Chapter 5
SACHI
Dean seals our deal with a kiss so passionate that his demanding need obliterates my remaining fears. I’m swept away by a wave of consuming hunger. I want to cry out with relief when his hands ease down the zipper on my dress because, as much as I love the gown, I’m desperate to get it off.
Desperate for his clothes to be off.
For the feel of our bodies pressed together with nothing between us.
I fumble with the buttons on his dress shirt, our tongues still dueling in a battle of desire before he pulls away and wrenches the shirt apart.
Buttons clatter to the wood floor.
Our connection broken, I take a moment to admire the taut curves of his muscled chest and the smattering of blond hair that makes him so damn masculine. So irresistible.
“If that dress isn’t on the floor in three seconds flat, I’m ripping the damn thing off you.” The dim lamp light glints off his steely eyes like shards of molten glass.
His unabashed hunger for me infuses my bloodstream with confidence.
I ease the single strap off my shoulder, unhurried by his threat. I want to tease out every ounce of his need—stoke that fire and see how high it will burn.
I’m not disappointed.
When the ivory fabric finally pools at my feet, I swear I can feel the heat from his stare sear my skin.
“Like what you see?” I ask brazenly. I wasn’t wearing a bra, so I’m standing before him in nothing but a nude thong and red heels.
Dean’s gaze doesn’t detour from its ravenous perusal of my body. “No, I don’t.” His eyes finally lift to mine as he slips his shirt off. “Boys like what they see. I’m wondering how I could ever appreciate another sunset after seeing such beauty.”
My lungs.
They’ve forgotten how to breathe.
No one has ever said anything so moving to me in my life. And with such earnest honesty. He’s truly captivated by everything about me, and it makes me feel like I can fly. I want to capture the feeling and harness it to keep it with me always.
His hands reach for my hips, then slowly drift down as he lowers himself to squat and unbuckle the delicate ankle straps on my red heels. He shows surprising dexterity with such large hands. Tenderness despite his strength.
How very promising for things to come.
When he returns to his feet, he slides off his belt with a single commanding tug and lets it fall to the floor.
He then lifts me into his arms, his hands on my backside, coaxing my legs around his hips.
I take the opportunity to find his lips again, kissing him deeply as he takes us out of the entry and to the living room.
He supports my weight effortlessly—one of the advantages of our size difference.
Now that my heels are off, he’s a full foot taller than me and easily double my weight.
That sort of disparity has made me uneasy around some men in the past, but not with Dean.
He wields himself in a way that makes his size feel safe rather than threatening.
That sense of security is empowering.
Intoxicating.
I flex my hips to press myself against his hard length, still tucked away in his pants but straining up to reach me. Talk about a tease. He’s so thick and solid … and just out of my reach.
Frustration leaves me by way of a moan.
Dean nips at my bottom lip. “What is it, kitten? You need to feel my cock?” He sets me down, my ass balanced on the back of the sofa. “Is this what you want?” He works his hips to rub himself up and down against my center.
The sensation sends a blossoming warmth through my body that has me clambering for more. It’s an offering of crumbs when I see the whole feast just out of reach.
“Feels so good, but I need more, Dean.”
He makes a disapproving tsking sound. “So impatient.” He reaches between us and unbuttons his pants, letting them fall to his feet, then leans in to suck my breast into his mouth, nipping at the tip with exquisite tension that has my head rolling back.
My clit swells and pulses.
When he switches to my other breast, he grinds against me again, this time with nothing between us but the thin fabric of our underwear.
“Oh God. Yes.”
The enhanced feel of him has me hurdling toward a release I can hardly comprehend.
It’s too soon.
This never happens. But my muscles all clench, and my breaths hitch in my throat.
“You’re going to come for me already, aren’t you? Such a good girl.” He nips at my breast again, intensifying the graze of his teeth over my nipple, and it’s exactly what I need to seize hold of orgasmic bliss.
My thighs squeeze tight around his hips as I release a cry of ecstasy.
“Oh, baby girl. You’re in trouble.”
Dean’s gravelly words tease at my consciousness, still muddled as I drift on the waves of release.
“Huh?”
“Making you come might be my new favorite hobby.” He eases my feet to the floor and turns me to face the back of the couch, gently holding me steady in my disoriented state.
Once I’m securely holding the sofa, he kicks off his shoes and disappears from behind me for a moment. I hear a tear of foil, and a renewed tingle of excitement trickles down my spine.
I need this man inside me. Now.
Orgasms are fabulous, but there’s nothing like the feel of being well fucked.
When I sense him return to me, I arch my back to press my entrance toward him in invitation.
“Fuck, kitten. You couldn’t be any more perfect.”
He accents his words with an appreciative squeeze of my ass cheek. I’ve always been a bit wistful that I didn’t have more junk in the trunk, but the way he hisses at the contact tells me he’s not bothered one bit.
His wide palm gives my ass a sudden smack that has me gasping and arching in pleasure.
I’m thinking about how my panties must be absolutely drenched when he promptly rips off the offending fabric. His body bends forward to align with mine—his front to my back—and the scalding heat of his cock teases my entrance.
“Lift onto your toes,” he rasps.
I do as I’m told, and he guides himself inside me a couple of inches.
A tremble wracks his body.
“Don’t want to … rip you apart … but … fuck, you feel so damn good.” His ragged words stroke my skin with their praise and help me relax against the intense fullness filling me.
“Keep going.” My encouragement is shaky and breathless, but he listens, nonetheless.
Soon, Dean is fully sheathed inside me.
The arm circling my middle leaves me as he rises upright and takes hold of my hips, his strong hands grasping me just shy of bruising.
“Hold tight, beautiful.”
The growled words are the only warning I have before he pulls back, then impales me with a single thrust, followed by another, and another, until he’s fucking me with a savage intensity.
Sometimes during sex, I have to focus on the sensations to stoke them forward, but with Dean, I couldn’t control the wildfire raging inside me if I had to. He’s in command, and my body has sworn fealty to obey only him. I am simply along for the ride.
And what a magnificent ride it is.
Already sensitive from my orgasm, the bundle of nerves inside me shimmers and sparks with an impending eruption of pleasure. The slap of Dean’s body against mine mimics my pounding heartbeat. And every delicious thrust is accented by his balls colliding with my clit.
I’m seconds from succumbing to what might be the most mind-altering orgasm I’ve ever experienced when everything stops, and I’m suddenly empty.
“Wha—?” My incoherent moan earns me a wicked chuckle.
“I’m not nearly ready for this to be over. Come with me.” Dean takes my hand and guides me around the sofa, positioning me on my back, then walking away.
Wondering what he’s up to sends a giddy lightness through my chest.
My heart stumbles drunkenly around in my rib cage, nearly falling flat on its face when I hear the clink of a belt buckle being lifted off the wood floors.
The tiniest sliver of fear spikes my bloodstream, adding to the intoxicating cocktail of emotions, but I forget everything when Dean returns, and I’m treated to the unabashed sight of his naked body for the first time.
The man.
Is.
Spectacular.
There truly are no words for his brand of perfection. Dean is the physical embodiment of masculinity. Of predatory grace. Each sculpted muscle flexes with restrained power as he moves, his actions dripping with a natural dominance.
I watch raptly as his adept hands somehow form a double loop with the belt.
“Hands above your head.” He rests a knee on the sofa cushion next to me while securing the belt around my proffered wrists. Once he’s happy with the restraint, he guides my bound hands to rest on the cushions above my head. “Keep those exactly where they are, understood?”
“Yes, sir,” I breathe.
An animalistic growl tears from his throat as he slams his lips against mine, possessing my mouth with a need so primal, it speaks to me on a cellular level.
My knees fall open, begging for his attention.
Dean’s kiss travels down to my chest as he repositions himself over me. My body writhes with his touch. And when his tongue finally takes a languorous lick along my slit, I have an almost out-of-body experience.
“Yesss, Dean. God, it feels so good.”
He groans against my flesh. I adore the sounds he makes—like he’s not just getting off on eating me out but has found his own personal heaven between my thighs.
For the briefest second, I panic over the impending loss of this moment.
How can this possibly be a one-time thing?
I’ve never experienced sex like this. Never so overwhelmingly intense. Will I ever find this again, or is this the only time I’ll ever know such all-consuming lust?
The thoughts are thunderous clouds lurking all around, but Dean’s touch is the sun that fights off the rain. Before long, I’m lost in the bliss of that orgasm he’s been teasing me with.
“So close…” I moan.
My legs twitch.
Tingles erupt in my center.
Dean pulls away.
“No! I just need a little more, please!”
“You’ll come when I’m ready for you to come.” He nips at my inner thigh before rising and removing the belt from my hands. In one swift motion, he lifts me and repositions us so that he’s sitting low on the sofa, and I’m straddling his hips.
Up above him, I feel powerful. Divine.
I feel like I rule the world, and the glint in his eyes tells me that at this moment, I do rule his world.
I reach up and remove the rubber band and clips holding my hair in place. Long black swaths of hair cascade down all around me.
“If you were any more beautiful, it would be illegal,” he says on a reverent breath.
“Would you lock me up, then?”
“Might lock you up anyway.” His hands squeeze my hips. “Now, ride my cock and squeeze me until I can’t see straight.”
He helps guide his shaft deep inside me as I impale myself on him.
I feel so damn full in this position. It’s almost too much.
Almost.
But not quite.
The pressure skates on the edge of pleasure and pain, leaning into the pleasure with every rock of my hips.
He groans as I gain momentum, taking what I want from him.
But I quickly realize I’m no more in control than I was before when he clasps my hips and begins to fuck me from below, using my body for his pleasure, and mine.
The gleam in his eyes is positively feral. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“You take me so good, kitten.” His words are spoken between panted breaths.
I have to brace my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. My modest breasts bob and bounce with the pounding thrusts. The sight of them, along with his chiseled abs clenching tight below, is such a turn-on that I’m now rocking with his motions and matching his intensity.
“Pinch those perfect pink nipples for me, Sachi. Show me how good it feels.”
I keep one hand anchored against him and use the other to tease myself. My lips part wider as I gasp from the cataclysmic storm building inside me.
It’s too much.
Inconsolable.
Uncontrollable.
I feel my very existence unraveling as the pounding in my ears heralds the approach of something apocalyptic.
Taking one last look at Dean, I try to sear the vision of him, muscles flexed—restraint warring with desire—into my brain so that I can take some tiny piece of this night with me.
“Oh God. Dean!”
“Yes, baby. Say my name when you come on my cock.”
“Say it,” he roars.
“Dean.”
“Say it louder. I want the whole goddamn city to hear who you belong to.”
“Dean!” I cry at the top of my lungs, propelled into an orgasm so intense that my vision darkens and my ears can no longer hear through the ringing.
“Fuck, yes.” Dean joins me, pumping into me with two claiming thrusts.
I lean forward, too limp to stay upright, and rest my head in the crook of his neck. When my hearing returns, I’m treated to the sated sound of our panting breaths filling the empty night air.
“So fucking perfect.”
I wonder if the intensity of our connection has enabled him to read my mind because his awe-filled murmur is precisely what I’m thinking.
So fucking perfect.
And I know deep in my bones no other man will ever measure up.