Chapter Twenty-Eight #3
The doors flew open, and the SWAT team stepped in. Bullet proof vests, ARs, helmets…the whole nine yards.
We immediately stepped back. Ian put up a fight, but his mother and brother went calmly.
Haley drifted over to James while he talked with his team, Sullie and Dom having a quiet conversation behind the bar and Gwen was staring at Kevin’s back as they escorted him out the door.
Like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to her, my feet moving until I was standing beside her.
Her fruity scent hit me like a fourth inning swing.
“You alright?” I murmured, looking down at her face.
She was chewing on her bottom lip, her arms folding over her chest. She was closing in on herself, letting her thoughts take over. My lips found her ear.
“Come with me,” I whispered, unwrapping her arms, taking her hand, and leading her out the back door and up the stairs.
I took her back to the place we found each other. The loft.
As soon as the door closed, her back was to it, and my lips consumed her, my hands on either side of her head. She whimpered in surprise, her body tensing up. She pushed my shoulders back gently, and I complied. Worry painted her beautiful features. “What is it, Gwen?”
She looked up at me, inhaling an unsteady breath. “You ever get that feeling that something bad is about to happen?”
Yes.
My stomach was in fucking knots from Ian’s words.
“Let me get you out of your head, baby girl,” I whispered. And mine. We both needed the fucking distraction before we went crazy.
“Dean, half of the FBI is below us,” she argued as I pulled her bun apart, her curls falling around her, framing her round face, her ocean eyes dilated with lust. She wanted this; we both knew that. We hadn’t been together since before Boston. My head dipped, and my lips found her neck.
“You let me fuck you on a table in the middle of the mafia’s bar,” I reminded her as I kissed her soft skin up and down her neck. Her hands fisted my T-shirt at my sides, pulling me closer.
“A moment of weakness,” she rasped.
My hands snapped to her ass, gripping her hard and pulling her flush against my erection.
“So. Fucking. Difficult,” I growled before I kissed her again.
Her lips molded with mine for a few moments, and then my tongue demanded access.
She opened for me, my tongue clashed with hers as her arms wrapped around my neck, her hands going into my hair.
“This is going to be quick, Gwen,” I warned against her lips. “How do you want my cock?”
“Bend me over,” she breathed, her hands dropping to my jeans, cupping me. Fuck yes. I pulled her away from the door, leading us both to the kitchen island. Five years ago, I had her here, reminding her who she belonged to. I gave her a harsh kiss just before I spun her around.
“Palms on the counter and stick that ass out to me,” I ordered as I unbuttoned her jeans from behind.
She did as she was told and looked back at me, shaking her ass a bit.
I yanked the fabric down to her knees. She was wearing a black thong that had my cock begging for fucking mercy. “Damn you, woman.”
Gwen wiggled her ass again, teasing me. My palm landed against her right cheek, and she cried out. “You know better than to tease a starved man,” I growled as I dropped to my knees behind her.
“Dean?”
“Hush. I’m hungry.” My fingers trailed the seam of the black lace thong, down to her damp core.
“Dean,” she whined as my finger rubbed up and down over her covered clit.
“You want my mouth?”
She tried to move closer to me, but that only got her another spanking. Grabbing the back of her thighs, I shoved her against the island. “Words, Gwen.”
“Yes. Please. Please, baby,” she groaned, pressing her forehead against the surface.
“You are so fucking pretty when you beg for me.” I shredded the fabric from her skin and tossed it aside.
She said something about me buying her new underwear as I dove into my meal, shoving all other thoughts to the back of my mind.
As soon as my tongue touched her clit, she cried out.
My arm snaked around her hips, holding her in place as my free hand inched up her thighs.
She tasted so fucking good.
Sweetest fucking pussy I'd ever had, and it was all mine.
“Such a pretty pussy,” I murmured against her, and she writhed for me.
I sunk a finger into her tight, wet heat as my cock wept inside my jeans.
I latched onto her clit again, sucking and licking like a man starved.
She was grinding back against me, seeking her pleasure.
Chuckling, I shoved another digit in, stretching her and prepping her for me. She was so fucking tight.
She moaned, begging for mercy, and I only fucked her harder.
“Give it to me, baby girl. I’m fucking starving,” I ordered as I removed my fingers and shoved my tongue inside.
Her pussy quivered around me, her release coating my tongue and beard. I lapped up every single drop, humming in approval as her legs shook. She was sated, her cheek resting against the surface of the countertop as I stood, undoing my jeans.
“Been missing this little pussy,” I rumbled as I freed my aching cock. “You miss my cock, Gwen?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering open as I lined myself up.
“Who is about to fuck you until you can’t walk?”
She sat up, bracing herself on the island, palms down. “You are.”
I slammed inside her, not stopping until my balls were against her ass. Her pussy quivered around my cock as she tried to accommodate me.
“Dean,” she moaned, arching her back.
Grabbing a fistful of her curls, I began to fuck her, snapping my hips in harsh thrusts. “You remember the last time I fucked you here?”
“Yes,” she rasped.
“Who is fucking you?”
“Dean is.”
“Who is the only man allowed to fuck you?”
“You are.”
I pulled all the way out and leaned over her to find her ear. “Who is my beautiful woman? My most precious possession?”
She whimpered. “I am.”
I sunk my cock inside her again, covering her mouth.
“You.”
Thrust.
“Are.”
Thrust.
“All.”
Thrust.
“Mine.”
She climaxed around me, her body shaking, but I didn’t let up. I slammed into her over and over, taking out my frustrations on her curvy, delicious body. “I love you. You know that?” I hissed.
She nodded.
“Give me one more, baby girl,” I ordered before I twisted her head until her mouth was on mine. She gave me one more, and I gave it right back to her, filling her with all of me trying to ignore the thoughts in my head. Screaming at me.
My dream was never really my dream.
Baseball was never really baseball.
It was a ticket to the underworld.