by Marian Tee
“Then we’ll leave—”
“Is that it?” Henrietta sneered. “A little girl’s keeping you on a leash now?”
Dylan only raised a brow. “I hope she will.” He glanced at Bree, a look of courteous inquiry on his handsome face. “Will you use a leash later, babe?”
She managed not to gasp, but she couldn’t stop herself from blushing when she realized what he was implying. She also knew it was meant to give her confidence – to let her know that he wasn’t going to let Henrietta’s words ruin things for them.
Bree lifted her a chin. “It depends…” Even though she was still red-faced, she managed to say thoughtfully, “If you’re a good boy, I just might use a leash. And maybe some cuffs, too.”
Even Dylan appeared impressed with her answer. “Promising,” was all he said before pulling her to him and leading the way out of the balcony.
As they took the stairs, she said mildly, “Henrietta’s very angry.” It was an understatement, actually, with the way the supermodel was trying to raise the roof with her curses.
“Let her,” Dylan said in an utterly bored voice.
“Did you bring a car?”
He shook his head.
“I did, so I’ll drive.” She didn’t wait for him to argue and just went straight to the driver’s seat. When he got in the passenger seat next to her, she realized she was nervous about being in such close confines with Dylan.
This was so weird. She had gotten what she wished for, hadn’t she? Dylan had come with her. He had chosen her over Henrietta. So why wasn’t she celebrating? Why did she feel so painfully shy and awkward with him, like nothing had happened between them last night?
“Buckle up,” she said as she reversed the car into the highway.
“Just drive,” was all he said.
The answer confused her. Was he angry at her for taking control of the wheel? She turned to her, planning to ask him what his problem was but she yelped instead.
“What are you doing?” Bree demanded in a shriek as he calmly ripped the bottom half of her silk jumpsuit.
“This is fully tinted, right?”
“Yes, but oh my God, what are you doing?” This time, he had completely ripped her panties off, too. She didn’t see it – she wasn’t the type to look away from the road when driving – but she felt it, the cool air brushing against the smooth shaved skin between her legs.
When Dylan calmly pried her thighs apart, Bree’s eyes shot wide open. “Oh my—do not, you mustn’t—don’t you dare—AH!”
His head was between her thighs.
His lips had touched her core.
His tongue was inside her.
And then he was thrusting his tongue in and out of her.
She screamed.
He didn’t stop tonguing her.
And so she couldn’t stop screaming.
Her fingers tightened around the wheel as Dylan kept fucking her in the sweetest and hottest way possible with his mouth. “Dylan,” she whispered.
The undisguised need in her voice made Dylan’s cock throb and he squeezed her thighs in approval.
She understood what he was trying to say and sobbed her pleasure out loud, realizing that he wanted to hear her. “Dylan, Dylan, Dylan.” She chanted his name, sobbed and screamed it, but he didn’t give her the pleasure she was dying for.
When he lifted his head, all he said was, “Drive to the nearest hotel.”
She made a hard turn the moment he said that, having spotted the Aehrenthal Hotel’s easily distinguished façade in the next block.
He laughed even though her quick turn had nearly caused him to knock his head against the dashboard. “Call the hotel.”
“Why?”
“Get them to deliver you a pair of pants in the basement parking.” And then his head was back between her legs, his fingers parting her folds as widely as he could before his tongue slid back in.
“Oooooooooh.” The pleasure was electrifying and she strained towards his mouth in her seat.
“Call now, babe,” he commanded against her skin while playing with her folds, caressing it with his fingers.
She was connected to the hotel’s concierge in an instant. “This is Sabrina Wyle.”
“Good afternoon, Ms. Wyle,” the receptionist from the other end answered in a charming voice. “We are so delighted to hear from you again.”
She took a moment to answer – he had started sucking on her clit and it was destroying her ability to think…completely.
“I…ahh…I’d like to order a pair of pants – any fabric – from your boutique – size 2…” She let out a gasp as he thrust one finger in.
“Ma’am?”
“Size 2 please.” Bree bit her lip hard as he thrust another finger in. Her hips started to move with their own volition. “I, uhh, had an accident and I…”
Another gasp – impossible not to when he had bit her clit.
“We understand, ma’am.” The receptionist’s voice had become extremely soothing and Bree knew the other woman probably thought she was so shallow she was panicking about a wardrobe malfunction.
“Where shall we meet you?”
“I’m at your basement parking…NOW!” It ended with a shout, her hips jerking wildly on the seat as Dylan shoved his fingers in and out of her with greater force.
The phone call ended as she drove the car into the first free parking space she found. Bree collapsed against the seat. “Dylan.” Her head tossed and turned on the car’s headrest.
Smiling at the way her voice trembled with desire, Dylan slowly pulled his fingers out, chuckling when she reacted by moaning in protest and trying to trap his fingers inside her as she squeezed her legs closed.
“Sssh…it’s not over…I just need to get your pants.”
She reluctantly let his fingers go, and she moaned again when she saw him licking his fingers dry.
“Mmm…” He closed his eyes in pleasure at the taste and scent of her.
She moaned another time. That was so seriously hot!
Someone knocked at her window. The concierge had obviously done their research for them to have known which car was hers – something to be expected from the famous Aehrenthal customer service.
“Keep thinking of me, babe,” Dylan said wickedly before stepping out of the car. In moments, he had taken the package from the attendant and tossed it inside the car through his side.
While waiting for Bree to dress, he instructed the employee to prepare a suite for them.
Her fingers shook so badly it took her several tries to slide her legs into the perfect-fitting pair of silk trousers. When she came out, Dylan was waiting by her side.
This time, he was the one who stretched his hand out.
This time, she took it with a dazed smile.
They were quiet as they made their way to the 18th floor, the sexual tension between them pulsing like a huge and powerful beacon.
When they reached their suite, she let out a little shriek as Dylan swept her up in his arms the moment they stepped past the door. Kicking it shut, he swiftly made his way to the bedroom and gently lowered her to the floor.
“STRIP.” His voice brooked no argument and, laughing shakily, she did as asked, her fingers busy even as her gaze stayed on him. Every inch he revealed of his magnificent body made her mouth drier and drier. How was it possible that this beautiful and sexy man loved her? It was just so hard to believe, and yet here he was, his gaze burning with ferocious desire for her.
He looked like…he looked like he was dying to eat her, and dear God, but she so wanted him to eat her, too!
They were fully naked about the same time, and he went to the bed, shocking Bree when the first thing he did was tear several strips of fabric from the topmost layer of bed covers.
“What?”
He sat down, back against the bed’s elegantly carved headboard, and stretched his long sexy legs out. Dylan nodded at the strips of fabric. “Prove to me that you meant your words earlier.”
Again, she gasped, “WHAT?”
“Restrain me.”
She blinked several times. She understood what he meant, but it didn’t mean it was going to be easy. Restrain him? That was like restraining a lion and taking the role of a trainer without any professional lessons.
“But—”
Dylan gave her a look under his lashes. “Do it, babe.”
Swallowing, she gathered all the courage she could and made her way to the bed. Kneeling by his side, she reached for a strip and tied his hand to one bed post. When she leaned sideways in front of him to do the same thing to his other hand, Dylan moved forward and caught her nipple with his mouth.
She almost fell on top of him. “Dylan!”
Laughing, he started to suckle on her nipple and she sighed, moaned, and shook, unable to believe how so easily turned on she was by everything Dylan did.
When he released her, she was dazed.
“Finish the job, babe.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” She hurriedly finished tying his other hand even though her head was still reeling from the pleasure of his mouth on her breast.
When she was down, she leaned back against her haunches. “Now, what?”
“Sheath me.”
“Oh, umm, yeah, that, too.” She bent down to take a condom from his wallet – she had long known he kept several of them in stock at all times.
Her new position presented him this time with her cute little bum, and with a grin Dylan leaned forward to lick the tiny hole.
Bree almost tumbled out of the bed with a little shriek. “Don’t do that!” Condom in hand, Bree gave him a disapproving frown, which Dylan returned with just about the sexiest grin in the world.
Her heartbeat tripled its rate. “Unfair,” she mumbled to herself even as she tore the condom out of its packet. She hesitated.
“Go on,” he invited her huskily.
Trying to think past her still-speeding heartbeat, she reached for his engorged cock, the feel of it immense and powerful in her hands. She sheathed him carefully, wondering at the same time how it would feel to have him enter her without a condom.
“Soon,” Dylan said over her bent head, making Bree look up at him in surprise.
“I know what you’re thinking, babe, and the answer is soon.”
Oh.
Oh.
Did he know what she was starting to think because of what he said? She was starting to think about wedding bells and babies, that was what. Did he know that?
The possibility that Dylan knew the direction her thoughts was taking and was letting her think that way made her even more dazed with happiness.
When she was done sheathing him, she looked at Dylan questioningly again.
He smiled, answering simply, “Take me.”
She sputtered.
“You can do it,” he said calmly. “Just ride me as you would a stallion.”
Bree sputtered even more at that. “You’d really like to think of yourself as a stallion, don’t you?”
“As I’m as well-hung as any of them are, I do not see anything wrong with it.”
The words had her wet, enough to almost send her into a climax. That arrogance of his was yet another one of her weaknesses, and Bree had a feeling she’d always be vulnerable to it.
“I’m waiting, babe.” Dylan had barely finished speaking when Bree was straddling him, her hand on his shoulder as she slowly impaled herself on his cock.
“Yes.” He spoke between clenched teeth. It was so fucking good he nearly tore free from his bindings in his need to hold her to him, but Dylan managed to keep himself under control. He wanted her to hunger for his domination, wanted her to feel how it would be if she did not have him commanding her in bed.
“Ooooooooh…” The feel of him inside her was so different now, so much more consuming and raw it made Bree wonder how she would possibly survive more of this on a regular basis. It would kill her, it really would!
She started to ride him, at first clumsily but eagerly and then later on more knowledgeably. Dylan did his best to guide her as he lifted his hips to meet her downward thrusts. Soon, she was clutching his shoulders tightly, buckling against him with total abandon, head tossed back in pleasure, her hair flying free behind her.
“DYLAN!” She screamed his name. So close, so close, she thought with a whimper. But she couldn’t have it…how could she have it?
“What is it, babe?” he asked teasingly in a slightly hoarse voice, knowing what she needed but wanting to hear it.
She colored. “Dylan…”
“Come on, babe.”
“I want you! I want you to take me,” she sobbed out. “I want you to take control of me—” She ended with a shriek as he tore free from his bindings. In the next moment, she was on her back, her legs in the air, and his cock sliding inside her like it was home again.
“DYLAN!” She screamed as he started thrusting into her, harder, more passionately and wildly. It was so hard to breathe now, with so much pleasure to contend with, but she didn’t care. All she wanted was the pleasure that only Dylan could give her…but wasn’t.
She looked at him with frustrated desire. Why wasn’t he giving it to her? Why?
“Dylan, please,” she begged, pounding his back. “I need…”
“Who do you need?” he demanded.
“You!”
“And who do you want?”
“Always, always you,” she cried out, wrapping her thighs around his waist, wanting Dylan to drive his cock into her so deeply he would reach her womb.
The words sent tremors through Dylan’s large and powerful body. It tempted him to push them both over the edge, but he reined in his desire, knowing it was not yet the right time.
Cupping her face to keep it from moving, Dylan demanded, “Who do you love?”
Her eyes became wet with tears of love and frustration. “You. I’ve loved you for so long that now that you’re here, I…”
He didn’t let her finish. He simply fucked her hard and long like they both wanted, fucked her until she was incoherent and unable to bind them even more tightly to each other with her sweet, incredible words.
She came with just one thrust, and Dylan’s cum mixed with hers inside Bree’s body, making her sob as each thrust amplified the pleasure of their union.
I love you, I love you so much, I love you, I love you, I love you.
She wanted to say the words over and over but knew it would only terrify Dylan. The need to keep the words back hurt even though she knew Dylan thought he was doing the right thing for both of them.
Dylan slowly realized that his naked chest was getting wet with her quiet tears, and as he ran a hand over Bree’s back, he felt it moving in an effort to keep her tears at bay.
Fuck.
His heart clenched at the hot warmth of Bree’s tears. “I’m sorry, babe,” he whispered, ashamed of the way he kept hurting her and his inability to stop doing it.
She cried harder. “I know.” It was so hard to speak.
Dylan said with difficulty, “I love you.”
She closed her eyes, the regret in his voice making her hurt worse. “I know.” But she also knew now that love might not be enough to keep them together. There were just so many wounds her heart could take before it stopped healing.
Chapter Eight
Bree woke up with her heart in her throat, wondering if it would be another morning after that she needed to forget. But when she turned to her side, the fear in her chest eased and her throat started to work as she saw Dylan’s naked form lying next to her.
His face was peaceful in his slumber, and she was tempted to touch it. But she didn’t, not wanting to wake him up.
Love you, she mouthed silently, knowing he would not want to hear it. Dylan would want to feel the words instead.
She tiptoed out of the room, wanting to surprise Dylan with breakfast in bed. In minutes, she had groceries delivered to his suite and was working on pancakes and omelets. After
making sure his coffee was just right, she got everything on the breakfast tray and made her way back to the room.
But the bed was empty when she came back and Bree lowered the tray on the glass table next to the windows.
The door to the shower opened and Dylan came out, looking jaw-droppingly beautiful and heart-stoppingly sexy with his entire naked body on display except for a small towel wrapped low around his hips.
“Babe, I’ve got to go. The rest of the band’s here for an urgent recording session and our publicist also thought we should have a fans meet after.”
She tried her best to smile as she inched to the left, trying to hide the breakfast tray behind her back. “That’s okay. Can I go with you instead?”
Something in Bree’s voice was off, but before he could remark on it he finally noticed the sweet scent of coffee and pancakes in the air. With a frown, he moved to the side and saw the breakfast tray Bree was trying to hide.
It was exactly like what his mother used to prepare for his father, and later on, what his father used to prepare for…them.
Just like that, all the beautiful memories he and Bree had made last night were instantly wiped away.
“Thank you, darling.” The smile on his mother’s face was pretty. If only she was not smiling because she was happy that Dylan and his father had prepared breakfast for her and the sleeping naked stranger on her bed.
He could only stare at his mother, unable to speak.
His father cuffed him on the head from behind, hard enough for him to cry out. “Answer your mother, boy!”
Tears choking his voice, Dylan said, “Y-you’re welcome, M-Mom.”
His mother’s smile became benign. “You’re such a sweet child,” she cooed. And then the smile disappeared, and Dylan knew she had completely forgotten about him. She turned to the man next to her. “Luis, wake up, we have breakfast in bed.”
“Shut up. I’m sleeping.” The man hit her hard on the face, strong enough to knock her out of the bed.
Dylan wanted to hit the stranger, but he did not because he knew his mother wouldn’t want him to. He did not attack the other man because his father wouldn’t want him to.
He looked up at his father, who smiled down at him with approval.
