Chapter 34
IAIN
After Lennie dropped off Jaxon, Dawson got into the back seat so we could sit together.
Alone. For the first time in forty-eight hours.
He slid his right hand into my left, interlocking our fingers tightly, and I fought the urge to jump over his lap and kiss the fuck out of him.
Our legs brushed, and I began to squirm until he pulled his hand out of mine and gripped my upper thigh firmly.
Then he began to rub and squeeze, up and down, and it was the most delicious kind of torture.
My dick was so hard there was no way I was going to hide the bulge in my jeans when I got out of this truck.
Not that I cared if Lennie saw. Since he was staying in my house, and Dawson was with me, he would probably see—and hear—a hell of a lot more.
It didn’t matter.
I just needed to be alone with Dawson as soon as possible.
When we pulled up to my driveway, I was ready to bolt to the front door, but Dawson gripped my hand again.
“No. Lennie has to check the house first.”
Shit. I forgot.
“Sorry, lost my head for a second,” I whispered in Dawson’s ear. “I’m too fucking excited to be alone with you again.”
As soon as Lennie stepped out of the truck and the door slammed shut, Dawson manhandled me. My back hit the leather seat, and I was held down by the only fucking man I wanted.
“Your reaction is the biggest goddamn turn-on,” Dawson moaned before he took my mouth in a fierce kiss, ravaging my lips and sucking on my tongue like a man starved.
I kissed him back, every taste and touch of our lips more desperate than the last.
Until a knock on the door startled us.
Dawson lifted his head and let out a string of curses, then slowly sat back up, taking me with him.
After a few deep breaths, Dawson opened the door and stepped out first. Then he held his hand out to me, his eyes imploring mine. Instead of ignoring the gesture like I had in the past when we were bodyguard and client, I readily took his hand.
And this time, I didn’t let go.
Not even when my boots hit the gravel.
Not that I felt the ground below me, because I swear to God I was floating on air.
Was this what Brodie was going on about when it came to Van?
And why he couldn’t keep his hands off his husband?
This whole falling-in-love thing was more powerful than I’d anticipated.
The way Dawson held me, the way he kissed, every single touch was protective and possessive, and I was there for it.
I was standing in Dawson’s spotlight, soaking up his desire. He made my knees weak and sparked a passion I’d never believed I was capable of.
I thought I knew everything about my needs and wants, my sexual desires. Lust was simple, easy, and fun.
This, what was happening with me and Dawson, was anything but.
And fuck, I still had a difficult time wrapping my head around the changes that were happening, not just to me, to him, but to us.
We were ready to tear into each other only a few weeks ago. Now, all we wanted to do was tear our clothes off.
Lennie walked ahead as usual, ignoring or not caring that Dawson and I were still holding hands.
I didn’t give a fuck. If Lennie didn’t like it, that was his problem.
Then I imagined what it would be like if Dawson and I were a public couple. What would have made me run far and fast a month ago now filled me with a sense of longing and a wish for things to come.
We entered the front foyer, and without saying a word, Dawson dragged me down the hallway to my bedroom.
“I’d give you the full tour, but you’ve already been here,” I teased.
He stopped halfway to my room and suddenly turned.
“I shouldn’t have just assumed—”
I grabbed his face in my hands and reached up to take his lips. The kiss was as devouring and heady as the one in the truck, leaving no room for doubt or pause.
“Are you kidding me? Consider this your open invitation to my bedroom,” I whispered against his lips. “And every other room in this house.”
“Every room?”
“Each and every one.”
“Christ, it’s been two long fucking days,” Dawson groaned.
Next thing I knew, he bent down and threw me over his shoulder, carrying me in a fireman’s lift as he continued on down the hallway.
He swatted my ass for good measure, and my dick grew so hard it was damn near painful.
“You’re the first guy to literally sweep me off my feet.” I chuckled. “And why is it the sexiest thing ever?”
My eyes locked on Dawson’s round ass, flexing with every step.
Question asked and answered.
“What kind of men have you been fucking?” he bit out. “Wait, don’t answer that.”
“Don’t need to. I can’t remember anyone else.”
He rubbed and squeezed my ass as he entered my bedroom, using his foot to shut the door behind us. “Smooth talker.”
“No, that’s you. I’m the needy, whimpering kind.”
Dawson’s husky laugh filled me with happiness.
I couldn’t ever remember being so at ease with any other lover. And on the other hand, feeling so desperate for his touch.
He swatted my ass again, then threw me down on my California king.
I bounced once, and then he was on me.
Our kisses were deep and drugging. And interrupted only by our haste to get naked as soon as possible.
Dawson tore my T-shirt off, and as I struggled to unzip my jeans, he slid down the bed and yanked my boots and socks off.
Then he stood up, toed off his boots, shed his button-down, and shoved his jeans and briefs to the ground, stepping out of them.
My hands paused as I took in the sight of my gorgeous bear of a man.
I was suddenly so overwhelmed—not only by my want for him but by everything that was happening between us—that I was shy like I never was.
“All right, sweetheart?” Dawson whispered as he stared back at me.
“Yes. Just taking a moment to appreciate you.”
Dawson’s face flushed as he stepped closer. He pushed my hands away, unzipping my jeans and revealing my black jockstrap.
“Fuck, you are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he groaned. “And all mine. Roll over.”
I did as he asked and when his warm hands cupped my ass cheeks, I glanced over my shoulder. The intense look on Dawson’s face as he looked his fill had me rutting against the mattress, desperate for friction on my cock.
“Judging by the look on your face, I’m going to need to order more lube,” I quipped.
His dirty laugh made all the hair on my body stand on end.
“Cases and cases of it,” he replied.
He reached over to my nightstand, yanked on the top drawer, and threw the biggest tube of lube I owned on the bed beside me.
“But first, I’m going to feast on your beautiful ass. I’ve thought of nothing else for days,” Dawson declared as he tugged on my jockstrap. I lifted my hips and let him slide the garment down and off my body.
Dawson wasted no time, pulling my ass cheeks apart and diving right in to make good on his promise.
When his hot tongue flicked over my sensitive rim, I reached for one of my pillows and shoved it in my face, muffling my loud moan.
Dawson suddenly withdrew, and this time, I nearly screamed in frustration. “What the—”
I looked over my shoulder at him.
“None of that, now. We’re not going to censor ourselves in here,” Dawson announced, pulling the pillow out from under me and throwing it aside. He leaned over my back, blanketing my body with his, and whispered in my ear. “I want to hear every fucking filthy sound you make. Understood?”
Ngh. Bossy Dawson was so freaking hot.
“Yes,” I gasped, my body feverish for his.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
Dawson wasted no time sliding back down my body and shoving his bearded face in my ass, licking and fucking my hole with his skillful tongue. I gripped the sheets in my hands for purchase and pushed my ass back, needing more.
“More,” I begged him loudly. “Don’t stop!”
His hands gripped my ass cheeks tightly, so tight I’d probably have bruises tomorrow.
And I wanted them. I wanted Dawson to mark me, to claim me in any way he wanted.
His tongue continued to tease, licking down over my taint and back up over my hole.
Then he plunged the tip of his tongue inside me, fucking my ass with tormenting strokes.
The pleasure was so raw that I was rocking my hips back and forth, wanting more tongue in my ass and more friction on my leaking cock.
My climax was building higher and higher as he ate me out, and I chanted his name.
Fuck, I was going to come already. Hands-free.
“So close,” I panted, and he reached between my legs to cup my balls. I was about to sneak my hand underneath to tug on my cock, but Dawson pushed my hand away.
Then he withdrew his tongue with one last lick and pulled back.
“Stay.”
“What? Wait, where are you going?”
Dawson calmly padded over to my walk-in closet and opened the doors. He disappeared for a moment and came back out, holding up two long scarves.
“Just what do you plan to do with those?” I asked, curious and curiously turned on by the intense expression on his face.
His cock curled up against his stomach, the head red and leaking pre-cum.
I licked my lips as he stepped to the bed and smiled at me. “I want to see how good you are at taking orders.”
“Only the sexy kind. And only with you.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart. I don’t want to dim your fire. I want to make it burn brighter.”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
“Now spread your legs again.”
“Not my arms?”
Dawson shook his head. “I won’t risk your hands.”
I was so far gone I hadn’t even considered that. And even in this, Dawson was always looking out for me, caring for me.
I did as he asked. I looked over my shoulder and watched as he deftly tied one end of the scarf to the wooden bedpost and the other around my left ankle. Using the second scarf, he repeated the steps with my right foot.
“Not too tight?” he asked with concerned eyes.
I shook my head. I could pull my knee up close to my hip, but no higher.
Believe it or not, I’d never indulged in this type of play before. And yeah, I know, what the hell? And I called myself a rockstar?
I mean, I’d had threesomes, foursomes, and enjoyed an occasional orgy. But this kind of thing required trust, and no stranger would ever tie me down this way.
I was vulnerable like I never was, and the rush of emotions couldn’t be contained any longer.
“Only you,” I repeated.
Only him.
My heart and mind and body were all on the same page.
The only thing I needed was Dawson.