Chapter 18
Eighteen
CLOVER
The sunbed frame squeals as Dean grips my wrists, pinning them to the cushion over my head—a sharp, metallic sound that’s swallowed by our groans of relief as he kisses me hard.
He’s so big that when he’s on top that I can’t see anything but him.
He’s the ceiling, the sky, and I am exactly where I’ve been dying to be for what feels like forever. I’m under him, and he’s hard between my thighs, his cock pulsing against me through his sweatpants, and soon, all this terrible distance will be over.
Soon, he’ll be inside me.
As far as I’m concerned, it can’t be soon enough…
“Inside me,” I beg, straining against his hold on my arms, desperate to reach down and free that thick cock I’ve been jonesing for like an addict for a fix. “Inside me now. Please.”
“Don’t rush me, woman.” But he releases my arms as he adds, “I need to taste your nipples before I fuck you.”
I rake my nails up his back, beneath his sweatshirt, savoring the ripple of muscle as I hum my approval of this plan. “I like your dirty mouth.”
“I like yours, too,” he says, smiling against my lips before kissing his way down my neck.
His stubble grazes the top of my chest, then the side of my breast, a delicious friction that makes me shiver with anticipation.
Then, his mouth is on me, and damn… His tongue is hot, rough against my already aching, sensitized skin, even before he takes half my breast into his mouth and sucks hard enough to make me bow off the dusty cushion.
I cry out in surprise, my fingers fisting in his hair.
I’ve never had someone take so much of me, but God…I like it. I more than like it. In seconds, I’m even wetter, my panties soaked, and my pussy so swollen it hurts. It hurts, this pleasure he’s giving me like both our lives depend on it, but it’s a good hurt.
A beautiful hurt.
A hurt I know I’m going to crave for the rest of my life.
It’s a scary thought, but I can’t stay with any thought for too long, not when his mouth is on me. He’s relentless, sucking and biting at my breasts, my nipples, sometimes both at the same time, until I’m squirming under him, my hips bucking into his thigh in a primitive quest for relief.
“Dean,” I choke out, my voice jagged. “Please, you’re driving me insane.”
“Don’t worry, beautiful,” he says, his voice a low vibration that hums through my bones. “I’m going to take care of you.”
He kisses his way south, his lips tracking a path down the center of my rib cage. He lingers at the dip of my navel, making my stomach muscles coil and jump, every exhalation as he drags my bottoms lower—down my hips, over my pubic bone—a wicked tease.
No, not a tease, a promise.
I already know Dean isn’t going to leave me hanging this time. He’s a man who aims to please, at least as far as I’ve experienced. He’s already shattered me twice with his hands, leaving me so boneless, even my good leg was at serious risk of collapse.
I’m almost afraid of what his mouth is about to do to me…
“Oh God,” I groan, my head falling back as he flicks his tongue down and in, a swift lick between the top of my swollen lips, dipping just far enough to brush my clit ever so lightly.
He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my pajama pants, yanking them and my panties the rest of the way down in one impatient motion.
He drags them over the loafers I threw on to come downstairs, pulling them off, too, as he tosses everything into the corner by the mower, clearing obstacles with a focused intensity that’s sexy as hell.
The cold air hits where I’m hot and wet, but I’m so turned on, the chill is a relief. I’m burning up, trembling with a fever that’s all his fault. Only Dean could make me burn like this, and only Dean can take away the pain.
He moves between my knees, his shoulders broad and perfect as he slides his palms up the insides of my legs. His grip is firm and sure, his thumbs digging into the softest part of my inner thighs with a possessive pressure that makes me even more eager, more desperate.
I arch my back, my heels digging into the cushion beneath me as he leans in, closing the distance between us.
His breath hits first, then his tongue, and God.
Fuck.
Shit.
Damn, his tongue does not disappoint.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” I hear myself chanting as the world falls away.
There is no shed, no girls asleep in the house, no innocent friend waiting upstairs, probably wondering why it’s taking me so long to feed a crow a strawberry and get back to my laptop.
There’s only the rhythmic, devastating sweetness of Dean’s tongue.
I wasn’t kidding when I said I loved his dirty mouth, but I love his sweetness, too. I love how much he clearly wants to please, to pleasure. How devoted he is to making sure I get there first and often.
Hell, we haven’t even had sex yet, not really, and he’s already made me come more than my last boyfriend did until our fourth weekend at my place, when I sat him down and helped him have a “come to Jeebus” moment about the effort it actually takes to make a woman come.
I explained that it isn’t always easy or predictable, especially not at first.
It’s something I believed to be true when I said it, but now…
Well, Dean doesn’t seem to have any trouble setting me off. He seems to know exactly where I need him, how I need him, and he’s relentless about delivering me right into the flames.
Into the whitest, hottest part…
I cry his name as the orgasm crashes over me, a violent, shuddering release that has me writhing, tossing my head back and forth on the dusty cushion as he continues to curl his tongue deep inside me, while his thumbs…
Oh, God…
What the hell is he doing with his thumbs?
One of them is suddenly buried deep in my pulsing core, stroking in and out with a swift, steady pressure that already has another coil tightening between my hips, while the other smooths the slickness from my pussy back.
Back, back…until he’s circling my other hole.
Then, before I can gasp out that I don’t do butt stuff, I’m doing butt stuff.
Or rather, Dean is doing butt stuff to me, and no sooner has my lizard brain declared that the feel of his thumbs both stroking inside me while he tongues my clit is the best thing that’s ever happened to anyone, I’m coming again.
And hell, this one is messy. I’m messy. I’m shredded and wasted and pulled apart by the pleasure, but still so unsatisfied.
Still so needy for the only thing that can truly take the razor sting off this edge.
“You. Please.” I reach down, my fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him up. “I need you. Inside. Now. Please, now. Before I fall apart.”
“You’re sure?” he rasps out, his breath coming nearly as fast as mine.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I chant, pulse spiking and head spinning as he finally pulls back, rising onto his knees in the dark.
He shifts into the moonlight seeping through the window as he moves, giving me a better look at his face as he gazes down at me.
The hunger in his eyes is so intense, so perfect that for a moment I can barely breathe.
Then, he reaches for the waistband of his sweatpants, shoving them and his boxers down his thighs in one fluid motion, baring his cock, and breathing is no longer possible.
I am breathless.
Shooketh to my core by the sexiness of him.
Holy hell, he’s even more beautiful than I remembered.
But I only got a brief glimpse of his cock the other day in the hallway, not nearly long enough to soak in the magnificence of all that thick, throbbing need.
That want that’s all for me, because this gorgeous man is every bit as hot for me as I am for him.
The wild wonderfulness of it hits again, making my head spin as he moves back over me, whispering, “Breathe, Clover.”
My breath rushes out with a soft laugh. “Sorry. I just…” I moan, flinching as his erection brushes over my already come-sensitive clit. “I just can’t believe… I can’t…” I trail off, unable to finish the sentence as he urges my legs around his waist and reaches down, gripping the base of his cock.
Oh God, oh wow, here we go.
This is about to happen.
Now. Right now.
“You can’t believe what, beautiful?” he asks as he lightly, torturously rubs the head of his cock around and around my clit, easing me slowly back into another climb.
“I can’t…” I start, only to trail off again as he moves himself down, capturing some of my wetness on his head before moving back to my clit.
I can’t believe you’re still in control, I think.
I can’t believe you’re still worried about making sure I’m ready.
I can’t believe a man is worshipping me in bed like this, like I’ve always wanted to be worshipped. And that the man is you. Dean Kate.
The sexiest man I’ve ever met.
The best man I’ve ever met.
The man I’m falling for so fast, it’s terrifying.
But I can’t say any of that.
I can’t. I’m not ready, not even close.
Finally, I wheeze out, “I can’t believe you’re not inside me yet. Please, Dean, I need you. Please I—”
I break off, head falling back again with a gasp as he finally shifts his position and starts to breach my entrance, only for the gasp to become a groan as he stops barely an inch inside.
“Look at me, Clover,” he whispers. “Look at me while I fuck you for the first time, baby. I want to remember. I need to remember…”
I open my eyes, gaze locking with his with a force that reverberates through my chest, making my heart ache as his lips curve into a shaky smile.
“There you are,” he says as he slides deeper, filling me and filling me, as I gasp and force myself not to look away.
It’s so intimate, so close, so much more intense than any sex I’ve had before that it’s a little scary.
But it’s also…beautiful. He’s so big it’s almost too much, but it’s not.
It’s perfect, a soul-deep stretch, a blissful pressure that realigns my entire definition of what it means to be full of a man.
I have never been this full.
And I have never been with a man, not one like this.