by Melody Grace
“Dex,” I whimper madly, twisting under his touch. He slides a hand over my breast, palming, squeezing it, sending a new rush of heat between my thighs. His fingertips follow the path of my desire lower, lower, across my naked abdomen and down to the waistband of my shorts and then over the fabric, rubbing me softly through the cotton until I cry out again, desperate for more.
With a growl, Dex yanks my shorts down, taking my bikini bottoms too, tossing them aside before I realize that I’m naked now beneath him. But there’s no time to think, or even breathe, before Dex takes my thighs and spreads them wide, setting my knees up over his shoulders and burying his face between my legs with a possessive growl.
He licks up inside me, and I lose my mind.
I scream, bucking up against his mouth. Dex shoves me down with one hand, locking me in place as he laps, and swirls, and suckles at my clit, driving my body into a panting frenzy, strung out, clutching at the sheets. I can hear myself moaning for him, wanton and shameless, but I can’t stop, oh God, don’t stop now. His rhythm is relentless, driving me on, inch by gorgeous inch towards oblivion. That tongue, sliding over me, again and again, dipping lower to plunge inside me, fucking me slowly, too slowly, as every nerve in my body twists tighter and I beg for release. But he’s the one in control now: holding me down, drawing back to tease me, then devouring me with a new determination. Pleasure rises, echoes of bliss shivering through me, but it’s not enough, never enough, until he thrusts two fingers deep inside me and I bear down on the thickness with everything I have.
“Dex!” I cry, gasping. “Please!”
I don’t even know what I’m begging for, not until he curls his fingers high inside me and begins to pulse, fucking me hard as his tongue draws against my clit, faster now, sending fire through my bloodstream. I can feel my body rising into him, cresting higher, and I clutch his head, tangling my fingers in his hair, wanting to meld his mouth to my body, shuddering on the edge of an infinity only he can provide.
“Look at you.” Dex lifts his head, watching me from between my thighs as I gasp and moan. His fingers keep pulsing, sliding deeper as the pleasure takes hold. His eyes glitter darkly, victorious. “You’re so fucking beautiful, coming undone. Just for me, baby. This is only for me.”
I whimper, desperate; arching, twisting into his miraculous hand.
“Nobody else has seen you like this,” he murmurs, still watching, fixed on me. “They don’t know you like I do. The way your body rises to me, the way your face looks when you’re on the edge.”
I throw my head back and let out a twisted cry of frustration. My body is aching, God, I’m pulled tight, nothing but stardust sensation and raw, empty need made hungry by every slow thrust of his fingers, every slide of his thumb over my tight nub. Oh God, this is it. I feel the shivers start to spread, taking hold at the very base of my soul.
But Dex pulls back, stilling his hand.
“Wait for it,” he orders. “Wait until I say.”
“Please,” I gasp, lifting my head. “Dex…”
His lips curl in a wicked smile. “Say my name again.”
“Dex,” I cry.
“Louder,” he orders, plunging his fingers inside me again. Oh fuck, he’s pulsing them again, high inside, that dizzying place I’ve never known before, better than anything, white hot with joy.
“Dex!” I’m screaming now, beyond words, all I have is this syllable, this one anchor to the world and his tormenting touch.
“Come now,” he commands, lowering his mouth to me. “Come for me, sweet Alicia.”
He closes his lips around my clit and sucks, sweeping his tongue over me in a sharp burst of pleasure as his fingers thrust thickly inside me and I go shattering over the edge into sweet surrender. I come screaming his name into the dusk, ecstasy crashing through me in relentless waves until my body is breathless and gasping in his arms, and all I can think is,
More.
I roll on top of him, capturing his mouth in a kiss. I’m still flushed and trembling, but there’s a new need burning hot in my veins, an empty space deep inside me that his fingers can’t fill. Dex stiffens against me in surprise, but now I’m the one unleashed: kissing him greedily, my skin slick against his body as I reach between us and stroke him, hard through his jeans.
Dex lets out a tortured groan. I unzip his jeans and reach inside, closing my hand around the hard, thick length of him and pumping slowly as I tease and nibble at his earlobe. I feel him jerk against my hand, impossibly big, and now I’m the one in control, leaning over him, edging his jeans and underwear lower as I kiss my way down his body.
He smells of saltwater, sweat and masculine musk, and I inhale him hungrily. God, this man, this man I could devour for a hundred years and still not have enough. I find the head of him with my lips, sliding just the tip into my mouth, swirling my tongue over the moisture beading there, but I barely touch him before Dex yanks me up.
“No,” he growls, pushing me down on the bed beneath him. “When I come, it’s going to be buried to the fucking hilt in your sweet, wet pussy.”
I shudder, and his lips curl in a familiar smile.
“You like it when I talk dirty to you,” he murmurs, leaning over me. “You like hearing how I’m going to thrust my cock deep inside, filling you up, so big you’ll be stretched wide open for me.”
Lord. I’m on the edge again, my whole body sensitive and trembling for him.
“Do you like that, baby?” He reaches over me to the bedside table, and takes a condom from the drawer. “Every inch of me is going to be buried, right here.” He slips a hand between my legs, stroking slowly at my slick heat. “God, Alicia.” His eyes are hooded, glazed with lust. “You’re so wet.”
“For you,” I whisper. “All for you.”
Our eyes meet then, and it feels like an infinity stretching between us. He rolls on the condom, and then shifts me, moving to lie between my open thighs.
I feel his body settle over me and I spread wider for him, falling back into the bliss of his skin on mine, body to body, damp and sliding with slippery friction.
This was what I was made for. This is why I waited, all these years. So I could be possessed by his firm, commanding hands. So I could surrender to the hot desire pooled deep in those dark, dangerous eyes.
“You,” he murmurs, bending his head to kiss me. It’s a question and an answer, a promise and a plea all in one. And I answer it the only way I know how: arching up against him as he positions himself at my entrance, spreading wider, longing to be filled.
“Don’t hold back,” I whisper in his ear. “I want everything you have. Everything you are.”
I feel the shock of my words ripple through him, and then with a low groan of possession, Dex thrusts into me in one swift stroke.
Oh. My. God.
I cling to him, overtaken, overcome. God, how can something feel this good? He fills me, stretches me, just the way he promised, and oh, I can hardly take it: sharp pleasure and sweet pain, mingling in one, taking me over, fire racing in my blood as I lose myself in him, in the sensation of being possessed, owned, taken over.
He slides out a few inches and thrusts again, this time deeper than ever, igniting my last threads of sanity and sending me plunging into the inferno. I cry out, clenching around him, feeling his body tense and shiver in my arms.
“Oh God,” he gasps, and I see it in his face, this miracle of sensation. “You feel…God, Alicia, you’re so tight, so fucking perfect.”
He thrusts deep again, and I’m right here to meet him, arching up, grinding my hips to release the stardust shuddering from my core. He pins me down, slamming into me harder, and now I’m really gone, mindless and gasping for more. His grip on my wrists is punishing, his body demands more than I can give, but this is what I want, the total command, the reckless heat as I thrust against him, taking him deeper, wanting all of him. This is sweet insanity, a place beyond thought or words. Our bodies plunge and slide in slick determination, our mouths devour each other, a
nd in the midst of it all, I lose myself to him: I surrender to the madness and pure, craven need. I open myself and take everything, every inch of his thick, demanding cock, and the dark hunger in his eyes, and the jagged edges of his beautiful soul, until my body can’t stand the pleasure any longer and I break, coming apart again with the sweetness of a thousand sun-drenched mornings, firelight singing in my blood and blazing through my soul as I gasp his name a final time and feel the truth brand itself on my heart with pure possession.
Dex. All of him.
Only him.
21.
I wake the next morning, safe in an unfamiliar embrace. I roll to look at him, still sleeping, his dark hair sticking out in unruly tufts, dark stubble scattered on his jaw.
It all comes back to me in a sweet, heady rush.
How our bodies intertwined as if they were made to fit together; how we lie awake, whispering in the darkness, sharing silly stories and sleep-heavy dreams, trading kisses and secret truths until I slipped away into the velvet black with his arms locked tight around me, holding me closer than I’ve ever known.
Now, in the pale morning sunlight, I feel breathless just looking at him. I’d imagined a closeness like this, sharing so much of myself with someone, but it had always been a distant kind of dream. Theoretical, unknown. But Dex…This is real, the fragile threads of connection our confidences have spun. I’m tethered to him by a thousand shimmering strands of hope and history, an intimate bond that feels like everything and nothing all in one.
Is this how it always is? Being with somebody. I gently trace the contours of his face, every dip and hollow. I can’t believe it, that sex can do this to somebody, every time. My friends can be so cavalier about their hook-ups, dissecting everything from his physique to performance with detached amusement. But this…This was different, I already know it in my bones. Somehow, we were more than our bodies, more than the slide of flesh and hungry skin.
I felt him everywhere. I gave him every part of me.
How can I ever go back?
I feel a shiver of insecurity. I pull back, gently lifting his arm and sliding out from under him. I grab a T-shirt from the floor and slide it over my head, padding silently with bare feet on the wooden floorboards through to the cool expanse of marble in the master bathroom.
I catch my breath, struggling to identify this feeling rising in my chest, a tender ache both bittersweet and scary, wingbeats fluttering alive in a place I never knew existed until now.
Pull it together, I tell myself sternly. You’re acting like a child now. This was just sex.
Just.
But I know it’s not true. I turn on the shower and let the hot, steamy water beat against my tired muscles. I can feel his touch still imprinted on my skin, feel the unfamiliar ache of exertion in my limbs. I smooth my hands over my body, over the tender places his mouth, and lips, and hands claimed as their own, feeling my stomach twist all over again. I understand now his promise that I would feel him for days. My body is branded with him, a delicious soreness reminding me of every hard thrust and deep grind…
I snap back to reality and finish rinsing off, squeezing water from my hair and stepping back out to towel dry myself. I smooth my wet hair back into a braid, and wrap myself in a fluffy bathrobe before stepping back out into the bedroom. My stomach is skipping, strangely nervous, and when I see him lazing there on the tangled sheets, awareness ricochets through my body.
God, he’s gorgeous.
Dex opens his eyes with a lazy yawn. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“Hi.”
I loiter in the doorway, uncertain what to do now. Everything is bright sunlight and new dawn, and for a moment, it feels like the soft whispers of last night were just a dream. Dex slides out of bed and stretches, tanned muscles lengthening over his briefs. He looks sleepy and satisfied, his hair still adorably askew. He wanders over to me, and pulls me gently into his arms.
“You already showered,” he says, with a teasing glint in his eye. “I was going to scrub your back.”
I smile, relaxing into him. “Another time.”
“Mmm…” Dex’s reply is a low hum as he dips his head into the hollow of my neck, breathing me in. “You’re all fresh and clean.” He kisses slowly up the curve of my throat, making me shiver. He slides his hands under my robe, over my bare skin, as his lips nuzzle at my ear. “We’ll have to get you dirty again.”
I blush, still new to all of this, the morning-after glow in my body, and the self-conscious edge to every word. “Did you sleep OK?” I babble, nervous.
Dex chuckles. “Too much. It was a waste of having you in bed with me.”
He kisses my lips now, and I can’t help but exhale in a breath of sweet sensation. His tongue slides into my mouth, languidly tasting me, all the time in the world as the morning sun washes over us and I feel the warmth spread, from my head all the way down to my toes.
“C’mon,” Dex reluctantly breaks away. “You go back to bed. It’s my turn to make breakfast.”
“I’m not going to argue with that,” I grin. I flop back down onto the mattress, feeling the warm indent his body just left behind. I splay out, yawning, as he laughs.
“Coffee?”
“Yes sir.”
“And how do you like your eggs?” he asks.
Served by you, naked.
“However you want.” I sit up. “Are you sure you don’t want some help? I can come—”
“Nope.” Dex shakes a finger at me sternly. “You don’t move a muscle. Unless you want to slide out of that robe…” He winks, and I giggle at the teasing, at this delicious banter, light and breezy as the day ahead.
“I’ll be back,” he promises. “You just relax.”
I lay back and do as he commands, listening to his footsteps trail down the hallway and the sound of cabinets opening and closing; the clatter of pans on the stove, and his low voice, singing something I can’t quite hear.
I yawn, snuggling into the covers. I can still smell him on the sheets around me, a faint echo of his intoxicating scent. I listen to him bustling around the kitchen, safe in a warm cocoon of sunshine and contentment.
I’m drifting back into sleep when I hear the doorbell. I stretch, sleepy, and then the sound of laughter filters down the hallway.
A woman’s laughter.
I wake up in a hurry. It comes again, and the low rumble of Dex’s voice. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but it’s familiar and warm.
I’m suddenly painfully self-conscious: lying here in the bed of a man I barely know.
You know him better than anyone.
No, I correct myself with a pang of insecurity. I don’t. I’ve seen glimpses of his true self, explored his body inch by delicious inch, but it’s barely been three days since I showed up on his doorstep with an aching heart. He has a whole life I’ve never seen, a world that existed long before I arrived in it, and is still out there, waiting for him.
And maybe it just arrived.
The laughter comes again, carefree and teasing. My heart clenches. I know Dex has a reputation, but somehow, I’ve managed to ignore the fact he’s probably had a different woman every night for years. He’s a drop-dead gorgeous man practically radiating sexual energy—and a famous rock star to boot. Of course he’s not living like a monk out here.
Still, the knowledge stings. He told me he hadn’t had any women out at the house, and I believed him too.
Was it all just a line to make me feel special?
My insecurity growing, I scramble out of bed. I shrug off the robe and quickly dress in underwear and my simple summer dress. Vanity forces me to stop, and slick on a coat of mascara and some powder to cover the shadows under my eyes. Then, as ready as I’ll ever be, I slowly make my way down the hallway and into the living area.
I find Dex with his arms around a woman, swinging her off the ground with her body pressed against his bare chest.
Pain slams through my chest.
“Hey.” Dex see
s me. He releases the girl, setting her on the ground. It’s even worse: I can see how beautiful she is, with a cascade of dark silky hair and pale, delicate skin. “Alicia, this is my sister, Tegan, back from Paris.”
His sister? Relief crashes over me.
“Hey.” I give her a genuine smile this time.
Now that I’m looking, the resemblance is obvious. Tegan has the same watchful dark eyes as Dex, lined with smudgy blue liner and set in a pale heart-shaped face. She looks young, nineteen or twenty years old, dressed in a black tank top and a vintage-looking skirt, with gladiator sandals and armfuls of chunky silver jewelry.
“It’s great to meet you,” I add.
Tegan’s gaze slides over me, uninterested. She turns back to Dex. “You look disgustingly healthy,” she says, mock-scolding him with another hug. “What have you been doing to yourself? All this healthy country living isn’t right. Next thing, you’ll be eating kale.”
Dex laughs. “Quit it,” he rolls his eyes. “What did you expect, for me to be partying until three a.m. out here? I hate to break it to you, sis, but there’s no place to go.”
“There’s always a party somewhere,” Tegan corrects him. “You’ve just got to know where to look. Ooh, are you making your famous eggs?” She spies the food in the kitchen, and moves closer, putting on a puppy dog expression, practically panting at the dishes. “I’m starving, I drove all morning.”
Dex sighs. “I guess there’s enough for three. I’ll go throw on a shirt. And then you can tell me what you’re doing out here.”
“I’m visiting my beloved big brother!” Tegan beams.
“Uh huh.” Dex smirks. “Sure that’s all.” He heads back towards the bedroom, passing me with a wink. Then we’re left alone.
Tegan fetches down another plate and sets the table with bread and jams. She steals a forkful of eggs from the pan and bustles around the kitchen, ignoring me completely.
I watch, not sure what to say. My reaction to seeing her arms around Dex has spun me off balance. I know that I don’t have any claim to him, but my flash of rejection took me by surprise. Even though it just turned out to be his sister, I can’t deny that I felt fiercely possessive. I got jealous of the girls Hunter dated, sure, but it was a different kind of feeling: a wistful envy that I wasn’t the one in his arms, not this sharp, demanding blade in my stomach. I never felt like he belonged to me, so I couldn’t begrudge him their attentions either.
