Page 91 of Dream Girl Drama

Tangible relief made him shudder and then his lips were back on hers, his tongue stroking the interior of her mouth, deeply, adoringly, fingers tangling in her hair. And the effect of him was so potent, she stumbled slightly, her hip connecting with her dresser. With a groove of concern forming between his brows, Sig broke the kiss and rubbed the spot where she’d hit the furniture. Seeing his big hand massaging her hip, the length of him hanging free of his sweatpants, she couldn’t wait. Neither could he, said his glazed eyes, his flushed face.

They moved at the same time, boosting her up onto the dresser.

“This is good. This is... good. I’m afraid to get into your bed,” he said in between shallow breaths, his throat bobbing. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to leave it.”

“I wish you didn’t have to,” she whispered.

He slammed his fist down on top of the dresser, as if that statement had wounded him. “Get these fucking panties off,” he growled, lifting her with the crook of his arm, divesting her of the underwear in one long yank. Gone. “I got your reward right here.”

Sig fell to his knees like a thankful man in prayer, parting her flesh with an undulating tongue. Watching her. Prodding her clit a little, teasing, then bathing it with the flattened surface, raking it side to side, side to side, stealing her ability to think or breathe.

Upon her first shudder, he hooked his grip beneath her knees, squeaking her backside closer to the edge, then found her butt with both hands, clutching, pulling, grinding her sex against his face, pressing his tongue deep, deep,deepinto her entrance until she screamed, her body quaking reflexively, throat already sore from whimpering, straining.

“Sig. Oh. Oh my God. Sig, that’s good.That’s so good.”

The orgasm was like sinking into a hot bath, all the way to the crown of her head. Her body sort of just melted, the human form of candle wax, while her core clenched and tightened around his still-thrusting tongue, those hands still on her cheeks, urging her as close as possible to his mouth, his mouth, hisperfect, beloved mouth.

She was still gasping from the intensity of the release when Sig stood, drawing her body up against his roughly, his brown gaze wild as he looked down at her from above, holding that blistering, soul-crushing eye contact while entering her. Hard. One thick, hot pump and he was seated, swallowing her scream with an open mouth and starting to thrust. Holding nothing back, neither one of them caring as the dresser drawers rattled, perfume bottles toppled over, the back of the furniture slammed into the wall.

“You’re going to feel me in ways you won’t forget, Chloe,” he rasped.

“Yes.Yes.I am.”

He bore down on her, his hips moving like the pistons of an engine, his smooth inches finding their home inside of her again, again, again, her knees jostling on either side of his waist, more screams building in her throat. “I won’t spend a minute the rest of my life without you in my head and I don’t want it any other way. I don’t care if it hurts, you’re going to stay there,” he said hoarsely, kissing her in a way that was somehow rough and sweet at the same time. “Always my dream girl.Alwaysmine.”

“Always, Sig.”

He dragged her upright and off the dresser, bouncing her on his stiffness once, twice, before shouting her name like an epithet, his fingers bruising as they pressed, pressed, grinded her onto his spurting sex, both of them crying out when he lunged forward, giving her a final series of gloriously violent drives against the dresser, which she encouraged with whimpers of his name, rakes of her nails down the powerful breadth of his back.

Then, like two beings that had lost animation, they dropped to the floor, Sig cradling Chloe in his lap, his mouth dropping furious kisses on her hairline, even while he struggled to catch his breath.

“Chloe, please—”

She never found out what Sig was going to say, because both of their phones rang at once.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sig’s instincts were telling him to pin Chloe to the floor to prevent her from answering the phone. Drag her into bed, pull the covers down over their heads, and never leave this bedroom. There couldn’t be anything good on the other end of that call. He couldn’t say what made him so positive of that fact. Maybe trepidation had become his default because the world was trying to take this woman away from him. Or maybe he just wanted to stay cocooned in this moment with Chloe forever, their scents on each other’s sweaty skin.

“The phones...” she said, trying to lift her head, but losing power in her neck and sagging more firmly against him, her cheek in between his pecs.

“Ignore them. Do you have anywhere to be today?” he asked, stroking her hair.

“Practice with Grace in a couple of hours.” She yawned against his chest and he saw the life he wanted flash before his eyes. Waking up with her every day. Forever. Watching her shake the drowsiness. “Not a long one, though. She has a performance tonight.”

“And I have my meeting.” He tightened his arms around her, raising his voice to drown out the incessant chimes coming from the bathroom. “But we have a couple of hours.”

The phones stopped ringing.

Almost immediately, they started again.

“Ignore the world with me a little longer, Chlo,” he begged.

“But who would be calling us both? Continually?” Her focus was drifting. He was losing her. “Something could be wrong.”

“Please. I don’t give a fuck.”

She looked up at him with a smirk that slowly started to flatten. “Do you think... there’s another article?”

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