Page 10 of Dash to Me
I take my time undressing her, one button at a time, placing soft kisses on each new patch of skin revealed. When I unhook her bra, I pause, drinking in the sight of her. She moves to cover herself, but I gently take her wrists.
“You’re beautiful,” I tell her, meaning every word. “So fucking beautiful it hurts.”
Her body relaxes under my gaze, and I lower my head to taste her breast, circling her nipple with my tongue before taking it between my lips. The moan that escapes her sends electricity straight to my groin, but I force myself to maintain control. Tonight isn’t about me.
I trail kisses down her stomach, and I look up, seeking permission, and she nods, lifting her hips to help me slide her panties off.
“Still okay?” I ask, my voice rough with desire.
“Yes,” she breathes, spreading her legs slightly in invitation.
I settle between her thighs, placing soft kisses on the inside of each one, moving closer to her center with deliberate slowness. When I finally taste her, her back arches off the bed, a strangled cry escaping her lips. I take my time exploring her with my tongue, learning what makes her gasp and what makes her moan my name.
Her hands find my hair, gripping tightly as I focus on the spot that makes her thighs tremble. I slip one finger inside her, then two, curling them just right as I continue to work her with my mouth. Her breathing becomes erratic, her hips moving against my face.
“I’m—I’m close,” she warns, her voice breaking.
I don’t stop, increasing the pressure of my tongue, working my fingers deeper. When she comes, it’s with my name on her lips, her body shaking beneath me. I stay with her through it, easing her down gently.
I want to memorize every inch of her. The way her eyes darken when I trace my fingers down her neck, the small gasp that escapes her lips when I brush against the outline of her breast. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and tonight, I’m going to show her exactly how much.
I stand up, unbuttoning his jeans with one hand while the other grips her hip.
“Tell me you want it.”
“I want it,” she pants, “I need it?—”
And then I’m inside her, in one deep, relentless thrust that makes her scream all over again.
Her body tightens around me like a vice, so wet and warm I have to grit my teeth to keep from losing it right then. I still my hips, letting her adjust to my size, watching her face for any sign of discomfort.
“You okay?” I manage to ask through clenched teeth. She is probably sick of me asking, but I don’t want to fuck this up.
“Yes,” she breathes. “God, yes.”
I start to move slowly, pulling out almost completely before sinking back in. Each thrust draws a new sound from her lips—little gasps and moans that drive me fucking wild. I angle my hips, searching for that spot that will make her see stars. When I find it, her reaction is immediate. Her nails dig into my back hard enough to leave marks, and I welcome the pain. I want her to mark me, to claim me as hers just as I’m claiming her.
“Harder,” she pleads, surprising me. “Please, I need more.”
Who am I to deny her? I pick up the pace, driving into her with powerful thrusts that have the headboard slamming against the wall. I don’t care who hears us. Let the whole damn hotel know she’s mine. I slip a hand between us, finding her clit with my thumb. She arches off the bed, crying out my name like a prayer. The sight of her—flushed and desperate beneath me—nearly undoes me.
“Come for me again,” I command, circling her clit faster. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”
This isn’t just sex—it’s a fucking revelation. When she comes, her walls pulsing around me, I follow her over the edge.
My lips find hers again, and then I go to grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom to clean her.
“What is that for?”
I point to her. “We will shower in a bit, but right now, I want to hold you in my arms for a little while.”
Afterward, I hold her close. I press gentle kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, anywhere I can reach. My dream has officially come true. Eva and I have always been end game. We just needed a push.
“Was that okay?” she asks.
I laugh softly against her hair. “That was fucking perfect. You’re perfect. Still worried about compatibility?”
She snuggles closer, tracing patterns on my chest. “I was so nervous.”
