Page 17 of Wrapped Around My Heart
“Words, Freckles. I need to hear you say that this”—he pulls out, only to add a second finger in on a powerful thrust—“is all for me. And only me.”
He finds a painfully slow pace, curling his fingers just right to hit the perfect spot on every inward move.
Briefly, I think about the fact that we agreed my parents’ house was an off-limits place to fool around. But with his fingers inside me, I know there’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him to stop.
On his next stroke, his thumb finds my clit as he slams his fingers into me and then freezes. A sound that can only be classified as a damn whimper spills from my lips. My hips shift, silently seeking more, but Dean grips my waist and holds me in place.
“Arianna, say it. Logically, I know you have no interest in golf boy, that you think he’s a tool and would never even entertain him outside of your parents’ dining room.” His thumb starts working back and forth over my clit, but it’s only enough pressure to remind me what I’m missing out on. “But logic goes out the window when jealousy comes into play, baby. So I need to hear you say that you want me. Just me.”
“I do.” I gasp, nodding and tightening my grip on his hair. “Only you, Dean. I only want you.”
“Fuck, those are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard you say.”
His mouth finds mine and he finally starts moving again and I moan into the kiss.
I cling to him, riding his hand and soaring even higher. Pressure builds low in my stomach and the urgency for a releasehits me square in the chest until seeking the orgasm is all I can focus on. My kiss becomes sloppy. All thoughts solely focused on what his fingers are doing to me and how close I am to that sweet bliss.
So when he yanks his fingers free, there’s no stopping the cry of frustration.
“What the hell?” I snap, yanking his head back to glare at him, but the damn man just smiles. Ignoring the death grip I have on his hair, Dean leans in to kiss me once before taking a small step back and grabs my hips.
Before I can utter another word, he’s spinning me around and pushing me forward with a hand on my back. I go willingly, bending over the edge of the bed until my chest and face are pressed against the mattress.
My body hums with energy from the denied orgasm, mixing with the anticipation of what’s about to happen. I peek over my shoulder, biting my lip as Dean pulls his wallet from his pocket and grabs a condom. He drops the wallet to the floor and it’s then that I notice his pants and boxers are already gone.
I lick my lips at the sight of him stroking his hard cock. I’m hit with the urge to drop to my knees and take him in my mouth. To suck him so deep that his knees buckle and he’s right on the edge of a release just like me.
“Tempting thought,” he purrs as if he can read my mind. Ripping the packet open with his teeth, he meets my hungry stare. “But right now the only thing I can focus on is sinking into your warm, tight little cunt and fucking you until there’s no room for any thought that isn’t about me.”
In one swift movement, Dean rolls the condom down his length, shoves my underwear to the side, and is lining himself up. The head of his dick catches at my opening and he grips my hips in both hands. His gaze finally leaves mine, dropping to watch where we’re about to be joined. Since I can’t see from thisangle, I try to keep my eyes on his face, wanting to watch every reaction. But the second he begins moving, there’s no hope for me keeping my eyelids open.
Dean slowly works himself inside me, the delicious ache from being stretched out and bent over rolls through my body. By the time he’s fully in, we’re both panting. He groans but doesn’t give either of us a second to adjust before he’s pulling back out and slamming inside me once more.
“Holy shit,” I moan, turning to bury my face in the comforter.
No one ever comes upstairs during my parents’ gatherings, but with my luck, someone would be walking past the stairs and hear something, then get curious enough to see who it is.
Without stopping his punishing thrusts, Dean releases one of my hips, tangles his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck, and tugs. I follow the guided movement willingly. He pulls me up until my back is flush with his chest, and I barely stifle the moan from the new angle.
Using his hold on me, Dean turns my head, nipping my ear and jaw as he continues to pound into me.
“Say it again,” he demands, and I don’t need to ask. I already know what he wants to hear.
“I only want you.”
He snaps his hips, hitting that glorious spot inside me over and over again.
“Again.”
“I—oh fuck.”
His free hand snaking around to find my clit distracts me, bringing me higher than before.
“Say it, Ari,” he demands in a low voice that doesn’t sound like him.
I thought I’d seen all the sides of Dean there were to see. Lilly has described him as a golden retriever, and I wholeheartedly agree. He’s funny, full of energy, and always loyal. He bouncesthrough life practically shitting out sunshine and never able to sit still for longer than a second.
This version of Dean, though? It almost reminds me of the man I can’t take my eyes off of during a game. He’s lasered in on the task in front of him. A man on a mission with only one goal and nothing can distract him when he’s in front of the net.
