Chapter 26 Sloane #2
He smirks, hooks his thumbs in the waistband, and shoves them down. They snag on his thighs before he kicks them free, then drops back over me, skin to skin now except for the thin cotton of my borrowed T-shirt. His cock nudges hot against my hip, and I shift, letting him settle between my thighs.
“Better?” he murmurs, mouth on my collarbone, teeth scraping.
“Getting there.” I fist the hem of my shirt and yank it up. He helps me tug it over my head, and his hand slides up my side, thumb brushing the underside of my breast, teasing, not quite touching where I want him to.
“I just need to hear you actually say it,” he says as he peppers my skin with kisses. “Tell me you’re staying.”
I hook a leg around his waist, pull him closer. “Make me believe it’s home, Dane.”
He groans and his lips cover mine in a heated kiss as he palms my breast and squeezes. “Gonna take my time, Sloane. I want to ruin you for anyone else."
I laugh breathlessly and nip his bottom lip. “Promises, promises.”
Dane’s mouth curves against my throat, a wicked promise in the scrape of his beard.
“Ruining you starts now," he says, then he shifts lower, hands sliding to my hips, thumbs hooking the lace edge of my panties.
I lift just enough for him to drag them down.
Cool air kisses my skin, and I shiver, but his palms are already there, warming me, spreading me open.
“Up,” he orders, voice rough. “On your knees.”
I push up on my elbows, watching him lie back against the pillows with dark and hungry eyes. He pats his chest. “Here. Sit.”
My pulse spikes. “Dane—”
“Scared you’ll like it too much?” His grin is wicked and filthy. “Come on, sweetheart. Let me taste what I’m keeping.”
Heat floods me as I crawl forward, knees bracketing his ribs, then higher. His hands guide my hips, steadying me as I hover over his mouth. The first flick of his tongue is soft and teasing, and I gasp and grip the headboard as my hips start pumping involuntarily.
“Fuck, Dane…”
He hums and the vibration makes me clench, and when he pulls me down fully, there's no more teasing. His tongue slides through my folds along my slit like he’s tasting every inch.
I rock against him, shamelessly chasing the pressure of his mouth.
His hands grip my ass, urging me faster, and when he sucks my clit between his lips, I whimper into the darkness.
“God, your pussy is drenched,” he growls against me. “Stay right here. Don’t you dare move. I want every drop of you.”
I couldn’t if I wanted to. My thighs tremble and pleasure coils tighter inside my core. He licks me harder and sucks relentlessly until I’m grinding down, desperate for the friction I crave.
“Stay,” he says again as I start to rise. “Stay and come on my tongue, Sloane. Let me feel it.”
Dane's words are too hot, so arousing they push buttons in my mind only he can touch, and I shatter, back arching. His hands are the only thing keeping me from collapsing and he doesn’t stop—laps me through it greedily, until I’m shaking and boneless.
Only then does he ease me down, pressing a soft kiss to my inner thigh before nipping at my skin. “Still need convincing?” he murmurs as my pussy drags over his chest, leaving a trail of moisture that's still there as my hips settle on his and his cock drags through my folds.
I laugh, breathless. “Keep going, Barrett. I’m a tough sell.”
Dane’s arms band around my waist, rolling us until I’m beneath him again. His weight is a delicious cage my body doesn't mind being trapped in. My legs wrap his hips on instinct. He’s hard, slick with my moisture and pressing against my entrance but not pushing in.
“Eyes on me,” he growls, and I force them open. His pupils are blown wide, the light from outside carving sharp lines across his face. “Please, put me out of my misery and just say it plainly."
“I’m staying,” I whisper, and he groans like I’ve punched him, forehead dropping to mine.
“Fuck, Sloane.” Then he’s kissing me, deep and filthy, letting me taste myself on his tongue. I claw at his back and pull my legs up until my heels pull at his ass, encouraging him to slide into me.
He reaches between us, lines up, and sinks in slow—one thick inch at a time. I’m still fluttering from the first orgasm and already preparing for him to do it again.
“Fuck, you feel incredible… And I want to do this five times a day, every day, from now on." I clench around him and he curses, hips jerking.
“Move,” I beg. “Please.”
He does, long, deliberate strokes that drag over every sensitive spot inside me. The headboard taps the wall and I rake nails down his spine; he answers by hitching my knee higher, driving deeper.
“Touch yourself,” he growls. “I want to feel you come around me.”
My hand slips between us, fingers circling my clit. The pressure coils again, faster this time, fueled by the slick drag of him, the way his breath stutters every time I squeeze. His thrusts turn harder, less controlled and his hands grip my legs as he folds me in half and drives in deeper.
“Look at me when you go,” he says, voice cracking.
The second our eyes lock, I break, pleasure crashing over me in tight, hot pulses as I twitch around his cock.
He swallows my cry with a kiss, hips snapping several times, then burying deep as he comes with a broken groan, spilling heat inside me.
My body continues to jolt and twitch as he glides in and out of me a few more times, and as I come down, he sucks my neck, leaving a love bite I'm sure everyone will see tomorrow.
We stay tangled, trembling, and he doesn’t pull out. I’m tucked against his chest, his heartbeat thundering under my ear and he palms the side of my hip as I try to catch my breath.
“Are you convinced?” he murmurs into my hair.
I press a kiss over his heart. “Signed the lease in my head already.”
Dane stays quiet after that, holding me so tightly I may never get free, and I find I don't want to.
When his breathing steadies and his dick goes soft and slides out of me, I cover our bodies with the blanket and turn my back to his chest. His arms come around me again as if we never separated, and I finally know what home feels like.
It's not the location you live in or the type of dwelling where you reside.
It's not the people around you or the stability of knowing you have a shelter and provision.
Home is knowing someone sees the darkest parts of you and doesn't turn away.
It's feeling acceptance in spite of all the things you hate about yourself, and it's knowing the feeling is mutual between you and the person you love.
And I am at home in Dane Barrett’s arms.
I just hope he sticks around long enough for me to tell him that. Because I don't like the idea of living without him anymore.