18. Dylan #2
When he sets me down beside the bed, he doesn’t immediately reach for my zipper. Instead, he cups my face in his hands and just… looks at me. Studies me like he’s memorizing every detail.
“What?” I ask softly.
“I’m trying to make this moment last.” His thumbs stroke my cheekbones. “I’ve imagined this so many times, and the reality is better than anything I could have dreamed.”
“You’re being very patient for someone who wanted to skip dinner.”
“I have plans, wife.” His hands slide down my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “And they require taking my time.”
He turns me slowly until I’m facing away from him, until he can see the bare expanse of my back exposed by the dress. His breath catches sharply.
“This dress.” His fingers trace my spine. “This dress has been torturing me all night.”
“That was the intention.”
“Mission accomplished.” He presses a kiss to my shoulder blade. “But now it needs to come off.”
The zipper slides down with agonizing slowness, and he follows its path with his mouth, kissing each newly exposed inch of skin. By the time the dress pools at my feet, I’m trembling.
“Turn around.”
I comply, and his eyes go dark as he takes in the sight of me. The lace underwear I chose deliberately, the heels I haven’t removed, the rings glinting on my finger.
“You’re so beautiful.” His voice is reverent. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
He guides me onto the bed and follows, pressing me into the mattress with the weight of his body. But he doesn’t rush. Instead, he takes his time, kissing his way across my collarbone, down between my breasts, along the curve of my waist.
“I’m going to worship every inch of you.” He presses a kiss to my hip bone. “I’m going to make up for every night I wasn’t here.”
“That’s a lot of nights.”
“Then it’s a good thing we have time.” He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my underwear and slides it down my legs. “Starting now.”
His mouth finds my center, and I arch off the bed with a cry.
He’s thorough. Devastating. He uses his tongue and fingers with a precision that suggests he spent the last year not just imagining this, but planning it in meticulous detail. He reads my responses with precision, adjusting his tempo and pressure based on every gasp and moan.
When I finally shatter, it’s with his name on my lips and my hands fisted in his hair.
He doesn’t stop.
He works me through the aftershocks and then builds me up again, relentless and insatiable. By the time he finally rises over me, I’m boneless and trembling, barely coherent.
“Dylan, please-”
“Please what?” He’s positioned at my entrance, but he doesn’t push inside. Just holds there, the promise of him pressing against me. “Tell me what you want.”
“You. I want you.”
“You have me.” He leans down to capture my mouth. “You’ve always had me. Even when I was too stupid to show it.”
He slides inside me slowly, inch by agonizing inch, and we both groan at the sensation. It’s been so long. Over a year since we’ve been together like this, and the feeling of being filled by him again is overwhelming.
“God, Selene.” His forehead drops to mine. “You feel… I don’t even have words.”
“Then stop talking.” I wrap my legs around his hips. “And move.”
He obeys.
***
Dylan
Every thrust feels like coming home.
She’s tight. Warm. So perfect around me, her body responding to mine remembering exactly how we fit together. I try to maintain control, try to make this last, but it’s impossible when she’s looking at me like that, when she’s making those sounds, when she’s finally, finally mine again.
“I love you.” The words spill out between kisses. “I love you so much it terrifies me.”
“I love you too.” Her nails rake down my back. “I never stopped. Even when I wanted to.”
I increase my pace, driven by her words, by the need to be closer, deeper, more connected. Her back arches off the mattress as I hit that spot inside her that makes her cry out.
“Right there?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Yes… God, yes don’t stop…”
I have no intention of stopping.
I shift my angle, hooking her leg over my shoulder to go deeper, and watch her face as pleasure overtakes her features. She’s close. I can feel it in the way she’s tightening around me, hear it in the pitch of her moans.
“Come for me, baby.” I reach between us to circle her clit. “I want to feel you fall apart.”
She shatters with a scream that I swallow with my mouth, her inner walls clenching around me so hard I can barely move. But I don’t let up. I work her through it, extending the pleasure until she’s sobbing against my shoulder.
Only then do I let myself follow, spilling inside her with a groan that comes from somewhere deep in my chest.
We collapse together, tangled and completely spent.
“That was…” Selene trails off, apparently unable to find adequate words.
“Yeah.” I press a kiss to her temple. “It really was.”
I roll onto my back and pull her against my chest, her head fitting perfectly into the curve of my shoulder. My hand finds hers, and I trace the outline of the rings now back on her finger.
“These stay on this time.”
“They stay on.” She tilts her head up to look at me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” She kisses my jaw. “You’re stuck with me, Mr. Riego.”
“Best news I’ve ever heard.” I tighten my arms around her. “I love you, wife.”
“I love you too, husband.”
I fall asleep with her in my arms, exactly where she belongs.
And for the first time in over a year, I don’t dream about losing her.
I dream about keeping her forever.