Chapter 29 False God
False God
Dylan
He feels her— her warmth, her softness, the way she melts against him. Every inch of her is a perfect fit. His heart races in his chest as the desire for her consumes him, the world outside them fading into nothing.
God, she feels so good.
His hands slip from her waist to her back, pulling her even closer, his body aching for more. Her skin is warm against his, and as their kiss deepens, Dylan can’t help but groan against her mouth, tasting the sweetness of her and the heat that builds between them.
“Ali,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need. He pulls back just enough to look at her, his hands trailing down her sides, savoring every curve, every inch of her. “You’re perfect, you know that?”
Her breath catches, her chest rising and falling with each shaky inhale. She’s beautiful— so beautiful— and Dylan’s mind goes blank, focusing only on the woman in front of him, the way she makes him feel, the way she’s breaking down every wall he’s built around himself. He can’t get enough of her.
He slides his hands to the curve of her hips, his fingers tightening as he lifts her slightly, bringing her closer. Her lips part in a soft gasp, her eyes flicking up to meet his, full of trust and longing.
“Tell me, Ali,” he says, his voice low and rough, the hunger for her undeniable. “Tell me what you want.”
Her eyes darken, her hands moving down to his chest, trailing down his abs to the waistband of his jeans, pulling his shirt over his head. “I want you. All of you. Right now.”
Fuck.
Before he can even register what she’s doing, she’s already tugging the towel from her body, leaving herself completely exposed.
Dylan’s breath hitches, and without a second thought, he stands up, his hands moving quickly to strip off his jeans and boxers, letting them fall to the floor in a rush. Then he pauses.
Fuck, I took her without a condom the other night. What the hell was I thinking?
He moves quickly, grabbing a condom from his bag. As he walks back to the bed, his stomach tight with guilt, Ali’s calm voice stops him.
“I’m on birth control, Dylan,” she says, her eyes meeting his. “For the PCOS. Just like in college. We’re safe if you don’t want to use it.”
He releases a breath, heart pounding with anticipation. He just takes a moment to look at her. She’s breathtaking— her skin glowing, her body soft and perfect in every way.
Without hesitation, he lays back on the bed, pulling her gently with him, guiding her on top of him.
He can feel the heat radiating from her, the slight tremble in her body.
He watches her, his hands brushing her hair out of her face as she hovers above him, the anticipation making his chest tighten.
Dylan watches, his breath caught in his throat as she lowers herself onto him, her body trembling with nervousness and hesitation.
He can feel the tightness of her, the way she pauses, taking him in slowly, adjusting.
His hands find her hips, helping guide her down as she inches closer, her eyes flicking up to meet his for a moment of reassurance.
Then, as her body sinks fully onto him, the feeling of her tightness takes him over, her movements slow but greedy, like she can’t get enough.
The way she moves— desperate but controlled— drives him wild, his hands tightening on her hips as he feels every inch of her.
She’s perfect, and he can’t get enough of the way she’s taking him.
“You’re perfect,” Dylan whispers, his voice low, husky with need. “Everything about you. Your pussy, baby, it’s made for me. Made for me.”
Ali’s breath hitches, her body shuddering at the words. Dylan smirks, feeling her reaction inside her, his own body reacting to how tight and warm she feels around him.
“I can feel it,” he growls, his hands moving to her hips, pulling her down onto him with more force, making her gasp.
“Every time you move, I can feel your pussy tightening around me. When I talk to you like that, I feel you clench. You love it, don’t you?
You love hearing me talk to you like that. ”
The words hit her like a wave, and for a brief moment, she just stares at him.
Her body shifts against him, her pulse quickening, her breath catching as she finally exhales, her hands gripping his chest for support.
She looks down at him, her voice a little shaky, full of both embarrassment and undeniable desire.
Ali’s breath hitches, her face flushing a deep red as she lifts her head to look at him. Her voice is small, unsure, a little embarrassed. “I… I do. But I don’t know… it feels so… filthy.”
Dylan’s hands grip her waist, his thumbs brushing over her skin as he pulls her closer, urging her to relax into it.
“Don’t be embarrassed, baby,” he says, his voice low and soothing, even as desire sharpens it.
“You feel it, I can see it. Don’t hide from it.
Tell me what you feel. Tell me what you want. ”
“It feels so good, Dylan,” she whispers, her hips moving instinctively against him. “Better than my fingers… so much better. So fucking good. I… I need more.”
Dylan’s breath hitches at her words, his body tightening with desire.
He knows exactly what she’s asking for, and he’s more than willing to give it to her.
Without hesitation, he flips them gently, guiding her onto her back with a soft but firm grip.
His hands move to her legs, pulling one up around his waist, his cock already straining with need as he shifts between her thighs, ready to slide deeper.
She moans softly, her eyes locking onto his as he begins to move inside her, the heat of her tightening around him.
He slides in slowly, letting her feel every inch, the stretch of her walls surrounding him, squeezing him.
His body burns, but he holds back, letting her adjust to him, feeling her tightness clench as she tries to take more.
He stops, his breath coming in sharp gasps, feeling her so perfectly wrapped around him. He hangs on by a thread, fighting the urge to push deeper as she shifts beneath him, her body reacting to every movement. He waits, giving her time, knowing how much she wants him, how badly she needs this.
“Tell me when you’re ready,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire, his hands gently stroking her skin as he waits for her to give him the signal to move again.
Ali’s breath is ragged, her eyes locked onto his as her hands move to his chest, her nails scraping lightly over his skin. She smirks, a glint of raw desire in her gaze.
“Stop holding back, Dylan,” she growls, her voice low and filled with urgency. “I’m not going to break. Fuck me. I want you— all of you.”
The words hit him like a jolt of electricity. She’s not holding back anymore, and neither is he. Dylan leans down, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips as he moves his hips, driving deeper into her, the feel of her tightness almost too much to bear.
Ali moans into the kiss, her legs tightening around his waist, urging him to go faster. “God, yes,” she whispers against his mouth, “fuck me harder, Dylan.”
The command in her voice is too much for him to resist. Dylan moves faster, his hands gripping her hips as he pushes deeper, hearing the way she cries out in pleasure with every thrust. The sound of her words, her filthy encouragement, sends him spiraling.
“You’re so fucking perfect, Ali,” he groans, his voice rough, each thrust harder than the last. “Your pussy feels so fucking good on my cock. Like a goddam wet dream come to life.”
Ali’s body trembles beneath him, her nails digging into his back as she moves to meet him, desperate for more. “Yes, Dylan. You’re the only one who makes me feel this good. Take me. Make me yours.”
The filthy words, the rawness between them, drives him insane. Dylan pushes himself harder into her, feeling her walls tighten around him with each stroke. “God, Ali,” he growls, “You’re so fucking filthy. And I love it.”
Dylan’s hands grip her… one in her damp hair & one clenching her thigh tightly, as he watches her struggle to hold back, her breath hitching with every thrust. He can feel the tension building in her, her body trembling beneath him, but he needs her to let go.
“Come on, baby,” he growls, his voice low and commanding, the urgency in his words adding to the raw heat between them. “I know you’re holding back, but I need you to come for me. Right fucking now.”
Ali’s eyes meet his, her face flushed with desire, her lips parting as her hands dig into his shoulders. She’s close, he can feel it, and he’s not going to let her hold back any longer. “I don’t want it to stop Dylan. It’s so good.”
“Don’t you dare hold back, Ali,” he commands, his voice rough with need. “Let go for me. I want to feel you come around me, feel your pussy tighten as you fall apart. I want to hear those sweet cries I’ve missed so damn much.”
Her body shudders, her hands clutching at him desperately as she finally lets go, the sound of his name filling the air as her orgasm crashes over her. Her walls tighten around him, pulling him deeper as she comes, and Dylan can’t hold back anymore.
“Fuck yes,” he groans, his own release following quickly as he moves harder, deeper, feeling the way she wraps around him, her body completely undone. “That’s it, baby. You’re so fucking good Ali.”
Dylan pulled out of her slowly, feeling the loss of her warmth, but he doesn’t go far.
His chest rises and falls with a deep breath, the weight of the moment still pressing on him.
He moves quickly, pulling the covers back, a protective instinct rising in him.
Without a word, he gently guides Ali into his arms, wrapping her tightly in the sheets as he pulls her close.
Ali rests her head against his chest, and he feels the slight tremor in her body as she melts into him.
Her breathing is slow, but uneven, and he knows it’s because she’s still processing everything.
He runs a hand through her hair, his thumb brushing softly over her cheek as he holds her, his body instinctively shielding her from any vulnerability she might feel.
“God, you were so good,” he whispers into her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “So perfect, Ali.”
Her body relaxes further against him, her fingers curling into the fabric of the sheet, and for a moment, it’s just the quiet sound of their breathing. Dylan holds her, not wanting to let go, the weight of everything they’ve shared hanging between them like a quiet promise.
They lie like that for a few moments— quiet, content, still tangled in each other— until suddenly, Ali shifts slightly, and her eyes flutter open.
“So what did you grill for us?” she asks, her voice a little hoarse but playful, a soft smile pulling at the corner of her lips.
Dylan laughs softly, the sound full of warmth and affection. He leans down, kissing her forehead gently. “You’re worried about dinner right now?”
Ali looks up at him, her expression teasing. “What? I’m hungry.”
Dylan chuckles again, his heart swelling with the ease of their connection. “I’ll make you whatever you want, baby.”