by Stahl, Shey
I was practically panting as his fingers ever so slowly dip below the waistband of my panties, just a few more inches. In the meantime, Dylan was still making steady strokes against my thigh, the movement of his hips becoming aggressive and desperate. I knew how he felt, or should feel if he was awake. That urge just cling to whatever force was driving us toward blissful release was so strong I could hardly imagine how I lived without it for so long.
Dylan’s hand didn’t move any further south but his thigh moved again, as did mine and that’s all it took for me.
“Oh shit.” I squealed through clenched lips and closed eyes as tide after tide of pure ecstasy ripped through my body. The movement of my hips became irregular as I rode out the ripples consuming me.
I had been missing out on so much!
“Oh my,” I released in a long breath I’d been holding through my mind blowing rapture as every part of my body relaxed into a lazy, limp state. That was…there are no words to describe how that was.
“Brown eyes?” A breathy voice left my body rigid in fear.
Dylan sat up on his elbow and looked down at me; his messy hair tussled by sleep, staring at me questioningly. He frowned in confusion taking in my appearance, my cheeks burning at an intensity it never knew before.
His lips were split by an enormous yawn as he stretched his arms above his head, his defined chest heaving lungs full of oxygen. “Hey,” he offered with a small smile and watched me warily.
“Hi.” I squeaked in dread wiping my hair that stuck to my forehead due to the sweaty exertion.
Oh please tell me you didn’t wake up…during… Please tell me you don’t know. Please, please, please. I internally beseeched, sounding much the same as a few moments earlier when I didn’t want him to stop.
The memory made the blush on my cheeks spread rapidly to my neck and chest. My lips even felt hot.
“Are you okay?” he asked with a small frown pulling between his eyebrows.
I watched him suspiciously, looking for any signs that would indicate that he knew what I just did. The fear of being caught was smothering my throat and my blood was coursing through my veins causing a dull ringing noise in my ears.
He shrugged lazily and rubbed his abs absentmindedly with one hand. My eyes followed the movement watching his body. The same body I used for my own pleasure a second ago. I felt my mouth turn dry in guilt. Unwillingly my eyes moved lower and saw that he was still excited. I quickly looked up to find another confused frown on his face before he lowered his eyes.
Dylan chuckled lifting the blanket higher to cover him.
He said nothing but stared at the ceiling and then looked at the clock. Part of me was starting to believe he had truly been asleep through all that and I relaxed slightly settling back into the bed.
Dylan sighed dramatically and rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “Are you hungry?”
“Sure.” I watched him watching me with glassy eyes, staring at me pensively.
He frowned deeply in response and this time I couldn’t help the giggle escaping my mouth. Turning to face me, he never broke eye contact.
There was a stampede of butterfly wings in my stomach as I stared at him dumbstruck. Cupping my face, his thumb slowly moved over my cheek and stroked gently.
“So beautiful,” he mumbled thoughtfully as his eyes scanned my face and stopped at my bottom lip, which I was biting unintentionally. He moved his thumb to my mouth and gently pried my lip from between my teeth slowly running his thumb over my bottom lip in a caress.
“You do that when you’re nervous, did you know that?” He asked gently as he lifted his eyes to mine. “Do I make you nervous, brown eyes?” I swallowed thickly as his eyes seemingly darkened and the intensity of his stare multiplied. He was looking at me, unblinking, and my whole body was buzzing with a feeling of exhilaration I had never felt before with the heat of his stare. Everything about Dylan was drawing me in, making me push further and further to see what would happen.
“No, you don’t make me nervous,” I said holding his stare.
What I really wanted to say was, “Yes you make me nervous. I just dry humped your leg!”
I didn’t say that of course. My voice was gone.
Dylan dropped his hand from my face and rolled onto his back.
Staring at the ceiling blankly, I realized how Dylan had no idea how much power he was starting to have over me. It excited and frustrated the hell out of me. I left home to see who I was but now, I was so fucking wrapped up in Dylan it was infuriating.
“Brown eyes,” Dylan whispered.
I turned to look at him with a start and found his head turned in my direction. Swinging his arm heavily over my torso, my breath caught at his unexpected movement and I immediately turned rigid in his grip. He slowly moved his head to my shoulder and rested it there, breathing heavily into my neck. “I was awake,” he whispered so softly in my ear that I needed to ask him to repeat himself.
“I said,” he drawled, causing a shiver to run up my spine as his soft lips grazed the shell of my ear, “I was awake.”
My heart was hammering in my chest as I considered his words.
“This morning,” he breathed huskily into my ear, and to emphasize his confession, he slowly moved the hand he had draped over me and placed it gently between the juncture of my legs. My hips automatically moved against his hand partly in recognition of the want boiling inside me and partly in shock. I gasped audibly, blood coursing through my ears and filling the silence of the room with a faint hum.
“Damn it.” I breathed in absolute mortification and pleasure as Dylan decided to move his hand once, before lifting his hand back to my side.
“Mmm-hmm,” he nodded and lifted his head slightly just as his hand grabbed the back of my neck firmly, turning my face toward him. I stared at him in silence unable to form a coherent thought not to mention defend myself for my slutty actions. He licked his lips slowly, his eyes hooded for the same reason I found myself panting beneath his stare. Here it was, that spark between us that we couldn’t ignore. It didn’t matter how hard we tried, it was there and unavoidable.
“You owe me,” he murmured before he crashed his lips to mine. His lips were harsh and yet incredibly soft as he smothered me with his passion. He pulled back before I had a chance to kiss him back, or push him away. And then he was swinging his legs around the side of the bed and smirking over his shoulder. “Let’s eat.”
I pulled a Dylan move bringing the blanket over my head and groaned.
8. Tell me a secret – Bailey Gray
After that morning and my dry humping sleeping Dylan, he spent most of the day teasing me as we made it to Oklahoma City to stay the night. I started off being embarrassed by it but Dylan had a way of making me feel comfortable about it, despite the teasing, by whispering all the dirty things he was thinking with his eyes closed. That morning, cuddled up against him in the seat, you would have never known that just a few days ago we were still in high school, not talking, living separate lives. Now, we were here, somewhere between Oklahoma City and Wichita telling each other things I never dreamed of.
Two wrong turns later and a heated conversation about which Chevelle song was better, we agreed to disagree.
When we found a hotel, he seemed worked up. After dinner, and my own teasing, Dylan needed something I knew that much. He said it took all he could do not to throw me on the hood of his car and make my fantasy come true.
“Brown eyes, I want to touch you,” he murmured covering my body with his as soon as we were inside the room. “And I want my eyes open this time.”
“Please,” I said arching back into him, feeling how much he wanted it, too.
We kissed, slow and deep and then sometimes faster, sloppy-good kissing that I loved with him. We laughed when our teeth knock together, but there was nothing funny about how he reacted to me. I didn’t feel like he was racing for the finish line, like he just wanted to get off. He was touching me like he was exploring,
taking in every curve and sensitive spot. I was beginning to understand what he meant when he told me that anything we did together wasn’t, in his mind, a one-time thing.
His fingers traced the curve of my side until they were at the waistband of my jeans. We both stopped, just for a second. I was already aching. His mouth went to my ear; his fingers traced the skin above my jeans, making me shiver.
“Is this okay?” he whispered.
I nodded taking his hand and we unbuttoned and then unzipped my jeans together. His breath got shorter watching what we were doing.
“I think you should just take these off,” he said, his heart thumping heavily against my back.
I laughed a little, looking over my shoulder. He was right there, smiling, sure of himself, and I took his bottom lip between mine, just to taste, before shimmying out of my jeans. Dylan helped, skimming one broad palm down the side of my thigh, until I can kicked them the rest of the way off.
“So fucking sexy...” he trailed off, his voice thick.
He looked down at me with this intensity, but his smile was playful. “Has anyone ever touched you like this?”
“No,” I squeaked out.
“Could you ever let someone else touch you like this, right here?”
Shaking my head, I watched his eyes drink in every inch of me.
I didn’t know what to say, so I kissed him instead. Eric was always so quiet when we were together and outside of kissing and the occasional moan of pleasure, I never had any indication that he enjoyed our kissing or innocent touches. We never talked like this. He was fast, too. He touched, but he never teased like Dylan was doing now, with his hand moving back up my thigh, fingers circling my hipbone and then moving down to trace the edge of my underwear. I never made the kind of noises with Eric that came out of my mouth when Dylan touched me.
And I never, ever, took Eric’s hand and guided it to where I needed it to be, but I was doing that now with Dylan because I needed him to touch me or I was going to die. Dramatic, I know but it was the truth, or so I thought it was at the time.
“It was so fucking hard to keep my eyes closed last night,” he said against my neck, rough, needing.
We watched together, his palm sliding down my stomach, his fingers disappearing beneath black lace until he found me, so ready for him. “Why did you do that?”
“I didn’t want you to feel embarrassed and I knew you’d never had one before.”
I only saw his face for a second before my eyes closed right then, but I’ll remember it forever. He was looking at me like he was getting as much pleasure out of this as I was, although I don’t know how that was possible. He was looking at me like I was the most beautiful girl, like I was something he had never seen before, and that was why Dylan Wade had so much power over me. It didn’t matter that he was the type of guy that I could forget about myself with because he treated me better than I would have treated myself.
“Jesus,” he whispered, almost to himself, as his fingers slipped further down and inside and my knees opened to let him touch me more. He was so good at this and I imagined how many girls he has done this with. Probably more than I cared to know about.
My thighs started shaking, tense with how nervous I was that he was awake and looking at me now. Dylan noticed and hesitated. “Are you—?”
“Don’t stop,” I didn’t even recognize my own voice. I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me, his lips parted, his eyes darkened.
He didn’t stop. He kept talking, murmuring how beautiful I was and how good I felt and if I liked this? And all I could do was remember to breathe and say his name and when I was so, so close, I told him and his mouth crashed against mine. He was rubbing and stroking with his talented fingers and then I was panting and crying out into his mouth. And then, then I was silent because I was falling apart and it was too intense for words. My fingers curled into his hair and his fingers curled into me holding me close, slowing his pace to ride wave after wave with me until I was nothing but a shaking, and gasping mess in his arms. We stayed that way for a few minutes while I waited for my breath to get normal again, for my heart to slow down.
“So much better seeing it firsthand this time,” he said finally, his voice soft.
Instead of replying right away, I climbed on top of him, straddling his body with my legs, kissing him. “Thank you.” The words are on my lips, on his lips, as I whispered them between kisses and in the middle of them.
He pressed his head back into the pillow, looking at me through half-closed lids. “Anytime,” he replied, trying to sound jokingly nonchalant, but his voice is strained. I could tell he would be okay ending things right now but he didn’t want to. He didn’t expect more, didn’t push and I was thankful for that.
I could feel his want, his need as he pressed against my thigh. Every time I moved, his hips involuntarily sought to follow that movement.
Scooting backward, I made my way down his body. The muscles in his abdomen contracted as he braced himself on his arms and my hands traced the lines of those muscles.
“Hey, where are you going?” he asked watching me.
I leaned back so that my ass rested on his thighs. My fingers moved to the waistband of his jeans. “Is this okay?”
Dylan’s eyes were dark but he didn’t respond. I could hear the rain outside the hotel room growing more intense as I unbuttoned his jeans. He raised his hips off the bed, assisting me as I pulled them and his boxers down and off his legs. They fell to the floor at the foot of my bed and all I could hear was the sound of his breath and mine and the thud of my heart that was surely expanded in my chest after he had made me feel so good, made me want him even more than I ever thought possible.
Watching me, still, his arms propping him up on his elbows I glanced at him one more time before I touched him there, for the first time, with my hand.
Relaxing against the bed, Dylan sighed when my hand stroked him once. Nothing was said, he needed relief and I knew that only I had no idea how to do it. “Is this what I do?” I asked with my head buried against his chest and shoulder not watching his reaction in fear.
Dylan moaned slightly lifting his hips to meet my strokes. “So good, fuck, I needed this so bad.” His hand that was around my shoulder held me close, the other one stayed resting on the bed at his side, gripping the sheets.
When I finally looked, I watched the movement of my hand on him and the way his body was flexing and contracting, wanting and needing. It felt good to be giving him the same pleasure he gave me, reciprocating those amazing sensations I had just felt. More than anything, it felt good that he wasn’t pushing me away and that finally, we were doing something we wanted and not stopping just because he thought we needed to.
The noises he made mirrored the ones that I made not long ago and I knew I was doing something right. The corners of my lips pull upward with that knowledge. I had absolutely no experience in this but you’d be amazed what you can find on YouTube.
His hands stayed gripped on the sheets next to him, but he said my name repeatedly and it felt like he was touching me all over. I loved that I was making him feel this way.
It wasn’t long after I started that his body tensed. He said nothing but I felt his body become rigid, his breath gasping and then all of a sudden his hips jerked a few times and then I felt a warm sensation on my hands.
Dylan laughed shaking his head; my eyes were wide judging his reaction and hoping I did that right. “You didn’t have to do that.” His hand that was on the bed ran down the front of his face before resting on his stomach. “I’m glad you did though, I was going crazy.”
Dylan got in the shower after that and I joined him which was slightly weird but we made it quick because he said if he wasn’t careful I’d be pressed against the shower wall with my legs around waist.
I didn’t argue.
Afterward we stayed in bed, wrapped and tangled, and mostly quiet, as the room got darker and darker and the rain settled into a steady patter. The
silence was welcomed.
Shortly before we decided to sleep, I was so thirsty I decided to sneak to the vending machines down the hall but couldn’t find my shirt so I reached for Dylan’s flannel beside the bed. It was too big but I loved the way it made me feel when it draped over my shoulders.
“You look good wearing that.” His hand shot out from the blanket and rubbed my leg below the edge of the flannel.
I giggled squirming as it tickled. “I look like a lumberjack’s wife.”
Dylan chuckled, the sound deep and groggy before he rolled back over and pulled the blanket back over his head.
I don’t know how many different ways it was possible to want and need someone, but however many there are, I wanted and needed Dylan in all of them. At the vending machine, I got two bottles of water and a Pepsi along with a Hershey’s candy bar I knew Dylan had a slight obsession.
When I got back to the room, Dylan was still on the bed, the blanket draped over his lower half, his chest revealed. My eyes found his tattoos, examining their beauty.
When I sat back on the bed, I handed him a bottle of water and his candy bar. He smiled a crooked alluring smile and reached for both. Settling the bottle on the bed and the candy bar in his lap, his hand rose to touch my cheek, thoughtful, deciding, and speaking words he wanted to know. “Why did you come with me?”
Ah yes, the magic question. The question I’d wanted to ask him since we left four days ago.
Why? Why did you ask me, why did I come, what are we doing, what are you doing?
All questions I had.
“Because you asked,” I said leaning into his palm. Dylan smiled and pulled me forward to lay on his chest. The sound of his steady beating heart relaxed me enough to say, “Why did you ask?”
For a moment, a brief deciding moment of decisions and regrets, he thought.
“Sometimes it’s easy to imagine your life can be different. That it could be…” he paused, voice-softening type of pause where the moment changes, light to dark, lies to truth, bared truth. “I wanted you to see there was more to life than what you had.”
