Chapter 22 Dillan #2
God, that sounds like heaven.
“Yes,” I hiss, gripping him so tightly, I’m afraid I’ll draw blood.
“You want me to taste this pretty pussy, principessa? You want to come on my tongue before you come on my cock?” he asks, punctuating the question with two fingers sliding inside me. Stretching me.
His tongue flicks my lips. “Or should I fuck you first, then lick your cunt clean until you’re begging me to fuck you again?”
Oh, holy shit.
He licks into my mouth, holding me hostage in his arms with his words and wicked promises, and I moan, long and deep and desperate.
My body threatens to burst into flames as I ride his hand, holding him closer.
Something falls from the table behind me, but we don’t stop.
He kisses me in time to the rhythm of his hand, and I take it. Take him. My body tightens and squeezes and begs for release until he curls his fingers against my walls and presses down on my clit with his rough thumb.
I circle my hips as my body flushes and fights, desperate for more.
“So close,” I pant.
“You’re fucking beautiful, Dillan. Let go for me, baby. Give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you need,” he growls.
The power in his demanding words is all I need to push me right off the single thread I’d been balancing on, and my back bows and hips buck as my orgasm steals my breath and sparks light up my vision.
Breaking me and healing me and holding me hostage as Rome continues to stroke me again and again until one orgasm rolls into two.
Aftershocks fire and fuel me on and on.
“Rome,” I moan in a strangled breath as I reach for him, shoving his pants down. Needing to feel him.
More of him.
All of him.
“More,” I demand. Greedy and wanton.
“I need to get a condom,” he says abruptly, his breaths coming out in ragged pants, but I don’t let go. I may never let go again.
I hold his gaze with mine. Needing him to hear this. To hear me.
“You don’t,” I tell him, begging him to believe me. “I’m clean, and I’m on the pill, and I just want to feel you. Nothing between us. Not this time.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, a hand sliding through my hair to hold the back of my head. “I’m tested regularly for the league, and I’ve never been with anyone bare, Dillan. Never wanted to until you.”
I nod, and he kisses my lips. “Words, Dillan. I need your words.”
“I’m sure.” I pull his body to mine, tracing the lines of his ink with my tongue. “I just need you.”
I grip his cock in my hand, running my thumb over the thick tip, dragging it through my drenched core as Rome grabs the backs of my thighs and pulls my ass to the edge of the table.
My racing pulse skyrockets into the stratosphere as Rome’s hand replaces mine, and the head of his cock smacks against my swollen clit.
I gasp, and the hard lines of his body tighten as if he’s afraid to hurt me.
As if he’s about to hold back.
Hell no.
I lean up and take his lips with mine. “Don’t you dare hold back.”
“Never,” he promises, but this angle is shit. Rome is too tall, and the table and I are both too short. Even arched over, we’re not going to get the relief we need.
He realizes it too, and with my ass cupped in his hands, he lifts me, spinning us so he’s sitting on the kitchen chair and I’m straddling him. The tips of my toes barely brush the tile floor beneath us.
My nipples peak and ache with every slide of my soft chest against his hard one, but that thought is soon erased as he lowers me, impaling me on his cock, inch by deliciously thick, long, tight inch.
“More,” I beg. “Don’t tease me.”
I press down, wanting all of him, but his arms are thick bands around my body, holding me still. Controlling me. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” I pant and shimmy my hips. I try desperately to reach the floor, so I can get the leverage I need as I watch the control Rome is so damn determined to hold on to slipping inch by deliciously burning inch until it’s gone.
He thrusts up as I sink down and —oh, God— nothing has ever felt this good.
This right.
He holds himself still, staring into my eyes. “You okay?”
“Better than okay. Now. Please. Move.”
I pour myself into a soul-splintering kiss, the kind that changes the DNA on a primal level as Rome moves inside me. Bottoming out before pulling out, inch by inch, and doing it again and again. Setting a brutally perfect pace.
He’s so fucking deep, I don’t know where I stop and he starts.
It’s painful perfection.
His hands grip my hips in a bruising hold, and I know I’ll feel his touch for days. See it in the marks left on my body, and it only makes me want him more. “Never gonna get enough of you, Dillan. Enough of this. All fucking mine.”
His words are like honey coating my skin, thick and delicious, as I cling to his shoulders, and my orgasm builds inside me again.
The chair creeks beneath us, but we ignore it as we chase the promise of ecstasy that’s just out of reach.
My body winds tighter with each lift of his hips as his mouth lowers to my breast and captures my nipple and his teeth tug on the hard peak.
I rock my hips against his, desperate for more.
For everything.
I’m on the edge.
“So close . . . I need . . .” I have no words. No thoughts as I chase the high I’m desperate for. So close.
“I know. I’ve got you.”
And he does.
His mouth takes mine, fucking me in the same brutal rhythm with his tongue. And I’m drunk on his touch. His taste. Him.
His rough hand cups my breast, hard and biting and absolutely perfect as Rome teases my nipple, causing stars to burst behind my eyes. My orgasm barrels down over me, illuminating a million multicolored sparks arcing and soaring and burning themselves into my soul.
“Fuck, Dillan,” Rome roars. His strong hips snap against mine, thrust after beautiful thrust again and again and again until another orgasm tears through me, and I collapse against him as he empties himself inside me while I lay limp in his arms.
The chair shatters beneath us, and we fall to the floor, Rome taking the brunt of the hit as he cradles me to his chest.
“Oh shit,” I gasp and look around us at the splintered, wooden mess we lie in the center of.
Oh no . . . his back.
“Are you okay?” he asks, hands quickly covering every inch of my body. But nothing touched me. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” I laugh, checking him for blood, and thankfully finding none. “But I think I owe you a chair.”
The smile this man gives me is everything I never knew I wanted and might just be willing to give my very last breath to see again.
“Guess we need sturdier chairs,” he grins as he stands with me still in his arms. I’m awed by the sheer strength of this body he’s honed to perfection.
I wrap my arms around his shoulder and bend my knees at his waist.
“Guess we better take this to the bed for now.” I smile and press my lips to his, licking and sucking and trying my damnedest to distract him as he carries me up the stairs.