Chapter 32
Lily
I hopped out of bed and tiptoed to my door like I was working a spy mission. Opening the door as quietly as possible and then closing it behind me without a peep, I continued into the hallway and kept my ears pricked for any indication of movement in the house.
I passed Jane’s room, and then my parents’ room, keeping my steps as light and quick as possible while inching towards the staircase. Just as I reached the landing, ready to make the quiet dash down the stairs, I stopped short when I almost ran headfirst into Jane sneaking up the stairs.
With a boy in tow.
The boy from the soccer game.
We all stopped like deer caught in headlights.
I crossed my arms over my chest in sudden awareness of what I was wearing. “Hi?”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Jane whispered.
“Deal.” I looked at the boy and smiled quickly. “I’m Lily.”
“Finn.” He gave me an awkward little wave.
“How old are you, Finn?”
“Lily,” Jane hissed.
“I’m sixteen,” Finn said, paired with a voice break.
“Okay. Just checking. Use protection if you—you know.” I spun back around and took to the stairs again.
“Dude?” Jane quietly exclaimed.
I threw a grin over my shoulder as I reached the last step, and Jane shook her head. Blushing from head to toe, she took Finn’s hand and dragged him quietly to her room.
I would talk to her about it some other time — how they met, what he’s like. For now, though, I had one thing on my mind as I hurried through the downstairs in the dark, navigating furniture to avoid a stubbed toe. Only to run my hip into the corner of a side table instead.
I stifled a pained cry as I gripped the table's edge to keep it from rattling everything on top of it. The large lamp was my main concern.
After a beat, and with the guest room door in sight, I kept moving. My heart raced as I got closer to it, as if it were my first time all over again, and I slowed my steps until I was right outside the door.
I knocked lightly and waited.
When Dean didn’t answer right away, I wondered if he heard me and made to knock again, except the door swung inwards, revealing a very naked Dean on the other side. His eyes darkened the second they fell on me.
I barely had time to study him in all his tattooed, nude glory — quickly trailing my gaze over every inch of exposed skin and muscle — before he hooked his hand around my back and pulled me into the room.
“You’re brave answering the door like this.” I fumbled to shut the door until Dean simply pressed me into it.
The door closed with a quiet click as Dean angled his head. “I liked my chances.”
Our mouths clashed, moving with passion and heat while I pushed him back, walking him towards the bed. His touch grew with need as he pushed himself against me. With our bodies so close, his semi rested against my stomach and wrinkled my lingerie in the process.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and rose to my tiptoes for more.
His fingers skimmed up my sides, lifting the dress to fall over his wrists as his thumbs brushed over the curve of my breasts. In turn, he devoured the kiss with heavy breaths and grew harder against me.
“We have to be…quiet.” I arched my head back as he kissed the column of my throat. “Their bedroom is right above us.”
“Ah-huh.” He dragged his mouth hungrily along my skin as he slipped one hand down between my legs.
My thighs squeezed around his hand at the touch, and then he found what he was looking for: the silicone string of the two silver kegel balls still inside me. With a gentle and teasing tug from him, they began to slip loose.
The kissing stopped as Dean pulled back inches from my face to watch my reaction. A hint of a smile sat in the corner of his mouth while a faint gasp escaped me.
My body squeezed around the balls, reveling in the way they massaged their way out until they plopped into Dean’s palm with a faint click as the metal balls collided.
I thrummed around the subtle emptiness until Dean gently plunged his middle fingers into me, causing my hips to rock forward.
“Better?” he whispered onto my lips.
“Almost.” I brought my hand between us and curled my fingers around the tip of his cock. When I began stroking down along his shaft, there was a soft thud nearby as he let the kegels drop to the floor.
His hands slid over the curve of my backside before he effortlessly scooped me up, spreading my legs around his waist so that the tip of his cock brushed against my entrance.
He could’ve slipped me onto him so easily, but decided to hold off until I was laying on my back, on the bed. He wasted no time giving us what we wanted.
As I sank into the covers, he sank into me with ease and a soft moan.
I needed this— I wanted it. More so than I ever had.
It excited and scared me all at once, fluttering my heart and stomach as goosebumps raised my skin where Dean’s lips traced my body.
Across my neck and shoulders, he took his time as he slowly rolled his hips against me.
But I needed more. More until every thrust had knocked every anxiety-filled thought from my brain.
When he brought his mouth to my breast, taking the lingerie fabric and my nipple between his teeth, a guttural moan left my body before I could stop myself.
Dean cupped a hand over my mouth, forcing me to finish the sound into his palm while my eyes rolled back.
“You have to be quiet,” he smirked down at me.
I nodded against his hand, which he replaced with his mouth as he started thrusting steadily.
A different sound suddenly filled the room; obnoxiously loud creaking, coming from the bed.
He paused, stopping short of filling me completely again.
“Shit,” he grunted.
I quickly looked around the room for an alternative, and then pointed at the windowsill seat. “There. Fuck me there, under the window.”
“Not the words I ever expected to come from your mouth, but alright.” He pulled up and got off the bed. His arm and back muscles rolled with the movements before he held out a hand to me.
His black hair was tousled messily, there was a playful gleam in his eyes, and his body…
My god.
In the darkness of the room, it was the moonlight pouring through the sheer curtain on the windows that outlined the edges of his body in a bluish hue.
I grinned, biting my lip, and placed my hand in his as if he were a gentleman offering me a hand from a cab. And like we weren’t about to participate in some debaucherous activity under the moonlight that bordered on pornographic and would leave my legs quaking by the end of the night.
I left my hand in his until I perched myself on the window seat and lay back, spreading my legs for him.
At the other end of the seat was a bath towel to be used by guests in the guestroom bathroom on the other side of the room.
Dean picked it up and motioned with his fingers for me to lift my hips.
I did so immediately, completely aware of the thoughts running through his mind.
It was written on his face too with a knowing smirk; We didn’t have a condom, and the pristine, cream cushion cover beneath me was potentially too expensive to rinse in the basin later.
Dean gripped the backs of my knees as he knelt one of his own on the seat.
When he brought himself closer, I angled my hips up until the tip of his cock pressed against me.
He shifted his hands to my hips, watching what he was doing before he pushed his hips forward.
Slowly at first, and then all at once, I was suddenly full again.
A quick gasp came out of me as my eyes wandered over his body. There was a muscle feathering in his lower abdomen as he began to move. Each of his strokes was purposefully slow and controlled.
With my hips raised off the seat, the night gown was jostled to my waist. For a second, my eyes caught on my scar, near white in the moonlight, and everything I hoped to forget quickly came rushing back in.
Dean changed the pace. Whether he noted the shift in my mood or not, he didn’t mention it and instead lifted one of my legs to his shoulder. The position opened my hips to pleasure that once again blinded those thoughts. And completely removed the filter between my brain and mouth.
I gripped the edge of the seat. “Yesss—”
Dean’s hand was over my mouth again as he chuckled breathlessly. “Quiet, remember?”
“M-m-m—Mhm.” A tingling took over my body, and I almost squealed.
That climax was coming in hard and fast. I was already dripping for it and fighting the urge to cry out as he hit the right spot every time.
As he moved his hand to my chin, a curious glaze washed over his eyes before he smoothed his fingertips along my bottom lip.
Through half closed eyes, I watched him and parted my lips enough for him to dip his fingers into my mouth. They slid over my tongue until his knuckles brushed my top lip. When his fingers parted, I curled my tongue between them.
It felt strange. I wasn’t used to being like this, but it somehow came instinctively. And I liked it.
With my eyes locked on his, I slowly dragged his fingers from my mouth.
His eyes flashed, my leg dropped from his shoulder, and he smashed his mouth to mine, keeping the same rhythm with his hips but thrusting so much firmer. It made my head spin.
He was grappling with control, trying not to lose it. I knew he could go harder if he wanted. Rougher than we had, but he was holding back.
I found myself curious about that kind of pain.
His breathy whimpers and devastatingly addictive moans were what finally brought it to a finish.
I bit my lip to keep quiet. In turn, I raised my hips to meet him before he pulled my legs around his waist.
“Right. There,” I gritted.
Dean posted his arms on either side of me. I gripped his biceps as my body arched. That familiar heady pleasure rushed south, and as he drove home the last of the steady rhythm, my body tensed and quivered.