Page 64 of Dallas

Over me. Under me. Inside of me.

“I want you,” I say.

Because I know that matters to him. Because I know he wants to hear me say it out loud.

“That’s good,” he says. “Because I want you.”

And then, there’s no more talking. He pulls me into his arms and kisses me. He pulls my dress-up over my head and reaches behind my back, unhooking my bra with deft, practiced fingers. And he’s right, I appreciate it.

Then he lays me down gently on the bed, stripping my underwear off, looking at me in a way that makes me feelbeautiful. His desire makes me feel good. His desire fills me with confidence. It makes me feel new. It makes me feel like I own every part of myself. I’ve done a lot of work on my own. I’m proud of how strong I am. But I’ve always needed Dallas, and I’m not ashamed of that at all.

He was the missing piece to this. And I’m completely okay with that.

He moves to me, kissing me, hands going between my thighs again as he strokes me, bringing me back to that state of oblivion. Where I’m not thinking too deeply about us, about the past, about what I haven’t done, or what is left to do now.

I’m just lost. In feeling good. In feeling his.

Tears prick my eyes, and I close them, clinging to his shoulders as he pushes a finger inside of me, then a second. As he brings me to the edge before kissing his way down my neck, drawing one nipple into his mouth and sucking it in deep. I arch my back up off the bed. It’s wonderful that it’s Dallas. But this intimacy… It’s…

And then he kisses his way down my stomach, and I know exactly what he’s planning on doing. He forces my thighs apart, and he’s past asking. He lowers his head, and he licks me. Right there.

He looks up at me, all that blue. That familiar blue, as he starts to eat me like I’m the most delicious dessert he’s ever had.

All I can do is surrender.

All I can do is give myself over to the incredible sensations he’s creating in my body. I didn’t know that it could be like this. I didn’t know anything could be like this.

I knew that the body could endure a whole lot of indignity. A whole lot of pain. A whole lot of suffering.

But I had no idea that it could endure this level of pleasure. I didn’t know that I had the capacity for this.

I am made new by it.

All of a sudden, there is no end to the beauty in the world. I was so world-weary and cynical for so long, I felt like I’d seen too much of life. Now I think I haven’t seen enough. I realize that I don’t know much of anything. I feel small, gloriously so.

There are miracles out there, and I haven’t even scratched the surface of them. But now I know of their existence thanks to Dallas Dodge’s talented, wicked tongue.

He pushes two fingers inside of me as he continues to tease me with his mouth. The slow, aching rhythm building a new climax inside of me that’s deeper, more intense than the one that came before.

And when I come this time, I cry out his name, my arm thrown over my eyes as my back arches up off the mattress, as I try to keep myself from flying into millions of pieces.

I’m not sure that I succeed. Maybe I’ve shattered completely. Maybe I’m going to blow away on the wind.

That feels reasonable. And fine.

Because he’s still there. And that’s all that matters.

He kisses his way back up my body, lips skimming over my breasts before he licks his way up my neck and claims my mouth again. I taste my own pleasure on his lips, and there’s something deeply beautiful about that. That the evidence of how much I want this, of how much I enjoyed it is right there, between us. Undeniable.

He pauses for a moment and grabs a condom from a drawer in his nightstand. Then he tears it open and rolls it onto his thick length. I watch, transfixed as his large hand grips that gorgeous part of him. It’s so erotic, and I had no idea something as basic as protection could be so…sexy.

He presses his forehead against mine, his hand moving to my hip as he spreads my thighs wide, positioning himself between them. I feel the blunt head of his cock up against the slick entrance to my body, and he begins to push inside of me, slowly, achingly so. There’s an apology in his blue eyes, I see it. But he doesn’t speak. He’s sorry that it hurts. That he’s stretching me.

But I’m not.

Because it makes it feel real. It makes all of this feel real. And it’s a different kind of pain than anything that’s come before. Because I want this. I want him buried as deep inside of me as he can go. I want everything. All of him.

And then he’s there. As deep inside me as he can go. And it’s like everything makes sense. Like he was always meant to be there.

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