Chapter 11 - Quinn #2
"You sure about this?" he asks, searching my face. "We're not using protection. I didn't plan for this, didn't think—"
"I'm sure." I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I can't get pregnant, remember? And I'm clean. Got tested after my last relationship ended."
"I'm clean too. I haven't been with anyone since Kate." His hand slides down my body, hooks into my panties. "But Quinn, this is… If we do this, it means something. To me, it means something."
"Good," I tell him. "Because it means something to me too."
He pulls my panties to the side rather than taking them off completely, and then he's rubbing the tip of his cock against my entrance, and it feels so fucking good I could come from just this.
"You're soaked," Dean says, awed. "Absolutely dripping for me."
"I told you. I've been wet all day thinking about this."
He pushes in just the tip and we both groan. Even just that much is a stretch. He's so thick, thicker than anyone I've been with before.
"Please," I hear myself say, desperate and needy. "Just put it inside. I need to be filled, Dean. Need you so badly."
Then embarrassment floods through me and I add quickly: "I'm not very tight. Just so you know. I… Men have complained before, said I'm too loose, and I know that's not—"
"Stop." Dean's voice is firm, commanding.
He cups my face with one hand, forcing me to look at him.
"I don't care about any of that. I don't care what other men said or thought or complained about.
I just want us to be one. Want to feel you around me.
Want to make you feel so good you forget every man who came before me. "
"Dean—"
He pushes in another inch and my back arches off the bed. "You feel perfect. Absolutely perfect. You understand me?"
I nod, unable to form words.
"Say it. Say you feel perfect."
"I feel perfect," I whisper.
"That's right." He pushes in further, feeding me his cock inch by inch. "You're perfect for me. This pussy was made for my cock. Look how well you're taking me."
I look down between our bodies and watch his thick shaft disappearing into me, stretching me wide, filling me so completely I can barely breathe.
"Oh my god," I gasp. "Dean, you're so—fuck—so big—"
He bottoms out and we both freeze, breathing hard. I've never felt this full before. Never been stretched this wide. His cock is pressing against places I didn't even know existed.
"You okay?" Dean asks, voice strained with the effort of holding still.
"Better than okay." I clench around him and he groans. "I've never… No one's ever filled me like this. I didn't know it could feel like this."
Something fierce and possessive crosses his face. "No one's ever made you feel this way?"
"Never."
"Good." He pulls back slowly until just the tip remains, then slams back in hard enough to make me cry out. "Because this pussy is mine now. You're mine, Quinn. Say it."
"I'm yours," I gasp as he starts to thrust in earnest. "Fuck, Dean, I'm yours."
He sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against mine, each thrust driving deeper than the last. The bed frame creaks but neither of us cares. My hands scrabble at his back, nails digging into muscle, probably leaving marks.
"That's it," Dean pants. "Take my cock. Take everything I'm giving you."
Beads of sweat form on his forehead and start dripping down onto my face, my neck, my chest where my breasts bounce with each thrust. I reach up and unhook my bra with shaking hands, toss it aside, and immediately grab my own breasts, squeezing them, pinching my nipples.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful," Dean says, eyes locked on my hands. "Play with your tits while I fuck you. Show me how good it feels."
I comply, rolling my nipples between my fingers, moaning at the dual sensation of his cock pounding into me and my own hands on my breasts.
"Harder," I beg. "Please, Dean, fuck me harder."
He complies immediately, shifting the angle of his hips to drive even deeper.
"Right there!" I cry out, too loud, definitely too loud, but I can't help it. "Oh god, right there, don't stop—"
"Never stopping," Dean promises. "Going to fuck you until you can't remember anyone else, until the only name you know is mine."
His hand comes up to cover my mouth, muffling my cries. "Quiet, baby. Don't want to wake Mariah. Can you be quiet for me while I pound this perfect pussy?"
I nod frantically, biting my lip, trying to stifle the sounds pouring out of me.
"Good girl," Dean praises, and the words send another spike of arousal through me. "Such a good girl, taking my cock so well, letting me use this body however I want."
He pounds into me relentlessly, each thrust making my whole body shake. I'm so wet I can hear it: slick sounds filling the room along with our harsh breathing and the creaking of the bed.
"Turn over," Dean says suddenly, pulling out. "On your hands and knees. I need to see that ass arched again."
I scramble to obey, flipping onto my stomach then up onto my hands and knees, back arched the way I know makes my ass look incredible. My panties are still pulled to the side, soaked through and clinging to my skin.
"Fuck," Dean breathes behind me. "Look at you. So fucking perfect."
His hands grip my hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, and then he's lining himself up and sliding back inside. I drop down to my elbows, pressing my face into the mattress to muffle my moans.
"That's it," Dean grunts, starting to move. "Take it. Take every fucking inch."
He fucks me hard and fast, no gentleness now, just raw need and possession. One hand slides up my back, pushing between my shoulder blades, forcing my chest down to the mattress while my ass stays up.
The new position changes everything. He's so deep now I swear I can feel him in my stomach, feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he drives into me over and over.
"You're so tight like this," Dean says, voice rough with pleasure. "Squeezing my cock so good. You like being fucked from behind, baby? Like me using you like this?"
"Yes!" I sob into the mattress. "God yes, I love it, love feeling you so deep—"
His other hand comes down on my ass in a sharp smack that makes me jolt and clench around him. "Quiet," he reminds me, but there's amusement in his voice.
He spanks me again, harder this time, and I bite the sheets to keep from screaming. The sting mixes with the pleasure until I can't tell them apart, everything blending into an overwhelming sensation.
"You're taking me so well," Dean says, breathless now, rhythm starting to falter. "Better than I ever imagined. Better than my fantasies."
"You fantasized about this?" I manage between gasps.
"Since the moment you showed up on my porch." Another hard thrust. "Wanted to bend you over the kitchen counter this morning. Wanted to fuck you against the wall. Wanted to make you mine in every way possible."
"I'm yours," I remind him. "Already yours, Dean. Take what's yours."
He groans and his pace becomes brutal, animalistic, both hands gripping my hips so hard I know I'll have fingerprint bruises tomorrow. I'm moaning continuously now into the mattress, past caring about noise, about anything except the feeling of him claiming me.
"I'm close," Dean warns, voice strained. "Fuck, Quinn, I'm so close—"
"Come inside me," I beg. "Please, Dean. Fill me up. Want to feel you come, want to feel your cum dripping out of me!"
"Fuck…" He slams into me one final time, burying himself as deep as he can go, and I feel him pulse inside me.
The sensation of his cock throbbing, of his release flooding me hot and thick, triggers my own orgasm. I clench around him hard, my whole body shaking, pleasure crashing through me in waves so intense my whole body writhes and arches off the bed.
"Dean!" I cry out, muffled by the mattress. "Oh god, Dean—"
He grinds into me as we both ride it out, his hips making small circles that prolong the pleasure, milk every last bit of sensation from both of us. I can feel his cum inside me, so much of it, coating my walls, claiming me from the inside out.
Finally, we both go limp. Dean collapses against my back, both of us breathing hard, hearts pounding, still connected. His lips find the space between my shoulder blades, pressing gentle kisses there that contrast sharply with the violence of what we just did.
"That was fucking great" he starts.
"Yeah," I agree. "Yeah, it really was."
Eventually, he pulls out and I feel his cum immediately start to leak out of me, dripping down my thighs. Dean makes a satisfied sound at the sight.
"Fuck, that's hot," he murmurs. "Seeing my cum dripping out of you. Knowing I claimed you."
I should probably go clean up, should probably think about the implications of everything that just happened. But Dean helps me roll over and pulls me against his chest, wraps his arms around me like he's never letting go.
"Let me stay here tonight," he whispers into my hair. "Don't go back to sleeping alone."
"Okay," I whisper back, already half-asleep, utterly wrecked in the best possible way.