being here has reminded me how dangerous that is around a man like Dean Graham. But I’m rocking against him, and I can’t lie. I can’t look into his eyes without admitting the truth.
“I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be us.”
He leans in, nipping my earlobe and dragging his tongue up as he thrusts against me.
We’re still wearing too many clothes.
There’s too much friction and no release.
But god, it feels so fucking good.
He wraps one hand around my throat, while the other cradles me against him. My legs and arms are wrapped tight as he pins me to the pole and looks me in the eyes.
Slowly, he starts to rock us. A steady pace.
His thick length grinds between my legs, and my body ignites.
“You fucked up, princess. You made me wait twelve years to taste your pretty cunt. To hear your lovely moans. And now, I’ve had a long time to be curious.”
“About what?”
“Everything.” He drags his tongue over my lower lip but doesn’t kiss me. “I’ve had twelve years to wonder what you taste like when you come. What you’ll look like on your hands and knees, crawling for me, begging for me. What you’ll feel like with your sassy lips wrapped around my cock, tears streaming from your eyes. Twelve years to wonder how it’d feel if you were mine.”
He continues to grind me against him. His words and the friction are a match to kindling. I’m on the verge of combusting. His fingers tighten on my neck, making my head light, allowing me just enough breath to stay lucid. But in every other way, I’m floating.
“You’re so fucking pretty when you’re being bad for me.” He rocks me over him, and his whole body tenses.
“I like beingbad for you.”
“Oh yeah?” He leans in, grazing his lips at my ear. “Then be a bad girl and make yourself come on my cock. Show me which brother your pussy belongs to now.”
Dean doesn’t let me go, but he stops guiding me. So I hold on, rocking to the rhythm he set. His mouth hovering over mine as I rub against him. I need more. I need everything. But he needs control, so I give him that. I do what he says. Until I’m shaking, and his hands are tightening around me.
Until pleasure peaks, and I do just as he asked. I come for him, soaking through the lace and making a mess of his jeans.
“Fuck, Willa. Fuck. Fuck.” His shoulders flex, and his teeth grit, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me as he comes as well. He thrusts his hard cock against me, and I wish I could feel it without clothes. But this is the line he’s drawn.
Dean shakes, curling against me, until we’re both panting as we try to catch our breath. My back aches from the pole digging into my spine, but I can’t find it in me to care right now.
After a long moment, he releases my throat. He cups the side of my face, but he’s looking anywhere but in my eyes. Distance creeps between us in every way. Physical and not.
Realization sinks in.
Reality settles.
“Dean—”
He shakes his head, cutting me off. “Twelve years we could have had this, Willa. Twelve fucking years. It’s your turn to wait a minute.”
At that, he sets me down and walks away.
