"Dean—"
He slams his lips to mine, and it takes me half a second to catch up. God, Dean's kisses are designed to melt my brain into soup.
"We can't—" I start, trying to find some shred of logic in the chaos.
"Should I stop? Tell me you don't want this." His voice is gravelly with want.
The real answer is no, I don't want this to end. Not yet. My arm snakes along his chest and around the back of his neck, pulling him down so I can crush my lips to his, reveling in the way he sucks in a sharp breath.
Dean leads me to the other side until we spot the bathroom.
It's small, a single room with a sink and a mirror, and barely enough space to breathe. He locks it behind him, and the click echoes in the tiny space.
"Liz—"
I kiss him before he can finish, before he can talk me out of this, before common sense returns and reminds me this is my sister's wedding rehearsal, and anyone could knock on this door and discover us.
His hands are in my hair, tangling in the strands as he lifts me onto the narrow counter, my legs wrap around his waist. The marble is cold against my bare thighs, but nothing else matters except the heat radiating from his body pressed against mine.
Nothing except his mouth on mine and the way he crowds into the space between my legs, and how absolutely right this feels despite every reason it shouldn't.
Dean's hands slide under my dress—the black cocktail dress I wore to dinner, the one with the thigh-high slit that seemed modest until this moment, until his palms are skimming up my legs and pushing the fabric higher. We need to be quiet, but I'm already gasping when his fingers trace the edge of my underwear, when he dips a finger in my pussy, only to discover I'm already so wet for him.
"We have to be fast," he says against my mouth, voice rough and urgent, words barely audible over the sound of our ragged breathing.
"I know." My heart is hammering so hard I'm sure he can feel it through my dress.
"Someone could come looking?—"
"I know." I'm fumbling with his belt, fingers trembling with need and nerves and the desperate desire to have him inside me. "Dean, please?—"
"I've got you."
Dean hooks my panties to the side with one quick motion and presses his thick cock inside me, filling me slowly until he's buried to the hilt. Oh my God. The stretch is perfect, overwhelming, and I have to bite my lip hard to keep from crying out. He notices immediately, tugging my abused lip free with his thumb and kissing me hard instead.
Just like that, I forget about thin walls and wedding guests and everything except the way he fills me completely, stretches me in the most delicious way, makes me feel whole in ways I can't articulate even to myself.
"Quiet, Liz." His voice is strained, almost growling. "Gotta be quiet for me."
I nod against his shoulder, teeth sinking into my lip hard enough to taste copper, focusing on staying silent even as he starts to move.
"God, you feel so good." His breath comes in harsh pants against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "Always knew you would. Always so perfect."
The admission makes my chest tight with emotion I can't afford to examine right now. He moves faster, the rhythm becoming more urgent, more desperate. I try so hard to be quiet, but when he shifts his angle and hits that perfect spot inside me, I can't help the soft whimper that escapes, and my eyes roll to the back of my head.
He covers my mouth with his instantly, swallowing the sound completely. His other hand grips my hip, holding me steady as he moves deeper, harder, chasing something we both need.
The pressure keeps building inside me, winding tighter with every thrust, every brush of his thumb against my skin.
"Oh God, Dean?—"
The orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, waves of molten heat washing through my entire body and imprinting the feel of him so deep in my memory I'll never forget this moment. I shatter completely in Dean's arms, my body convulses around him in a torrent of sensation while his mouth captures every whimper and moan.
It doesn't take him long to follow me over the edge.
His body responds to my orgasm in thick, liquid pulses, his cock twitches inside me until I feel his hot come spurting out.
We both try to catch our breaths and wait for our heartbeats to slow, still connected.
