Chapter 28 Regan
TWENTY-EIGHT
REGAN
I told him to kiss me. Am I losing my mind or just thinking with my vagina?
Damn, his lips are amazing, though. Yep, definitely thinking with my vagina.
He teases my lips with his tongue, begging for entrance.
I part them to let him in; I’m dying to fully taste him again.
Our tongues tangle together in what seems like a fight to the death, each wanting more from the other.
We pull apart so that we can catch our breaths, that desire back in those emerald green eyes. He wants me the same way that I want him. I know he only does hookups and one night stands, but I don’t care. All I want is him, here and now.
Though I’ve tried doing the hookup thing in the past, they never work out—mainly for me. I have a tendency to get attached. And with what my last actual boyfriend did, well, let’s just say it’s been a while for me.
But Dean is my rival. I’m not going to get attached or end up in a relationship with my rival, right?
My mind is swirling, if I should or shouldn’t do this.
Is it worth the risk of getting hurt? In a panic, as he’s coming back in for a kiss, I grab the popcorn bowl and dump it all over his head.
Kernels cover his brown hair and the pull-out around us.
Dean opens his mouth in shock at what I’ve just done.
Now more than just desire is shining in those emerald green eyes, this is a challenge. I just stoked a fire and I’m not sure if that was what I was intending to do or not. But with the way that Dean is staring at me…I think I wanted to stoke those flames, and let them burn.
“What—?” he says, still in shock.
“Oops.” I playfully shrug and feign innocence. A coy smile crawls across his face, and I know I’m in for it. Maybe that’s why I did it to begin with, so he will take control and get me out of my head.
“Oh, you are so dead,” he says, taking some popcorn from his lap and throwing it at me. I duck and roll away from him, but he’s too fast. Before I know it, he has me pinned down, both my wrists in one of his large hands above my head.
Fuck. The real life image of Dean above me is hotter than I thought it would be.
And I’ve imagined it too many times to count.
All second thoughts I was having are left behind as Dean holds me in place.
All I want to do is feel him on my skin, for him to make me fall apart with either his fingers or cock, I really don’t care which.
His lips crash back to mine, and all I want is to weave my fingers through his shaggy hair; it’s getting long, but in my current predicament, I’m unable to do so. I’m trying my best to wriggle free from his grip, but that only makes his grip tighten around my wrists.
“Say please, kitten, and I’ll let you go and touch me however you’d like,” he purrs, voice deep and husky.
I’m usually not one to beg in the bedroom, but fuck, I want to touch him. Need to touch him.
“Please, Dean, please let me touch you.” He lets me go and my hands instantly go into his hair, and I tug on the long strands. He lets out a moan that has my pussy dripping more for him than I thought possible, and he’s barely touched me.
His fingers start to play with the hem of my shirt, and he locks eyes with me, waiting for my permission. I nod, giving it to him, and he swiftly pulls the old shirt over my head, leaving me in my lacy bralette.
He scans my body, a look of concern that I wasn’t expecting. Then I remember the bruises that are starting to form from the crash today. He lightly traces over one across my hip where my harness jerked. I wince slightly and he pulls back. But I don’t want him to stop.
“I’m okay,” I assure him. He nods and continues what he was doing.
Wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me up to him so that we are chest to chest. His fingertips skitter across my back, setting fire to my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
As he palms my breasts over my bralette, I dip my head into the crook of his neck and nip at his skin.
This sets him off, and the moan he releases I can feel through the vibrations of his neck. It’s deep and full of need.
Quickly, he pushes me back down and crawls on top of me, spreading my legs as he crawls up my body between them.
I can feel his hard length, even through his jeans as he makes his way up my body.
If I can feel him through jeans, I wonder what he looks like bare, how he’ll feel inside me.
I shift under him at the thought, my nipples pebbling more, and he notices.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous. So eager and ready for me,” he muses.
My face turns hot at the compliment. No one I’ve ever been with has said anything like that before.
Honestly, none of them said much once we got to the actual sex part.
It was just grunts and some moans until they finished and maybe I did, if I was lucky.
This is something I’m not used to, but I would very much like it to be.
He kisses the flushed skin and goes down my neck, my breasts, pausing only for a moment to play with them, down my stomach, and stops at the waistband of my leggings.
We make eye contact as he gives a pleading look for me to allow him more access to my body.
I nod, giving him the okay to take them off.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulls them down and off my body, tossing them near where my shirt landed earlier.
Now, I’m in nothing but my bralette and panties.
His large hands grip around my thighs, pulling me closer toward him.
He pushes my legs as far apart as they will go, then with one hand, he grabs hold of my pussy, grinding the heel of his hand into the damp spot I know is there.
“So wet for me already,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to find out what you taste like.”
My breath hitches at that and he brings his head down between my thighs. I tense, waiting for him to touch me. I try to will myself to relax, but I’m unable to do so. This catches Dean’s attention, and he looks up at me.
“Did you want to stop?” The concern over my incoming bruises returns at my inability to relax. I want him here, to touch me, to taste me. I guess those shitty encounters did more to me than I realized.
“No. I don’t want to stop. It’s just…” How do I say this without sounding ridiculous? I’m wracking my brain for the right words when Dean pulls me back into reality.
“Hey,” he says gently. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. No judgement.”
No judgement? I’ve heard that before and been, well—judged. But there is something in his tone, something in those green eyes that says he’s telling the truth.
“I’ve never come during oral,” I blurt. The admission feels weird on my tongue.
I don’t think I’ve said that out loud before.
Dean’s eyes stay on me, his face giving nothing away, only that he’s willing to listen.
“The guys I’ve been with would tell me it’s taking too long and move onto the next thing.
So I just didn’t want you to be upset if I didn’t come. ”
“Regan, as long as you feel good, that’s what matters. Would I love it if you’d come on my face? Hell yeah. But if you don’t, that’s okay, too. I’ll keep going until you’re ready to move on. No pressure.”
His reassurance spreads through me like roots digging deep into the soil. Just knowing that he won’t get upset over this makes me relax even more.
“Okay. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. This is about you. And fuck those other guys who made you feel like shit about it. But I have a feeling I’ll be able to make you come no problem.”
“So fucking cocky,” I tease.
“You bet I am. Now, let me eat this pussy and make you forget every guy who’s ever touched you.”
He positions himself back between my thighs.
It feels like an eternity, watching as he pushes my panties to the side and uses his fingers to swirl around my sensitive bud.
I squirm under his touch, melting into him.
Then he brings his hot mouth down to my clit; licking, sucking, teasing, making me writhe in pleasure.
“Fuck, Dean.” He groans as I call out his name. A finger starts to tease my entrance, and I’m ready to feel him inside me.
“Damn, kitten,” he purrs. “So fucking tight. Do you think you can handle another?”
“Yes. More. I need more,” I beg, my voice a whimper. He adds another finger, stretching me out. “Fuck, that feels so good,” I moan.
He starts to pump his fingers in and out of my wet pussy as he returns his hot mouth onto my sex, swirling his tongue around my clit.
I want more, need more, and Dean listens to my body as he gives me what I need.
My fingers find their way into his hair, and I tug at the strands while pushing him further into my hot cunt and holding him in place.
I can feel my orgasm building. Dean must feel it, too, because he curls his fingers up inside me, hitting that sweet spot, and I fall apart.
My back arches, calling out his name, as my orgasm coats his face.
I’m still breathing heavily when he looks up at me, my release still on his chin, but he makes no moves to wipe it away. I sit up and kiss him, tasting myself on his lips, and no wonder he seems as blissed out as I am. I taste divine. Tangy and sweet all at the same time.
“Wow, that was…something else,” I say.
Dean just gives me an I told you so look.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him, but I don’t want to spoil the moment.
Instead, I do my best to stand, though my legs feel like Jello-O, and lead him into the back bedroom.
Despite being alone, he closes the door behind us, as if shutting out the world.
Right now, nothing else matters but the two of us.
There’s no championship, no Cup spot, no race.
Just the two of us wanting to give into our desires.
I grab a condom from the bedside table drawer and Dean quirks a brow.