Chapter 28 Regan #2
“What? A girl needs to be prepared.” He just smiles and shakes his head as I wrap my arms around his neck. I love how his body feels pressed up against mine, and he still has all of his clothes on.
With that thought, I tug at the hem of his shirt, indicating I want him to take it off—now.
In one swift movement, he yanks it over his head to reveal his toned upper body to me.
I caught a glimpse of him last night as he changed his wet shirt, but up close and personal has me drooling over him.
His muscles seem to have muscles. I knew he was fit, but damn.
I run my hands along the ripples of his sculpted abs, taking them in.
He flexes under my touch, like he’s restraining himself, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.
God, I want him to pounce. I want to feel him on top of me again, pushing me down into the mattress and taking me as his.
Even if it’s just this one time.
I unbutton his jeans and slip my hands into the waistband to pull them down along with his boxer briefs. I grab a handful of his perfect ass along the way and allow his erection to spring free.
When I see what he’s working with, I’m not prepared for it.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but he’s working with a lot more than what I’ve ever experienced before.
I don’t know how long I’m staring for, but I can’t take my eyes away from him.
I’m both equally excited and nervous; he very well may split me in half.
A low chuckle pulls me from my thoughts of his cock.
“Like what you see, kitten?” he asks with a cocky grin. He’s long and girthy. I didn’t think dicks like this existed outside of romance books, but yet, here I am staring at it, live in the flesh.
I finally regain control of myself to reach down to finally touch him, gripping him at the base and pumping up to the tip, swiping a bit of precum on the way.
I stroke up and down with long languid strokes, teasing the tip of his length each time I come back up.
He moans as I continue to stroke him. Each time he makes a noise of pleasure, I make sure to remember the motion and repeat it.
He’s getting even harder in my hand, so I know I’m bringing him closer to the edge, but I can’t help but want to give him the same pleasure he gave me.
He stops me and I stare up at him. “If you keep doing that,” he says between panted breaths, “I’m not going to last much longer.
” I huff out a small laugh, proud of myself for bringing him to that edge with just my hands.
Then I stare back down at his length, wondering how this will work logistically.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle,” he says as if he’s reading my thoughts.
Taking the condom I had placed on the bed, he rolls it onto himself.
He removes my bralette and panties so now I am bare to him.
I almost want to cover myself, but the way he’s looking at me with so much heat in his gaze almost sets my skin on fire.
His mouth comes straight for my perked nipples. The warmth of his breath on my flesh prickles my skin, and a shudder runs down my spine. He walks us to the bed, pressing my back into the mattress, our naked bodies pressed against each other, his hands on either side of my head, caging me in.
He hesitates only slightly as concern again washes over his features. I’m not sure if it’s concern over hurting me with my already bruised body from my accident earlier today, or if it’s something else entirely.
“You still want to do this?” he asks.
“Dixon, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to finish Bridgerton without you,” I warn.
He grins, seemingly thankful for the reassurance. “You’ve seen it already.”
“The newest season just dropped, and I’ll watch it without you,” I taunt.
His eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would.”
He aggressively and without warning grabs my face with one hand and kisses me, hard, in a dominant way that I didn’t know I would like until this very moment. That’s a new thing I didn’t know about myself.
“You watch without me, I’ll have to punish you.”
As much as being punished by this man sounds just as fun as what we are about to do, I’m not sure how much longer I can wait for him to be inside me. So I say, “Then do it, Dixon.” Using the taunt of his last name sends a flare of excitement through his emerald eyes.
Bringing himself at my entrance, he rubs his cock up and down my slick folds, soaking him.
I buck up my hips in frustration, and his lips quirk up at my eagerness for him.
Notching himself at my entrance, he slowly pushes inside me, stretching me, filling me until I feel like I can’t take it anymore.
“Damnit, you’re so fucking tight, kitten.”
“Keep going. I need all of you,” I whine. He’s still pushing in, further and further until his hips are resting against my own. He waits and gives me another kiss, swiping a strand of hair that has fallen into my face.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, start moving,” I demand.
He nods and begins to slowly pump, easing my body to his size. Faster and faster, he picks up his pace, lifting my hips further off the bed. My hands come up to his muscular shoulders, nails digging into his skin. If it hurts him, he doesn’t let on.
“Fuck, Dean, that feels so good, you fill me so good,” I wail.
He lets out a growl at the affirmation and keeps going, never slowing down. I reach a hand down between us and rub my clit, needing more friction.
“That’s it, kitten. I like watching you touch yourself as I fuck you.” His words alone bring me closer to the edge.
“Yes, don’t stop. Fuck!” My orgasm continues to build, and then it washes over me like a giant wave as I squeeze around him.
Dean continues his pace, keeping me riding my wave of pleasure until another starts to build, and I quickly come again.
Holy shit, that has never happened to me before, even with my trusty vibrator.
Dean still doesn’t stop, not missing a single beat as my body rides out each of my orgasms. A third one is building low in my belly as he changes his angle slightly to better hit my sensitive spot, and he hits it, over and over and over again.
This one is going to be more intense, and I throw my head back and close my eyes.
He grabs my face so that I’m forced to look at him.
“You’re going to look at me while you come this time, kitten. I want to see that sexy face as I come, making you come,” he growls out.
Again, his words send me over the edge, making my moan long and loud as I shudder around him, falling apart. He mutters a curse, and his own release takes hold as he spills all of himself into the condom.
He leans in for another kiss, both of us sweaty and breathing hard.
He removes himself from me and takes care of the condom in the bathroom I direct him to.
Once he returns, I’ve put on a large shirt and sleep shorts.
I’ve slid under the blankets, and I motion for him to join me.
After sliding his boxers back on, he slides in beside me and I nestle into the crook of his neck while he wraps his arms around me.
Easily, we both drift off to sleep cuddled into each other.
“DANIEL!” Dean shouts as the blankets shift as he sits up in the bed, sweaty and panting. He swings his feet over the side of the bed as I also sit up, and I gently rub his bare back in soothing circles.
“Hey, it’s okay. It was only a nightmare,” I say calmly. I’m familiar with these types of nightmares. I had them for a long time after my mom died, and they still happen sometimes, usually closer to the anniversary of her death. Obviously, this still weighs heavily on his shoulders.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, padding over to the bathroom and closing the door. The faucet turns on and I head into the kitchen.
When I return, he’s back in bed, wide awake. I place the hot chocolate I made for us on the bedside table and slide into bed again.
“What’s this?” he asks, taking the mug I offer him.
“Hot cocoa. Dad always made some when I would have nightmares after my mom died,” I explain, taking a sip from my own mug.
“I’m sorry I woke you. Some nights are worse than others, and the closer it gets to the day—they get worse.
” The sadness in his voice makes my heart ache for him.
I can tell how much he misses his brother and how much he still wants him to be here.
I wish I could wave a magic wand and fix it all for him, right here and now, just to make that pain go away.
“It happens for me, too. Do you want to talk about it?”
He shakes his head. “Talking doesn’t seem to help. Nothing does, except winning the championship and winning the spot in the Cup Series. I need to do it. For him.”
“But what about you?” I press. “Is this what you want?”
His eyes narrow at me in question. “Trying to get in my head, Brady?” He takes another sip from his mug.
I huff a small laugh. “No, I’m just wondering if this is something you really want, or what you think Daniel would want.”
He ponders that for a moment before answering. “I have dreamed of racing in Cup since I was a kid. It’s everything I’ve worked for, and I know if Daniel were here, he’d be cheering me on every step of the way.”
“Okay.” I give him a nod. I don’t really know what else to say. We finish our cocoas, and I cuddle back into his arms. Now that I’ve been in his embrace, it feels so…right. Like I’m meant to be in his arms.
My heart pounds in my chest as Dean’s breathing evens out, and I know he’s fallen back to sleep.
My thoughts are spiraling out of control.
Circling the drain of every possibility of what’s happening.
Maybe I can have this one time hookup, or maybe just the benefits part.
I know Dean isn’t the relationship type, and after my last one, I don’t think I want to risk my heart getting broken all over again.
And I don’t want it broken by Dean Dixon.