21. Bravery reward #5
Dylan’s pleas and desperate demands dripped down the cold plastered walls as Greta did exactly as she was commanded to and fucked Dylan through her orgasm.
Her own simultaneous release thundered through her, making her burning thighs almost buckle under the force of it.
Spurred on by the sight of Dylan unravelling in a way she had never seen before, Greta dug her nails into Dylan’s thighs and used every last ounce of strength she possessed to give Dylan what she needed.
‘Fuck me, Greta, fuck! I’m com—Jesus… Fuck!’ Dylan’s body shook and stretched as another climax fired through her.
As Dylan came for the second time, she pulled Greta flush against her, the dildo still buried deep. Her fingers pressed into Greta’s flesh so tightly that the delicious sting made Greta think she’d be marked. She hoped she would be.
Amazed and absolutely exhausted, Greta stayed on her knees between Dylan’s legs, held tight by her splayed fingers.
Dylan swore, panted, and moaned as the powerful aftershocks violently jolted her body.
Reaching down in between their bodies, Greta’s trembling finger found the harness pouch to turn off the bullet, which had become unbearable.
As they kissed, Greta moved to slowly and tentatively pull out of Dylan.
‘No,’ Dylan whispered urgently, tightening her grip. ‘Stay inside me.’
Greta leaned forward, her thighs shaking and almost completely useless as her full weight rested on Dylan.
‘Are you okay?’ Greta whispered.
‘I don’t… I…’ Dylan stammered. She tried to moisten her lips, swallowing hard against the lump that seemed to have clenched in her throat.
Brushing the damp curls away from Dylan’s forehead, Greta pulled back slightly to properly take in her face.
She held Dylan’s face still with her fingers, staring at her with a raw intensity, and something changed in Dylan’s eyes.
Dylan blinked slowly, biting her lip; Greta sensed a desperate need to say something profound in Dylan’s expression.
Greta searched her eyes, trying to find the words Dylan was struggling to keep in.
‘Are you mine?’ Dylan asked quietly, her brows pleading.
‘Hmm?’ Greta hummed, the sound vibrating between them.
She had heard the question but needed an extra second, not to be doubly sure of her answer, but to hear Dylan ask again.
Letting out a breathy moan, Dylan tilted her pelvis, pushing herself against Greta. ‘Are you mine?’ she repeated, pulling Greta’s hips into her own, her grip bruising into Greta’s soft flesh.
Brows furrowed, Greta watched Dylan, completely and utterly consumed by the pleasure she was giving to her.
The gravitational pull between them was too strong to resist any longer.
Too much time had been wasted in believing she could pull away and carry on with her life, only to be dragged back in every single time.
There was no one else she wanted. She hadn’t wanted anyone else for two years.
If it were just sex she needed, she could have found someone after the meetings with Remi stopped, but she hadn’t.
She didn’t want anyone else’s mouth on hers.
She didn’t want to lie in the curve of anyone else’s body.
She only wanted to smell their sex and feel their heat.
It was only Dylan she wanted with her in her kitchen, drinking coffee, making her laugh until she cried.
The chemistry was theirs—undeniable, irrefutable, and unequivocally claimed.
She had been slowly falling for two years and now, now she was ready.
‘I’m yours,’ Greta whispered.
The words seemed to hit Dylan like a physical blow, forcing her head back into the pillow. Every last particle of air escaped her lungs, as if making space for each syllable to expand and fill her chest. She pushed her hips up gently as Greta began to undulate slowly in place.
‘Say it again,’ Dylan breathed, her chest heaving.
Her fingers were digging into Greta’s flesh, pulling her closer, seemingly frustrated that even with their bodies fused with sweat and heat, they weren't close enough. Greta pressed her forehead against Dylan’s.
Her movements were slow, suddenly controlled by Dylan’s capable hands, firmly guiding Greta by the cheeks of her arse.
The movement between them was subtle, practically imperceptible but sensational.
Dylan began to shake, her ragged breaths falling onto Greta’s parted lips as she started to break again. ‘Say it again,’ she whimpered.
‘I’m yours,’ Greta whispered, the emotion finally spilling over as a single tear fell from the corner of her eye. Her voice trembled as she quietly repeated, ‘I’m yours, Dylan.’
Kissing Dylan softly, Greta traced every curve of her mouth, as Dylan’s unrelenting hands held her in place.
Dylan slowly ground herself against the soft skin of Greta’s pelvis, the harness digging into them both, the dildo buried in a place no other woman had ever discovered.
Dylan’s orgasm was coming from somewhere so deep it made Greta want to sob.
Dylan rode out her third and final climax with deep moans, repeating Greta’s name until her hands finally let go, unable to take any more.
As Dylan shuddered one last time, Greta pressed her lips to the soft shell of her ear and whispered, ‘I’m yours.’