Page 58 of When We Were Younger

I doubt you'll still want to share it with me after I'm gone.

I give him my fakest smile, trying to shove down the sadness that's been creeping up on me. If Stephen notices, he doesn't say anything. A beat passes, and then he's yawning and stretching his arms above hishead. I'm grateful for the reprieve from the intensity of his gaze.

"I know I made a big deal about wanting to be able to go back to my place tonight-"

"Please, please tell me you've changed your mind, and we can sleep here? I'm exhausted." I interrupt.

Physically and emotionally, I don't say.

He laughs as he lifts me off the counter. He tucks his hands under my ass and starts towards the stairs.

"We are absolutely staying here tonight, sweetheart. Let's go to bed. Santa won't come if you don't go to sleep."

I look over his shoulder to the living room. Daisy May, Sadie, and Mr. Hudson are all still sleeping soundly in the glow of the electric fireplace.

"Should we maybe get Sadie up to bed?" I ask.

"Delilah can deal with her when she wakes up. Sadie is perfectly fine where she is with Pops and the pup."

He passes the staircase and crosses the hall seamlessly, all while holding me up and kissing me everywhere. My lips, my cheeks, my collarbones. At his bedroom door, he pauses to kiss me deeply in the doorway, and I can't stop a moan from working its way up my throat and out of my mouth.

"Stephen, I just promised your mother that we never had sex in her house," I whisper as my dress rides up my thighs and Stephen takes the advantage, pressing his hardening cock against my center.

"I know," he mumbles against my lips, then crosses the doorway and quietly kicks the door shut behindhim. He drops me onto his bed, then crawls on top of me, caging me in. "I heard you. And to be clear, you told her we never had sex under her roof when we were teenagers. You made no such promises about the things we might do now that we're all grown up." He grazes his thumb down my chest, over the peak of my nipple, and my hips hike up of their own will. I grind against him, even as I protest.

"If you're a naughty boy on Christmas Eve, Santa might not bring you any presents tomorrow."

"Unless it's you, wrapped up in silk and lace like a delicious gift for me to open, I'm not interested in anything the Big Guy would leave under that tree anyway," he grumbles as his lips graze the shell of my ear, then down. He nips at the lobe, sucking it into his mouth, gold diamond Bvlgari hoop and all. A shockwave of pleasure jolts through me, from my core to my fingertips. Every inch of me is alive and fraying. His hands wander, palm splayed against my thigh and traveling north, right to the crease where my panties end. His fingers are a breath away from where I want him, where I'm throbbing for him, but he pulls away. I groan and stomp my fists on the bed, and he laughs at me, wickedly.

"Fuck, teenage Stephen would be absolutely losing his mind if he knew what was about to go down in this bed," he mumbles as he pushes the hem of my dress up. I lift my hips, and the skirt bunches at my waist.

"Did teenage Stephen have a lot of dirty dreams about having a woman underneath him in this bed?" Itease as I toy with the waistband of my underwear. I want to torture him like he's torturing me, but he seems perfectly content to watch me writhe and wiggle in the darkness of his bedroom.

"Sweetheart, teenage Stephen had a lot of dirty dreams, but they were all about you. Fuck, twenty-eight-year-old Stephen has dirty dreams exclusively starring you. You in your skintight skirts. You in your pretty little panties. You naked, your hips in my hands, on top of me, underneath me, sitting on my face. It's all you, Dorothea. Only ever you."

My breath catches as he stares down at me. The weight of his gaze sits on my chest like an anvil, somehow killing me and breathing life into my lungs at the same time. It's too much, he's too much, and I'll never get enough of him. I push up to my elbows.

"Unzip my dress, Stephen. Take off my bra, take off my panties, and fuck me. Fuck me the way you fantasized about while I was gone."

His lips part and he lets out a stuttered breath, and like the perfect, obedient lover he is, he listens. He hauls me up and pulls me into a hot kiss as his hands grab at my back and yank at the zipper. He pulls away just long enough to pull the dress over my head, and then his mouth is back on mine, hungry and domineering while he does exactly what I told him too.

He grabs a fistful of the front of my threadbare bralette and pulls, the sound of the lace tearing to shreds in his hands echoing off the walls. I shrug the straps off my shoulders and let the ruined garment fallto the wayside, and then Stephen pushes me onto my back, heaving my legs up into the air. He pulls my panties over my ass and slowly drags them down my legs. When he gets them off my ankles, I spread. I could go wider, could go all the way into the splits and probably watch his head explode if this full-size bed wasn't pushed up against the wall, but there's still plenty of room for him to fall between them.

And fall, he does. Face first, right into my aching pussy. His breath is hot against my wetness, and when he inhales–groaning and thrusting his hips against the mattress as he goes–I lose whatever shred of dignity I've been holding onto and rake my fingers into his hair, gripping at the bun tied atop of his head and clawing my nails into his scalp. I thrust, and his tongue is there, right there where I want him, lapping at my clit like he's a dying man and my pussy is the only source of water for miles. He teases at my entrance with two fingers, and I'm so primed and ready for him that when I buck, he slides in with ease.

"So hot, baby," he mumbles, almost incoherently as I grind myself into his face. I turn my head and bite down on his pillow to keep myself quiet as the overwhelming pleasure continues to build inside of me. My toes curl into the mattress as my orgasm teases its arrival at the base of my spine. Stephen wraps his lips around my clit, sucking it while flicking his tongue, fucking me with his fingers, and I shatter.

I nearly bite straight through the pillow as release tears through me. Colors burst behind my eyes as mymind and body soar on the bliss of this high. Stephen stops the ministrations of his tongue when I whine, too sensitive to take any more of the agonizing pleasure he brings me with his mouth. Instead, I pull at the roots of his hair, and he follows, settling on top of me and kissing me, swallowing my moans while he allows me to grind out the receding waves of my orgasm on his still-covered erection.

You're so beautiful.

So fucking beautiful.

My Dorothea.

Mine mine mine.

Love this so much.

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