Page 8 of Miami Confessions

“You like that, huh?” he whispered into my hair.

I nodded and fought for breath as his hand slid its way down to my thigh. He teased my skin for a moment before I couldn’t take it any longer.

“Dylan,” I moaned.

“Hmm?” he groaned in response.

“Touch me,” I commanded.

I could feel him smile behind me.

“I love a woman who knows what she wants.”

“I want you to touch me.”

“Where?”

I was gasping for breath as he continued thrusting inside me, but I wanted more. I needed more.

“I don’t care, just make me come.”

Dylan’s chest rumbled with a groan as his fingers found my clit. I gasped in surprise and arched my back as he ran them up and down my most sensitive skin.

“How’s that?” he muttered.

“Yes,” I gasped.

It was the only word I could get out. Dylan touched me, kissed me, licked me, bit me until I thought I might pass out from the pleasure. The room was spinning around me, and my toes were tingling. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t think about anything except the man behind me who was fucking me better than I could have ever imagined.

I moaned and sighed as I reached my climax, and a moment later, Dylan’s hands were on my hips, and he was thrusting himself inside me with impressive force. He groaned as he finished, and we both collapsed onto the bed, covered in sweat and unable to breathe.

We laid therein silence for several minutes before Dylan turned toward me. I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes, and tried to keep myself from smiling.

“Well,” he said, still trying to catch his breath, “that was…”

Oh shit. He thought it was terrible. He had an awful time. He regrets it.

“Fucking phenomenal,” he finished.

I let out a sigh of relief, happy to know that he felt the exact same way about it as I did. Although, now that my body had started to calm down, I realized that perhaps I did regret it. All of the arguments I had made before still stood. He was still Ella’s brother. He was still a complete douchebag. And I still didn’t like him. But after that, I might be able to forgive him for ruining the night.

“I’m going to hop in the shower,” he said as he rolled out of bed.

I pulled the sheet up over me, suddenly very self-conscious about the fact that I was completely exposed in front of him.

“Feel free to join me if you want,” he said with a wink as he disappeared into the bathroom.

At first I was a bit scandalized at the proposition, and I started to stand up and search for my clothes. Dylan poked his head out of the bathroom, the corners of his lips curling up into a smile.

“Well, are you coming?”

I hesitated. I wanted to say no. I wanted to leave and never see him again. But how could I say no to that ass. And those lips. I was weak. I followed him into the bathroom, and he immediately pulled me into the shower with him.

His hands massaged my breasts as the warm water fell over us. He kissed me more gently than he had before, but there was just as much desire behind it. I slowly moved to my knees and wrapped my hand around Dylan’s erection.

He grumbled with desire, and I couldn’t believe that I was being so forward with him. It usually took a lot more persuasion to get me into this position. I pulled him into my mouth and his hands clenched my shoulders as he gasped.

An hour later,with my hair still wet, I tiptoed out of Dylan’s suite and into the hallway. I took the stairs down to the 26th floor and stopped for a moment outside of our suite. It was quiet inside. Maybe they hadn’t come back yet.

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