Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
We barely make it inside the lighthouse in one piece.
Dylan has me shoved against the back door outside, hands raking up the side of my body and his mouth glued to mine.
We sigh into each other and break apart only for him to unlock the door with fumbling hands and bring us inside.
I stand in the main level and smile as I drop my cardigan on the ground and undo my jeans, letting them slide down my legs and fall to the floor.
Stepping out of them, I peel off my buttery-soft tank top and stand in front of him, bare-chested with only a thong on.
The look he gives me is ravenous as he lightly trails his index finger down the middle of my chest, between my breasts.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Lucy,” he says as he gazes up and down the length of my body, taking in all my imperfections and seeing them as beautiful.
He sees me for who I truly am and loves me for it.
For all the things money can’t change. My flaws and my faults.
His hands trace the curves of my waist and the lines on my upper thigh where my stretch marks live.
I can see how hard he is under his jeans, and all I want is to feel him inside me.
I want the stretch from his cock as it pushes deep into me.
Bending down, he takes my perked nipple in his teeth, offering a light pinch that causes the skin around it to tingle.
Flicking it with his tongue before moving on to the next one.
Then, getting on his knees, he grabs the waistband of my underwear and yanks it down in one rough movement.
Like he can’t bear the thought of clothing covering my skin anymore.
I lift one foot, then the other, and he tosses my thong across the room.
A laugh escapes me until his mouth finds my clit, and he sucks on it.
My knees want to buckle, but I manage to hold myself steady, spreading wide to give him even more access to me.
He groans as he swipes my sensitive skin with his tongue, fingertips pressing into my thighs hard enough to leave a mark.
Good. I hope he does. I want to permanently tattoo every place on my body that he’s touched.
Highlight every mark and bruise he makes so that I can always see them.
I want the world to know he’s mine and I’m his.
“I need you,” I plead, and in one swift motion, he’s back up to a stand, throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me up not one, but two flights of stairs to the third level, where his bedroom is. He tosses me on the bed and rips off his clothes until we’re both naked, facing each other.
I’m lying on my back, my head right in front of the headboard, and with a devilish look on his face, he plants himself on all fours at the end of the bed, slowly crawling toward me.
As he inches closer, he emits a low growl as I flick my nipples, loving the show and also impatient for him to get to me.
Once he climbs on top of me, I stroke his hard cock until he rubs it against my entrance, teasing me by pushing in just a little and then immediately pulling it right back out.
“Dylan,” I whine as he does it again, and I clench from how badly I want him all the way in.
His stare is pure sin as he growls, “Say, please,” and strokes himself, waiting.
“Please,” I beg, and his mouth pulls into a wicked grin before he finds my entrance once more and pushes into me all the way.
Quick. Filling me completely, my body stretching for him, trying to make room so he can fit.
I’m sweaty and aching, and it’s everything I could want. An addiction I never want to quit.
“That’s my girl,” he rasps as he pumps in and out of me, my back arching to take more. “You take my cock so well.”
His thumb finds my clit, and he watches himself touch me, my toes curling and arms grasping for something to hold on to as he draws those slow, languid circles I love so much.
I feel my orgasm building for a second time tonight, even stronger than earlier.
It builds fast, like someone lit a match to paper.
From a slow burn to bursting heat and flames, it erupts, and I scream his name while it pours out of me.
Dylan keeps his hold on me and then starts to grunt and writhe as he finishes too.
We stay there, him on top of me, arms wrapped around my waist, kissing for who knows how long.
We might even doze off, because when I come to, he’s lying beside me, both of us above the covers, and the light from the stars and the moon casting a pale yellow glow on his face.
He looks peaceful as his chest moves up and down with each calm breath he takes.
I bite my nails as I stare, thinking how lucky I am to be loved by someone like him.
I head to the bathroom to clean up, and when I climb back into bed, I manage to slip us both under the thick, warm comforter.
I nestle into him, and he instinctively wraps his arms around me, still fast asleep.
If he’s the lighthouse, then I’m the ship that’s called to him, his light beam pulling me in.
I never stood a chance out in the open ocean.
Not when Dylan Hart was here waiting for me.
My brain wants to formulate a plan to deal with the fateful day we both know is coming, but I revel in the feel and scent of him, while the rhythm of his steady breaths lulls me back into a deep sleep.
A sleep without dreams, and for that, I’m thankful.