Page 105 of Dreaming of Dawson

I bought a new dress when Dawson clarified that going to the wedding with him wasn’t an option, and I go over to thecloset, pulling it out, along with some underwear. He waits for me to finish, then while I settle on the bed, opening my brand new packet of stockings, he sorts out his own clothes, bringing them back to his side of the bed.

I’ll admit stockings are a bit of a novelty for me. I limit my skirt and dress wearing to the warmer months of the year, so I’ve never needed to worry about what to wear on my legs when it’s this cold, and jeans aren’t an option. But I realized I’d have to get something, and stockings seemed like a lot more fun than pantyhose. Naturally, that meant I had to buy a garter belt, and of course, that led to me having to get a new bra and panties, too.

My credit card might have been complaining, but I wasn’t… and I don’t think Dawson will be, either.

The garter belt is a little fiddly and I’m extra careful with the stockings. They’re super-fine, and have a delicate lace band around the top, but once they’re on, they’re quite comfortable. I add the bra and matching thong, and turn around to pick up my dress, just as Dawson gets up from the bed, where he’s been sitting by his nightstand, trying to find his cufflinks.

“Holy fucking shit,” he says. There’s a hunger in his eyes, and as he stalks around the bed, he’s already hard, coming up to me, and putting his hands on my waist. “What are you trying to do to me?” he whispers.

“Nothing. I just thought this would look nice.”

“Nice? Once again, you need to think of another adjective, baby. Like beautiful… totally fucking beautiful.”

I smile up at him, but before I can say a word, his lips are on mine, his hands on my ass as he grinds his hips into me, groaning deeply.

“I want you,” he murmurs into my mouth.

“We don’t have time.”

“Then we’ll make time.” He breaks the kiss and spins me around. “Kneel on the bed, babe… right on the edge.”

I do as he says, gasping when he nudges my knees apart, and I feel him pull my thong aside, the head of his erection already at my entrance.

“Yes…” I hiss as he nudges inside, giving me his entire length.

“You look so fucking hot, Mace… so fucking hot.”

I smile and he lets out a groan, rubbing his hands over my ass before he pulls out of me, and then slams back in, really hard. He moves his left hand up to my right shoulder, pulling me back, while he clasps my hip with his other hand, taking me so deep, I have to moan and sigh with every inward and outward stroke.

“I need you to come, babe,” he says, struggling to breathe.

I’m not sure I can… not yet. But before I can say anything, he moves his right hand around beneath me, rubbing my clitoris, making my body shudder as he slams into me, harder and harder.

“Oh… yes… please, yes.” My uncertainty dies in an instant. I’m on fire, and within seconds, I tumble in a tangled mess of pleasure and longing and love as he thrusts deep inside me, one last time, bellowing my name, over and over, as he fills me.

I struggle to come down from that incredible high, my mind in a whirl, wondering how I got from getting dressed to lying here, catching my breath, in what feels like the blink of an eye. He pulls out of me, and I fall forward onto the bed, my body reeling, my arms unable to take my weight for a second longer. I feel the mattress dip as he sits beside me and I curl around so I’m facing him.

“That was different,” I whisper.

He reaches over, grabbing my hand, and sits me up. “Different?” he says. “Please tell me you mean good different?”

“Of course.”

“Macy?” He sounds confused, like he doesn’t believe me, and I wish I’d kept quiet now. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing… at least nothing bad.”

“But something’s wrong?”

“I—It’s just you’re normally… you’re normally so gentle.”

“Shit,” he says, tensing and pulling me in to him. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. Not at all. It was just a lot harder than usual. A lot faster.”

“Was it too hard?”

“No.”

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