Chapter Three
Dean
She stares at me, her gorgeous green eyes opened in shock, her soft, shimmering lips parted slightly in a way that makes my pulse thrum with a burning desire. Every fiber of my being wants to get lost in her again, to feel her warmth and taste her sweetness. But as much as I crave her, something inside me whispers to take it slower, to savor this moment and learn more about this girl who has somehow got me spellbound.
I can sense her thinking about my request for her to stay the night, the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Gently, I cup her cheek and tilt her face up to mine. “Hannah, nothing will happen unless you want it to. I promise,” I assure her, my voice soft and sincere. Her gaze searches mine, and after a moment, she nods shyly, accepting my invitation.
I'm surprised at the feeling of excitement that washes over me at her acceptance. I take her hand, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin, and lead her to a plush couch near the window.
“Would you like something to drink?” I ask, keeping my tone casual.
“Just water, please,” she replies with a small smile.
I nod and step away to fetch a bottle of water from the bar. When I return, I hand it to her and settle beside her on the couch, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body, but not touching. I want her to feel comfortable, at ease.
“So, what do you do for fun?” I ask, genuinely curious.
She takes a sip of water, then glances at me with a slight blush. “Dance,” she says with a small shrug. “It’s what I do most of the time. I just love it.”
I smile and nod. “Anything else?”
“It's kind of out of place,” she says, smiling shyly.
“Now I'm more curious. Tell me.”
“I love to go bungee jumping and skydiving,” she says, smiling shyly.
I raise an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. “Really? I wouldn’t have pegged you for an adrenaline junkie.”
She laughs softly, the sound like music to my ears. “I know, right? It's kind of odd isn't it?”
“No,” I reply, shaking my head. “I think it's perfectly fitting.”
There's something about her, a fire that burns just below the surface, underneath that sweet innocence and I find myself getting pulled into its flames. More than my physical attraction to her, I find myself wanting to know things about her that I never cared to know about anyone else before. I want to know three things that make her tick, what gets her excited and her wildest fantasy. I find myself wanting to crack stupid jokes just so I can see her blush adorably, her gorgeous green eyes twinkling with mirth.
What the hell is this feeling?
“What kind of dance do you do?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Contemporary ballet,” she replies, pausing to glance up at me with a self-conscious smile. “It’s a blend of classical ballet and modern dance. Ballet is structured and rigid, with strict techniques and forms that you have to follow. Modern dance, on the other hand, is more fluid and expressive. I’ve always felt a bit conflicted between the two,” she explains, her eyes reflecting her passion.
I nod, encouraging her to continue. “How so?”
“Well, I grew up with ballet. It was all about discipline and precision, which I respect and appreciate. But emotionally, I always felt restricted by its rigidity. Modern dance allowed me to express myself more freely, to explore emotions and movements that ballet didn’t. Over time, I’ve developed a sort of hybrid, lyrical style that combines the structure of ballet with the freedom of modern dance. It wasn’t intentional; it just happened naturally as I tried to reconcile the two,” she says, her voice filled with a quiet intensity.
“That sounds incredible,” I say, genuinely impressed. “It must take a lot of creativity and skill to blend those two styles.”
We continue chatting, trading information about each other back and forth like little treasures. She tells me she’s in her last semester of school and came to Vegas on spring break with her friends—the brunette and redhead she was dancing with earlier—as a last hoorah. I tell her about everything that I’ve put into opening this place for the last few years. We both realize we’ve spent significant time in Seattle, with her growing up there and me working there for a time; a connection we should’ve made sooner considering we met on a flight from Seattle to New York. As we talk, we grow closer; both physically and emotionally.
“Are you glad you came here?” I ask.
“Of course,” she replies. “Here I am in this luxurious suite with the most amazing view of the city.” She stands up and does a double twirl, laughing excitedly as she runs over to the window again. “Life feels so beautiful right now, don't you think?”
I shake my head, chuckling at her childlike excitement. I stand up and go to join her by the window, turning her around to face me,
“That it does,” I say, smiling into her laughing face. “I want to kiss you so badly right now, Hannah.”
Her eyes widen in surprise, and her laughter fades away, replaced by a soft gasp. She looks up at me, her eyes boring into mine, as if searching for something only she knows. I can see the flutter of her pulse in her neck, and her lips part slightly as if inviting me to take the leap. The air between us is electric, charged with tension and anticipation. I take a step closer, my heart pounding in my chest, and my voice drops to a whisper. "May I?" I ask, my eyes locked on hers, seeking her consent.
She nods, but stops me just before I press my mouth to hers. “I – I have to tell you, it’s actually my first time,” she says as a blush creeps up her cheeks.
“What?” I ask, blinking at her in shock.
“I- I'm a virgin,” she stutters, swallowing nervously. She lifts her eyes to mine once again and what I see in the dazzling green depths makes my breath cease in my throat.
“But,” she continues, “I want you, Dean.”
I should stop now. I should make some stupid excuse and escort her to her friends. I should end this madness while I still have some shred of control…
Ignoring the insistent warnings of my conscience, I lower my head to hers and capture her mouth with mine once again.
God, I’m already addicted to her taste. And her smell. It’s so warm. Like honey. She gives a little whimper, melting against me in a way that makes my core tighten. Every inch of her soft body molds perfectly into mine, her breasts pressing against my ribs, her lips parting to give me access. I swirl my tongue over hers, loving the soft, needy moan that escaped her throat. I tease the outline of her lips with the tip of my tongue, nipping their fullness.
I can feel my cock hardening and it takes everything in me to suppress the urge to go feral, to lose control and claim her like I need to. But Hannah is different… She's pure and innocent. And sweet.
With a groan, I lay her back on the couch without breaking the kiss and climb over her, supporting my weight with my arms. I can eat my blood roaring in my ears, rushing through my veins in hot waves. Tearing my mouth away from her, I trail hot kisses down her throat, pressing my lips against the rapid beating of her pulse. I kiss a path over her soft, sweet skin, tasting her, nibbling her earlobe.
“Oh!” Hannah whimpers and turns her head to the side, surrendering her throat to me. I can feel her body trembling beneath mine, her breathing uneven as her body rocks into mine.
I slide her dress down her shoulders, slowly, waiting for her to stop me and when she doesn't, I reach behind her to pull her zipper down. My breath ceases in my throat at the sight of her lacy pink bra. I reach out slowly, trailing my fingers over the mounds of her breast until my fingers find the clasp of her bra between her breasts. I unhook it and cup her left breast, gently flicking her nipple with my thumb.
“God, Hannah, you have such beautiful breasts,” I murmur, hungrily raking my eyes over her tits.
She lets out a soft moan, her eyes growing wider, her cheeks redder…
“Do you like it when I do this, Honey?” I ask, teasing her pebbled nipple between my thumb and forefinger. She opens her eyes, her breathing ragged as she stares deeply into my eyes. “Do you?
“Y- yes,” she stutters.
“I bet you'd like this better,” I say, ducking down to draw one of her nipples into my mouth.
"Oh, Dean!" Hannah gasps, her body jerking unconsciously. I continue to tease her with my tongue, stroking and suckling, switching between both breasts until her moans become desperate cries of pleasure.
I grind my erection against her hip, my body strung so tightly I think it might snap. Maybe I'm an idiot for taking things this far. I should stop… she deserves dates in the moonlight with candles and roses, not me grinding against her.
I need to stop. But how can I when Hannah is coming apart in my arms, her response burning me up? Her little moans and whimpers are driving me out of my mind, her wine-dark nipples drawn into tight buds that begged for my mouth.
I want to fuck her long and hard. I want to make her come again and again. I want to forget myself inside her. But I also don't want to rush her. She deserves way better than that…
The least I can do is make her come. Right?
Dragging my lips from hers, I place my hands on her knees and push her legs apart. The scent of her arousal hit me, and it takes everything in me not to throw caution in the wind and claim her right there and then.
“Look at me, Hannah.” She looks up at me, so beautiful it makes my chest ache. Without taking my eyes off her, I slide a finger over her folds, stifling a curse at how wet she is. “Tell me if you want me to stop at any point, okay?”
She nods, letting out a soft whimper when I brush my thumb against her clitoris. I look at her, taking her all in… Her slightly parted lips… Her flushed skin and dilated eyelids… Damn, she's gorgeous.
I slide a finger into her, testing her readiness. She clenches around my finger, her hip rising to meet my thrust.
“Does it hurt?” I ask, searching her face.
She shakes her head, running her tongue over her perched upper lip. My gut tightens at the gesture, my blood roaring in my ears as my cock strains for release. Ignoring the lust thrumming in my veins, I withdraw my finger and slide it in again, slowly, without taking my eyes off her. Her breathing hitches, her eyes drifting close. I lean down and kiss her, while still moving my finger rhythmically inside her, my thumb circling and pressing. My free hand remains on her hip to hold her still as I continue to tease her, mirroring the actions of my finger with my tongue.
Suddenly, she stiffens, pushing against my hand. I reduce my strokes, bringing her back from the brink and with one last thrust, I push her right over the edge. She comes apart, her body shuddering violently as a powerful wave of orgasm overcomes her.
I don’t stop. I ride through it with her, keeping the pressure and rhythm steady, trying to prolong her pleasure in every way I can. I run my mouth over her body; her breasts, her throat, her lips, everywhere… until the quaking inside her slowly subsides.
We lay quietly for a long time. I held her, unable to take my eyes off her, as her breathing slowly returned to normal, her body now limp, a sheen of sweat on her flushed skin. Then she opens her eyes shyly and meets my gaze, her eyes clouded with an emotion that fills me with warmth.
“W-what about you?” She asks shyly, glancing briefly at the erection straining against my pants before returning her gaze to my face, her blush deepening.
“I'm all good, Honey,” I say, gently stroking her cheek. "Nothing a cold bath can't fix.”
She looks at the bulge in my pants again and for a moment, I catch the fleeting regret in her eyes, and I feel a sudden surge of masculine pride. Of course, she wants all of me. Then her lips curve in a soft, sated smile, her eyes slowly closing. In a matter of moments, she's sound asleep.
One hour later, after a long and very cold shower, I slip back into bed, turn out the light, and pull Hannah's soft body against mine. She comes easily, instantly snuggling into me. An unconscious smile tugs at my lips as I bury my face in her neck and draw the covers over both of us.
For the first time since I remember, I feel… peaceful.