Chapter 10 #2
“I’m sick of this. I’m tired of you using me to satisfy your daydreams. It’s not fair, Dylan. I have feelings, I’m not just something you can pick up and discard as it suits you.”
All of a sudden, this bastard of a man is on top of me.
His hands locked around my wrists, his body heavy against mine, and his heated breaths puffing in my face.
“Do you think I don’t know that? What do you think I’d give right now to have you out of my hair?
Life was a whole lot simpler before you turned up.
I knew exactly what was what. Now—” he shakes his head, “—it’s all fucked up.
Everything. But all I can think about is you. ”
He leans close so that his lips are level with my ear. “I’ve spent eight torturous nights straight catching barely a wink of sleep because all I can think about is you, and how badly I want to repeat what we shared in my hotel room.”
“You could have called.”
He might not have my number, but that didn’t stop him the first time around.
In any case, even if he’d had my direct line, we both know he wouldn’t have reached out.
Solemnly, he shakes his head. “This—” he leans close so that his lips are level with my ear again, “—it doesn’t make sense to me.
You get me hard, Kira. Logically, that shouldn’t be the case, and yet… Feel me, if you don’t believe me.”
I can feel him prodding up against me. I don’t need to shift a muscle to do it. He’s stiff again already. Stiff and needy, and possibly as equally agitated as I feel.
Goddammit, why can’t this be simple?
“What do you want, Kira?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
He shrugs. “I’m not a mind reader.”
“What do you want?” I counter. For nor am I.
“Me, I think it’s pretty damned apparent what I want.
I want to join us up. I want to fuck you until you scream and shatter into a thousand pieces, and even then I don’t want to stop.
I want to keep on fucking you and your stupidly perfect body, fucking you and fucking you, until you’re nothing more than a quaking, come-filled mess. ”
A chuckle worms its way free of my lips. “Reckon you’ve the stamina for that?”
He bends his head from side to side. His eyes narrow. “I’m always up for a challenge,” he confides. “Especially the kind that causes otherwise rigidly proper people to completely lose their shit.”
Is that how he sees me, as being rigidly proper? That’s so far from the truth it’s laughable.
“You realise a thumb in my arse isn’t going to have me slavishly worshipping your every breath. No handy prostate for you to massage,” I elaborate.
He has the grace to laugh. “Reckon I have more than one trick in my repertoire, and while you might not have that particular hot button, you do have a hot button.” He hasn’t forgotten what happened when he set his mouth to work on my clit, and nor for that matter have I.
Do I want to feel him there again? Hell, yeah!
“Do you want my mouth on you, Kira?”
“Depends on the terms.”
“Does it?” He plants kisses on my throat while he wriggles a hand between us and slides two long fingers between the lips of my pussy.
Shudders of joy stream through my body at his persistent touch, and I cream all over his fingers.
“I think you want this regardless of what happens once we leave this room.”
Isn’t that the sad truth of the matter? God, I’m an idiot, but that’s infatuation for you…not to mention hope. There’s still a part of me that believes this, whatever it is, can turn into a genuine relationship.
“As do you,” I counter, not sure if I’m stating that as a fact or pleading for confirmation.
“Yes,” he confirms, quietly. “And now that we agree on that point, can we stop niggling at one another and concentrate on doing what we both want?”
Interesting turn of phrase, given that his fingers are still mercilessly petting my clit.
“I don’t want to be used, Dylan. I don’t want this if it means in a few hours’ time you’re going to walk out of the door and pretend this didn’t happen again. I don’t want this if you’re never going to call.”
“Yes, you do. And I will…call. I can’t think of anyone else I could call when I want to fuck a glorious pair of breasts or when I want to dip my wick into a honeyed cunt.”
“If that’s meant to be reassuring…”
He slides his fingers inside me, and resumes the massaging of my clit with his thumb, making lazy circles, which he punctuates with bouts of lightning fast up and down strokes.
My thoughts fray and I curse, because he has me.
I want him. And I know it’s insane, but I’m prepared to have him on whatever moronic terms he’s offering.
I don’t honestly know that he has any clue what those terms are even.
“Something about you makes me horny as hell, Kira Carter-Wells. Whenever you’re around my whole world gets skewed on its axis, and the worst thing is, I think I’m actually starting to like it.
No—” He moves slightly, as he corrects himself, so that his cock is now butting up against my clit alongside his fingers.
“I definitely like it. I like it one hell of a lot. So much that you’d better tell me right now if you don’t want me to fill your cunt with my dick as I really want to fuck you.
So tell me, are we on the same page, or do I need to get the fuck off you and give my arm a workout? ”
I’m tempted to call him out. Imagine the sight, lying next to Dylan Drake and watching him stroke himself.
How furious he’d be. How utterly delicious.
Glorious enough that even imagining it makes me glaze my lips, but much as the vision would be a treat, I want his body pressed tight to mine.
I like his weight above me. What’s more, I want his cock butting up against me two inches lower than where it currently lies.
I want him inside me, fucking me like both our lives depend upon it.
Even if I only get him for this night, I’ll take that.
So help me God, I’ll take it. Whatever this beautiful, stupid, ridiculous man wants… We’re all fools for love, right?
I shimmy beneath him, which is motion enough to get us lined up so his cock is kissing my entrance. I wrap my legs around his waist, making the invitation explicit, then add another point of encouragement by digging my nails into the joyous perfection of his arse.
“Fuck my cunt, Dylan,” I murmur straight into his ear, before giving the lobe an encouraging nip.
“Your cunt is so fucking wet for me.”
That’s right. It makes that moment of joining all the more special.
He’s a fast learner, this bastard of a man. He doesn’t just fuck me with his cock and imagine that’s enough to make my world explode. He surrounds me with his body, his glorious scent. His lips move against mine, and when we’re not kissing, he’s whispering sweet and dirty encouragements.
When I come, the moment sneaks up on me.
I gasp, body arched beneath him, my muscles squeezing him tight while my heart hammers hard against my ribcage.
I’ve barely caught my breath before he’s reared back onto his knees and his fingers are on me again, gently petting my clit, then scissoring either side of his cock and pressing inside me alongside his cock.
“Are you sure about the finger in your arse?”
“Never tried it,” I confess.
“Oh, Kira.” He raises his hand to my mouth and slips his index finger between my lips. “Get it nice and wet.”
“Be gentle.”
“Honey, I know what I’m doing.”
Yes. Yes…he does at that. He rolls us so that I’m on top, and continues to rock me on his cock, while his finger persistently circles the pucker of my back entrance. When he dips it inside, I lose my mind.
“I know, honey. I know how insane it feels to have something penetrate you where it has no right to be. The whole wrongness of it is just so fucking right.”
“Do you like being fucked like that?”
“No.”
“You don’t like being sodomized?”
“No.” He licks along the curve of my neck as I arch my back. I don’t know whether to believe him or not. There’s something about the monosyllabic nature of his answer that leads me to believe the issue is complicated. Now isn’t the time to dive around inside his psyche though.
“Your fingers feel so good.”
“Just my fingers?”
“Everything.” I’m on the verge of coming again.
Right on the edge. This time, I intend him to tumble into starlight with me.
I lean forward and smother him in kisses as my body bows and aches and I come squeezing tight around his cock and the infuriating tickle of his digit in my arse.
All wrung out, I blink my eyes open in time to see Dylan climax too.
It’s only when I feel the force of him ejaculating, that it dawns on me what we’ve just done.
I’m the dumbest fucking moron on the planet. I just let Hollywood’s top grossing gay playboy go bareback with me. Shit!
Just to clarify, it’s not baby-making I’m worried about. Obviously, that’s always a concern, but I’ve been taking birth control since I was fifteen to control the heaviness of my flow. It’s what else I might have exposed myself to.
“You didn’t use a condom.” The remark comes out a little more snippy than I intend.
Dylan blinks at me, like I’m insane, then his mouth opens and closes a couple of times. “Oh, shit! Jeezus, I’m sorry. That was fucking thoughtless. Do we need to find a pharmacy?” His brow scrunches as if he’s not entirely certain about what he’s suggesting.”
I shake my head. “I’m on the pill, but…”