Authors: J. Daniels
“So you’re thirty-two today,” I state, sucking the batter that has splashed up onto my knuckle off with a soft moan.
“I am.” My eyes go to his and he winks. “I’m six years older than you now. Does that bother you?”
His question baffles me, so I decide to really give it some thought. Our age difference doesn’t bother me at all. If he was ten years older than me, I wouldn’t care. Scrunching up my face and thinking hard, I see his grin widen as he waits for me, a soft breathy laugh escaping him. I shake my head. “Nah, but that’s mainly because you act half your age.” His eyebrow arches. “Besides, I have a thing for older men.” Tipping the bowl, I pour the cake batter into his one and only baking dish and shuffle it to even out the distribution.
He hops down and comes up behind me, his hands spreading across my stomach. “Do you? I had no idea,” he says as he pulls my hair over one shoulder and kisses down my neck. I close my eyes and grip the baking dish tightly.
Lord, this man knows how to wind me up in no time.
“Well, I have a thing for you,” he growls into my ear, his hands sliding up the front of my dress and molding to my breasts. My head falls back against his shoulder and I groan. “I need to put this in the oven.” He grumbles in protest but finally steps back, allowing me to place the dish into the oven and set the timer.
“Okay, birthday boy, you’ve got twelve minutes to play with me until it’s ready.” I turn to see his wicked grin and he wastes little time, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the living room. Stopping in front of the couch, he pulls me into his arms and runs his hands up my spine as his face drops to bring our lips together. He opens my mouth with his and snakes his tongue around mine, coaxing me to move with him and I obey. My hands fumble with his tie, loosening it and dropping it to the floor as his mouth assaults mine, teasing and tasting every inch of me. I feel his arm muscles flex around me and then the sound of a loud rip comes from behind me as the fabric of my dress is torn from my body.
“Did you just… I can’t believe you just did that.” I spin around quickly and step back and out of his arms, seeing the handful of material clutched between both fists before he drops it at his feet.
Are you fucking serious
? “Dick. Do you have any idea how much that dress cost me?” I step into him and deliver a sharp poke to his chest with my finger.
Yeah. That’ll show him.
He cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes at me. “If you say more than five dollars, you got ripped off. That thing was the size of a handkerchief.” His arms wrap me up and he tosses me onto the couch like I’m some sort of rag doll. I yelp in protest as the cold leather hits my skin, but am only momentarily chilled before his body is pressing against mine, warming me instantly.
“You are ridiculous. What the hell am I supposed to wear now when I leave?” I grumble between kisses. His mouth meets mine the moment he relaxes down on me. I moan as his tongue dips into my mouth, delivering long strokes against mine and filling me with his minty flavor. “Fuck, I’m so mad at you.” I grunt as he laughs against me, moving his lips down my neck and licking a trail to the top of my breasts.
Stay mad, Dylan. Don’t give in. Don’t lose it. That was a two hundred and fifty dollar dress.
“I love it when you’re mad at me. You’re so fucking sexy; I can barely contain myself here.” He molds his hands over my breasts and pulls my bra down, slipping a nipple into his mouth as I grab his head. “Mmmm, these are always on my mind. So fucking beautiful.” He licks and sucks me, drawing loud moans from my mouth. Brushing his nose against the mark next to my left nipple, which is slightly faded, he sucks on the small patch of skin. My hands grip his hair and hold him against me. I hate that his marks are fading on me and am more than happy to let him bring them back out. Moving to my other breast, he freshens the mark there and then plants a soft kiss to it before he glances up at me. His smirk makes me grunt.
“You’re an asshole,” I groan as he moves lower, licking and nibbling at my stomach. Wrapping my legs tightly around his waist, I push him up and grip his dress shirt with both hands tightly before I rip it apart, tiny buttons flying out in every direction. My hands push it off his big shoulders and down his arms, pulling his T-shirt quickly over his head.
“Impatient much? We have all night, love,” he says as he works his belt, sitting back between my legs.
“You started it.”
All night?
My hands stretch out and rub his ripped chest, brushing down his stomach along the tight muscles.
God, I love touching this man.
My index finger plays in the patch of hair that runs below his belly button
.
“What do you want for your birthday?”
He reaches into his pants, pulls himself out and leans forward, rubbing himself along the length of my wet panties. I groan and dig my nails into his back.
Wasn’t I mad about something?
“You in my bed,” he says against my mouth. Our lips are close, our heavy breathing mixing together and I tremble against him, his words bringing out my fears. “Nothing has to change. This is still just sex. I just need to have you in there.”
Seconds, minutes go by and he stills against me, waiting for my response. I don’t know what to do. I want to do this for him, for me, more than anything. Being in his bed, surrounded by his smell and imagining what it would be like to stay there with him is a thought that is constantly running through my mind. But can I do this? He said nothing has to change, but can I keep it from changing for me? I think long and hard and make my decision. Yes, I can. Because this is worth it. He is worth it. I close my eyes tightly and nod, hearing a small sound escape him and I’m quickly lifted to my feet. We round the couch together when the oven alarms, causing me to dash in and pull the cake out.
“Jesus, you should only be allowed to wear
that
in my kitchen,” he says as I insert a knife quickly into the top and pull it out clean. Glancing down at my attire, I smile at him as I meet him in the dining room where he stands waiting for me. My hand is placed in his as he leads me down the hallway and opens the last door on the left. Stepping aside for me, I walk ahead of him and take in my surroundings.
His bedroom is big and spacious, containing a large four-poster bed with one nightstand on each side, a tall dresser and a chair in the corner next to a small bookshelf. I scurry over to it and glance at his reading material, all educational and way the hell out of my depth. “Wow, you’re a bigger nerd than I thought.” Pulling out a massive textbook with the words
Corporate Accounting
on the front, I sit in the chair and flip through it, feeling his eyes on me as he moves into the room. The sound of his clothing removal catches my attention and I glance up at him from under my lashes. He is now standing completely naked and staring at me, holding out his hand and arching his brow.
“I’m reading,” I mutter through a grin and am quickly yanked from my chair, book crashing to the floor in the process as he lifts me up and tosses me on the bed. The smell of him hits me like a truck and I whimper.
Crap, this is going to wreck me.
Wrapping his hand around the back of me, I am moved up the bed so my head is resting on his pillow, his body settling between my legs. I watch intently as he slides my panties down and tosses them, leaving my garter on and tracing the clips with his fingers.
“So fucking sexy,” he says against my thigh, kissing the skin along my garter. “You’re so soft, love, and you always shake when I’m right here.” His lips brush against the skin of my inner thigh and I gasp, trembling on cue. “I love how I do that to you.”
I quickly remove my bra and reach out for him. “Come here. I need you.” I grip his shoulders and pull him up as he shifts above me, pushing straight into me in one quick motion.
“I’ve dreamed of this. You, in my bed. Fuck, Dylan.” His words ring through my ears as he strokes me with long slow movements. Pulling almost all the way out before he glides back in. My legs tighten around him and I pull his mouth to mine, needing his kiss, needing his breath on me and in me.
“Me, too. Oh, God.”
He groans loudly and I pull his lip into my mouth, dragging my teeth along his skin. My hands are brought over my head and held above me with one of his. His eyes burn into mine with such raw emotion that it rips through me, crippling me. I turn my head to break the contact.
“Look at me,” he grunts, his hips thrusting hard and fast, slamming against mine and pushing me up into the headboard. His grip around my wrist tightens and I arch off the bed, pushing my chest against his. “Dylan, I need to see you.” I turn back to him, giving him what he wants and letting myself feel it. Heat spreads across my skin, radiating from deep within me as his free hand holds the side of my face. “Don’t pull away from me,” he pleads, but even if he hadn’t said the words, his eyes are telling me the same thing. They show every emotion, every unspoken thought. I am completely lost in his green stare, completely lost in him. Everything about him holds on to me, keeping me right with him in this moment and there isn’t a single part of me that wants to pull away, that will ever want to pull away. I can do this. I’m strong enough for this.
My body is quickly on the brink, undeniably responsive to his and I want him there with me. I pull my lip into my mouth and clench around him, seeing his eyes widen and halting his thrusts.
“Holy fuck.” His eyes clamp shut and I do it again, contracting my muscles and feeling him react with a jerk. “Jesus Christ. Love, if you keep doing that...” And I do. I do it again, this time holding it, and his eyes open and lock onto mine.
I clench around him once more and he grunts loudly before he starts to move. I moan and bring my hips up to meet his charges, giving him deeper entry and pulling a low groan straight out of him.
“Come with me, love.” His mouth comes down and devours mine, pulling my tongue into his and sucking hard and deep. I come fast, my body shaking and pulsing, my screams swallowed by his mouth as he gives me his release. Warmth runs through me, clinging to me, to us. Our bodies fit perfectly together and I pray he’ll never get tired of me, of this. Because I never will.
Our breathing steadies as he stays on top of me, pressing my body into his mattress. He’s heavy, but not uncomfortable and I find the weight to be the perfect amount of pressure against my body. My fingers trail lightly along his back as his hot breath bursts across my neck. My touch deepens and I rub his hard muscles, working up to his neck and firmly digging in. I giggle at his tiny moans of pleasure. He loves it when I touch him, and right now, that’s what I want to do. I wiggle underneath him and his gorgeous face turns up to gaze at me.
“Let me up. I want to give you a birthday massage.”
He quickly and with great enthusiasm pushes himself back onto his knees and allows me to move around him. Grabbing a few tissues off his nightstand, I’m wiped clean of his release and the trash is quickly discarded. As he settles back down on his stomach, I straddle his waist and admire the view. He has the sexiest back I’ve ever seen, broad and built, but not overly muscular. I hate big bulky guys, and Reese has the perfect muscle to leanness ratio. After giving one quick smack to his perfectly sculpted ass, I begin rubbing up and down his back, gauging his reaction to find the amount of pressure he wants. A few soft moans indicate I’m pressing him just how he likes, and I move to his shoulders and start working him.
“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” I say, wanting to find out every little detail I can. Reese seems really open after sex and I’m going to use that to my advantage.
He moans, “Mmmm, I hate cats.” His muffled answer makes me belt out a laugh.
“That does not even count. Come on, Carroll, you can do better than that. I totally hate cats too, though. They’re so smug.” My hands work his upper arms, pushing and pulling his muscles until they loosen. His breathing is peaceful and steady underneath me.
“I don’t know; it’s hard to think when you’re touching me like this. Why don’t you just ask me a question?” He turns his head and rests on his cheek, eyes closed with his long lashes brushing his cheekbone.
Jesus, I would kill for lashes like that. Why do guys get the best lashes?
“Dylan.”
“I’m thinking.” I have questions, so many questions. But am I brave enough to ask them? I bite my lip and decide to start slow. “Do you hook up with a lot of girls at weddings?” That isn’t too bad. It’s not like I asked him how many girls he’s slept with, which I
am
very curious about. His eyes open for a moment and then he closes them again.
“I’m not sure what classifies as a lot, but yes, I’ve hooked up with women at weddings before.” He moans as I press my thumbs deeply into his upper back. “I’m sure I wasn’t your first either.”
“Yes, you were,” I blurt out, seeing his eyes pop open again. He blinks rapidly before he flips under me, holding me still so I’m now straddling his stomach. His hands run up my thighs and play with my garter as I begin rubbing his chest. “Well, you were my first slutty wedding sex. I’ve had a few drunken make out sessions at weddings before.” I haven’t, that’s a total lie. I’ve actually never done anything with a stranger at a wedding besides dance with them. But the way Reese is staring up at me right now, eyes full of wonder, I feel the need to not sound like such an angelic virgin hovering over this experienced player. I clear my throat and massage down his arms, seeing his eyes close again and giving me the opportunity to stare while he isn’t watching me. “Have you called other girls ‘love’?”