Page 63 of Dream Chaser
“Not even close.” I force a laugh, but my voice is thready, and I know she hears it.
She laughs—a short, feral sound—and starts grinding against me with even more purpose. I try to hold out, but she’s relentless—hands in my hair like last night, rocking back and forth, lips at my jaw, neck, then collarbone, biting and sucking every exposed inch.
I’m fucked, drowning in her and loving every goddamn second.
I fight back, gripping her tighter, dragging my hands up under her shirt until I feel the edge of her bra. She arches her back, like I knew she would, and I slide my fingers along the curve of her ribs until I hook a thumb under the fabric and find her nipple. She hisses, shudders, and her thighs clench around me. I roll her hard little bead between my fingers, gentle but insistent, and she rewards me with a groan so deep I feel it in my balls.
She retaliates by popping my button then slipping her hand inside, fingers greedy. I buck up into her, and she circles me with her palm, grip just tight enough to make my eyes roll back. She pumps me once, twice, slow at first, then faster, and it’s my turn to break the kiss, gasping for air as the world goes white around the edges.
“Still with me?” she purrs, stroking me harder, faster.
“Barely,” I admit, unable to feed her a line of bullshit, even a shred of bravado.
She nips my ear. “Good.”
The room smells like sweat, and salt, and heat. My hands go everywhere at once, her hair, her back, the hard curve of her thigh. She lets me explore, lets me map her body, her own hands never still, stroking closer to the edge.
At some point, she pulls back, just enough to stare at me, her hair wild and lips swollen, cheeks flushed. “You ready to tap out?” she teases, but her voice shakes.
“Not a fucking chance, Iz.”
I want to win, want her to lose control before I do, if only by seconds.
She leans in, forehead pressed to mine, and we just breathe together for a moment, hearts jackhammering against each other. Then she kisses me again, softer this time, but still hungry, still wanting. I match her, letting the kiss grow, letting it become something deeper and more urgent.
She slides her hand out of my pants and brings it up to my mouth, fingers glistening with precum. “Open,” she dares.
Fuck it, I do, sucking her fingers clean as she watches with hooded eyes. Then I reach up, grab the back of her neck, and pull her in for a kiss that is all tongue and teeth, desperate and raw. She melts against me, and I can feel her pulse thundering under her skin.
My other hand finds its way between her legs, fingers slipping under the edge of her underwear. She’s already wet, slick, and ready, and I groan into her mouth as I slide a finger inside.
She gasps, whole body tensing, her nails digging into my shoulders as I move us to the floor.
“Fuck,” she whispers as her back hits the wide, wooden slats.
I yank off her pants and finger-fuck the hell out of her as I grab the condom I brought from my pocket, tearing it open with my teeth. I have to stop fingering her to shove my jeans down past my ass and sheath my cock.
I look up at her, a slow smile spreading as I slide the head of my cock up and down her soaked slit. “I’m gonna fuck you.”
“Get to it.”
We fuck hard. Neither one of us giving in, neither one tapping out.
“So fucking good, Iz.”
“Yes, yes …”
“Fuck yes,” I hiss, trying not to come, willing myself not to fucking come.
Until she does …
Then I fucking lose it. I pound into her, making her come harder as I jet off my own release.
I bury my face in her shoulder and follow her over the edge. We shudder together, blasted with aftershocks …fucking aftershocks?
For a long moment, we just stay like that—bodies tangled, breath mixing, hearts slowing back to something like normal.
She’s the first to move, brushing the hair from her face as she pants out, “So, who’s buying snacks?”
