Page 54 of Speeding Hearts

As if he knew, he pressed his lips to mine and slid his hands under my dress, up my thighs. His tongue searched and pulled at me. He bit softly down on my lip, working my underwear down.

“I need you now,” I said. “I can’t wait anymore.”

“Then I’d better take you.”

And with that, the tenderness shifted to the backseat once more. Dean picked me up and tossed me backward onto the bed, his body tense and strong and rippling with muscle and heat and need. He stood over me, unbuckling his belt.

I got onto my hands and knees, moving toward the edge of the bed as he stepped out of his jeans, his need pressed hard against his shorts. I pulled them down and his cock sprung loose. A fresh wave of need ran through me as I took him in for the first time.

This was my best friend. And I was going to fuck him.

Before he could move, I lunged forward and grasped his length in my hand, drawing my tongue against the tip of him.

He let out a choked gasp. He wasn’t expecting that—I was in the driver’s seat again.

But it was like that with us. After I’d taken him in my mouth, stroking him with my tongue and hands in turn, Dean stiff and moaning against me, he’d gripped my shoulders, pushing me away and flipping me on my back again. We lobbed the power back and forth, each taking what the other needed, when we needed it. Each giving what the other wanted.

He pulled my dress and bra down so they were now bunched around my waist. He teased me, nibbling and tugging on my nipples with his teeth. He brought a hand between my legs, dipping two fingers inside of me and curling, pulling at me so I moaned, panted, begged for him.

I cried out, no longer holding back.

I wanted him inside of me, but before I could catch a breath to tell him, his mouth had gone down between my legs, his tongue flicking at me fast and soft and hard in an alternating rhythm. Between his tongue and fingers, I was over the edge in seconds, moaning and crying out without any restraint as wave after wave of ecstasy pulsed through me.

“Enough,” I said finally when they died down, taking a breath. “Dean, stop making me wait.”

“You don’t like this kind of waiting?” he asked, flicking his tongue over me once more.

I was helpless.

I came and came again, and it wasn’t until I shoved him away, demanding he give me what I want that he reached for the package in his jeans. The moment he’d slid it onto himself, he pulled me on my back toward the edge of the bed. He hooked my legs over his arms and teased at my opening with his shaft.

“Tell me,” he said.

“You,” I said. “I want you, Dean.”

He tilted his hips and lowered himself onto me, driving his cock inside of me.

I cried out again in ecstasy, lost to Dean. Needing him, wanting him, having him, loving him. He thrust himself inside of me again and again, deeper each time until I was lost, floating in nothing but us.

He shuddered against me, breathing in my ear.

“Stella,” he said, as if my name were the only language he could speak.

Chapter 17

Dean

I wokeup to the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. Stella Archer, lying naked next to me on the bed, her dark hair splayed over the pillow, her face soft and almost smiling in her sleep.

The faintest light of dawn was streaming in through the windows of the trailer, the first birds chirping outside. Under it all, the soft babbling of water in the creek.

I must have only slept an hour. After making love to Stella I’d let myself fall into her, keeping all other thoughts outside our bubble. We’d gone more slowly the next time, exploring each other’s bodies. I’d wanted to draw a map of her with my fingers, to touch and claim every part of her.

After that came more frantic need, and we’d fallen asleep entangled in each other’s arms. There had been one more time, in the deep of night. I’d barely managed to get the condom on that last time. Thank Christ I’d stuffed a handful in my pocket before heading out.

The thought of what I’d gone to the bar to do made me feel ill now. How could I consider being with anyone else when what I’d done with Stella had changed me so irrevocably? I finally understood why it was called making love, because that’s exactly what we’d been doing. It was beyond sex. So far beyond that I had no words to do it justice.

So far beyond, that now, as consciousness came, a kind of panic ran through me.

---