Page 73 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

Why does he have to say things like that? It’s like his charm level is set to panty-melting or something. And he doesn’t even mean to do it. It’s not like he’s trying to be charming because he says it in his usual matter-of-fact monotone, yet that somehow makes it more appealing. I have a very acquired taste for assholes, macho guys who think sharing their softer side isn’t manly or they think showing emotion is just for chicks. Dylan isn’t like that. He’s so comfortable sharing parts of himself that most guys deem weak. And it’s not weak at all. I find myself wondering why women love the bad boy so much when the good guy is so...everything. He’s just everything. Sweet and thoughtful and kind, but also sexy and funny. He’s everything. I mean, my heart is skipping beats here.

I ignore the way my face heats up and roll my eyes. “Well, you’ll just have to give your feelings a good talking to. Be straight with them, you know. Just tell them:Sorry, guys. This far and no further.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s how feelings work.” The warm glow from the candlelight dances on his face, and that cute smile quirks his lips up again. “You wouldn’t understand. You only have six feelings outside your vagina and?”

“Uh...correction,” I cut in, raising my finger to silence him. “Seven now. One escaped earlier. I was so distracted when you threw that entire vat ofcheeseat me...”

His embarrassment causes him to snicker. “Why are you still going on about that?”

“Because you just flung it at me with wild abandon and then you throw in all these candles and Ed Fucking Sheeran. I was not prepared. I didn’t even notice that seventh feeling crawl out...and now it’s just creeping its way up.”

“Yeah?” That playful smile stays on his face, but his forefinger slides beneath the seam of my halter top and traces a slow path down to the middle of my chest. His brown eyes follow the movement, and his breath catches when he reaches the swell of my breast. “Is this where it’s headed?”

“A little lower,” I say, my voice sounding raspy.

His hand travels lower and I gasp when the pad of his finger brushes against my nipple. He watches the unsteady rise and fall of my chest before his heated gaze slowly makes its way back up to my face. Those torrid brown eyes hold mine as his hand moves up again, gliding along the seam and onto the strap. It moves around my neck until he tugs lightly to undo the tie and then the loose strings fall over my shoulders.

Tentatively, he leans closer. I wait for his mouth to touch mine, but instead, he dips his head to lightly kiss my collarbone. “I’m a little nervous to kiss you,” he whispers. “I feel like I lose control when I kiss you.” He nuzzles his nose just below my ear, and I let out a soft sigh when his tongue moistens the sensitive spot at the base of my throat. “Just the way you smell...and the way you feel...” A firm hand comes up on the other side to clasp my jaw, almost like he’s holding me in place. His teeth scrape against my neck and his breathing elevates. Heated exhales electrify my body as they cascade over my skin. “And the way you taste...it sort of makes me lose common sense...and I know I should be gentle with you.” He lifts his head slightly, rubbing his thumb over my mouth. “But then I look at your lips, and it’s like...lips like yours weren’t made for tenderness. It would be a waste. They’re full and supple for a reason, right? They were made to be kissed for hours. They were made to be bitten and sucked on.” He does just that. His teeth sink into my lower lip, gripping hard enough to draw a small moan from me before he pulls it into his mouth and lightly sucks on it to soothe the sting. “Lips like yours were made to be ravaged and abused. They were made for lips like mine.”

A soft kiss touches my lips...and then another. He uses his thumb to tug my chin down, and then his tongue fills my mouth. He shows me exactly what he means because his kiss is hard and relentless. Slow yet ferocious. Brutal, yet so sweetly intense. He sets my entire body on fire with that single kiss. With a nudge, he gets me flat on my back, and then his big body comes over me. Using his knee, he spreads my legs apart, and the hard ridge of his cock is all I feel when he settles his hips between them.

He pulls the material of my halter top down, freeing my breasts halfway before he cups one. A loud groan rumbles in his throat. “You feel so...Wait...Wait a second.” Lifting off me, he moves back to sit on his knees and tugs the material further down, exposing me fully to the cool night air and the scalding heat of his gaze. “Oh, my...” He runs both hands through his hair before clasping them together at the back of his head as he stares down at me. “Oh, my God! Fuck me! You’re telling me you’ve been carrying these around with you theentiretime?”

I giggle. “They’re...sort of attached.”

“And you just go about life all casual, like you’re not housing the sexiest fucking things on the planet.”

“You make it seem like you’ve never seen boobs before.”

“Not like these.” His eyes are still glued to my chest. “If I had seen anything even remotely close to this before, I never would’ve gotten out of my masturbation phase. God, you’re beautiful, just...wow.” The wide grin on his face shows how excited he is. “And these are mine? For the whole week? Yes, please! I’ll take two.”

“You’re a dork.” I’m still giggling when I lift up, grab the front of his T-shirt, and pull him back on top of me again. “Now, shut up and kiss me.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.”

I don’t know what happens, but the energy between us changes the second his lips capture mine. I don’t know if it’s because he’s thrusting his tongue into my mouth as if it contains some addictive elixir that has him spellbound to the point where he can’t stop kissing me. I’m not sure if it’s because his hands are roaming over my every curve, as if he’s trying to brand me with his touch. And I can’t really say if it’s because he’s grinding his cock against me with such attuned precision that an orgasm is imminent and he’s not even inside me.

Maybe it’s a combination of all those things that has me so hot I’m on the verge of combusting. My heat levels go up a few degrees when his hand slides down my stomach. There’s a light tug at the waistband of my shorts before the button pops open and then, with excruciating slowness, he drags my zipper down.

Keeping his eyes locked on mine, his hand dips into my panties. He lightly massages my clit and smiles when my breath hitches, like he takes pleasure in watching me unravel beneath him. Two thick fingers slide inside me, and he groans louder than I do.

“I see how that seventh feeling managed to slip out,” he teases. “You’re so wet for me.”

My hips begin to rock, and I feel him hit a spot deeper inside me. The effect he has on me is dizzying, and I can do nothing but cling to him. I have one hand twisted in his T-shirt, the other gripping his hair, and I’m moaning into his mouth like some amateur who’s only playedonegame of spin the bottle. I’m better than this, I know it. I’m not usually this desperate. If anyone ever found out about this, I’d be forced to relinquish my throne, step down as the monarch of the block. I’m just going to pretend that I’m not quivering with need and blame it on the fact that I haven’t orgasmed since number nine.

My hand slides down over his jeans, and I rub my palm up and down the length of him. He shuts his eyes, dropping his forehead against mine, and his heavy breaths fan my skin. His eyebrows draw together and watching him lose himself in the pleasure of my touch turns me on even more. The pressure mounts within me. I’m right on the edge and my hips rock faster, riding his fingers, chasing the release I crave. “Dylan,” I murmur. “I’m so close.”

Without warning, he dips his head, and his mouth closes over one nipple. His tongue swirls around the swollen peak. His breaths are erratic, hot on my skin. He thrusts faster into my hand, and the force of his hips simultaneously shoves his fingers deeper inside me. My orgasm hits me like a tidal wave, crashing over my body in heated ripples of ecstasy.

Dylan goes still on top of me, then quickly sits up. “Shit.”

I’m slowly coming down from my high, so it takes a second to notice the distressed expression on his face. “Are you okay?” I ask apprehensively.

“Uh...no.” He’s avoiding my eyes as he tries to slow his breathing. “I think...I think we should go.”

My whole body goes cold. I hope he’s not doing what I think he’s doing. This part of the night is very familiar to me. After I’ve shared my body and the guy has taken what he wants from me, he usually tries to end the night with a very awkward:Thanks...So, I’ll give you a call sometime. Once again, I’m the fool because I thought Dylan would be different.

“You want to leave right now?” I already know the answer and start tying up my halter top.

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