But I didn’t imagine this. I didn’t even know how to imagine this.
His grip in my hair, my breasts flattened against his wildly breathing chest. His mouth slamming into mine as he groans like he’s dying. His hot skin, soft hair and rough mouth.
When we break apart for air, my hands are tugging at his shirt at the shoulder and one of my legs is wrapped around his hips.
“I—I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time,” I admit to his glistening lips.
“Not as long as I have,” he says.
I creep my hand up and tug at his hair. “I should be mad at you.”
He swallows. “Yeah.”
“I can’t believe you scared away my date, Dean. And then, you just… left.”
I should be angrier about this. Him threatening away my boyfriend—though later I realized I didn’t love him anyway—and up and leaving for California a month later. Not to mention the things he said to me last night when I told him I loved him. But weirdly, anger is the last thing on my mind.
“I hated myself for doing what I did. I still do.”
I raise my eyebrows. “For threatening a perfectly nice guy?”
He squeezes my waist, making me feel the sculpted slabs of his body. “For loving you a little too much.”
I bite my lip to hide my smile. I can’t stay mad at him for saying these things to me and looking so tortured about it. Maybe I’m a sucker, but whatever.
I reach up and kiss the side of his pulsing jaw—something I’ve been dying to do ever since I saw him standing across from my dorm room four days ago. “How are you gonna make it up to me?”
He narrows his warm brown eyes at me. “What do you mean?”
My thigh clenches around his hip as I arch my back against him. “You ruined my prom, Dean. No fair.”
“What did you want to do at your prom?”
“Dance, for one thing.”
“I can put on some music.”
I shake my head and kiss his jaw again. The bristles of his five o‘clock shadow taste so delicious on my tongue. “I was gonna lose my virginity, too.”
“I’m glad I ruined it, then,” he says with gritted teeth.
Smiling, I trace his harsh cheekbones and angled jaw with my hand. “Me too. Because I want you to take it.” He goes to protest, if grabbing a fistful of my butt through my shorts is anything to go by, but I put a finger on his lips. “I know what your answer’s gonna be. Because you think you know everything and I’m this innocent flower who has no idea what’s going on in the world. But I do know things, Dean. I do know what I want, and I want you. I’ve been waiting for you forever. In fact, if you hadn’t gone away, we’d be together right now. Instead of scaring away my date like an idiot, if you’d said something, we would’ve done it ages ago. So it’s only fair you make it up to me now.”
Dean takes my finger off his mouth. “We wouldn’t have done it ages ago. You weren’t legal ages ago.”
I wave my hand. “Minor detail. The point is…”
“What’s the point?”
“The point is I love you, Dean. And you love me, and we’ve wasted enough time already. So, are you gonna give me my prom or not?”
“Fallon—”
“Besides, I’ve heard it hurts, losing your virginity. And I know if you take it, it won’t hurt.”
I’ve never seen him look harsher than this. The room is flooded with light but strangely, Dean appears all dark and made of shadows. His eyes have turned black and his high, king-like cheekbones have a flush to them.
He’s hard and barely breathing as he looks down at me. “And why’s that?”
Maybe it’s the way we’re standing—my leg draped over his hip and our lower bodies intimately flush together—but I feel his other hardness too. His dick at the juncture of my thighs.
“Because you’ll take care of me.”
“Is that right?”
I move against him, against it. “Yup. Because you always do.”
He watches me for a few beats before looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head. Then he grabs hold of my waist and halts my movements.
Pinning me with his eyes once again, he growls, “Stop tempting me, Tiny.”
“I will, if you agree.”
“I’ll burn in hell for this.”
I cock my head to the side and smirk. “I thought you were already burning. Exploding.”
“Fallon,” he warns.
His reluctance is weak, weaker than his desire to claim me; I can see it in his eyes. And it makes me bolder, shameless. “I’m burning too, Dean. I swear. It hurts, you know. I’ve been hurting ever since you went away and every night, I dream of you coming back and kissing me. Touching me where I hurt. In my”— I lower my voice and whisper the word I’ve only thought about in the dead of night— “Pussy.”
I don’t even have time to catch my breath after that. Dean hauls me up, causing both my thighs to clench around his hips, and he claims my mouth in a kiss. And then, we’re moving. He’s taking me somewhere, but I don’t care about that. As earlier, his kiss becomes my entire world.
Until that world tilts on its axis and I’m lying flat on my back. I feel the softness of the mattress and the ceiling fills my vision as Dean kneels before me, settling himself between my spread thighs.
From my position, Dean looks huge, larger than the sky. I should feel vulnerable or maybe even shy. We’re getting ready to have sex, aren’t we? But I don’t. Not even when he makes quick work of our clothes, and we’re both naked in about three seconds.
I’m more interested in watching him. His broad, corded muscles. The grooves and dips of his body. A light scattering of dark hair on his chest.
Dean’s eyes are scorching as he takes in my small body, and I writhe on the bed, willing him to do something… anything.
“Do you hurt, Tiny?” he whispers, his fingers trailing from the top of my chest through the valley of my breasts to my trembling stomach.
“Yes.”
“Where? Show me.”
A flush overcomes me, but I’m determined not to let it deter me. I’ve waited long enough for this moment.
My hand shivers as I reach down and touch my most intimate part, making my hips jerk. It’s not that I haven’t touched myself. It’s just I haven’t done it in front of someone.
I touch my slick core. Gosh, it’s so swollen. My fingers slip over the wetness. Under his intense stare, my pussy gushes. Again, I should feel shy but I don’t. In fact, I can’t stop touching myself. I can’t stop watching for his reactions, either.
His chest is heaving. The muscles of his thighs and his stomach are flexing. Not to mention his dick. His dick is throbbing. I’ve been avoiding looking at it because I don’t wanna be afraid. On my stomach, through the layers of our clothes, his cock felt enormous. But I can’t stop staring at it now.
It is enormous and dark, and the more I touch my pussy, the more I think it’s never gonna fit.
A second later, I can’t think about anything but Dean. Because, growling, he falls onto me. Onto my pussy. His warm mouth envelops my entire core and even my fingers.
“Dean…” I moan, my hips going crazy, my legs shaking with sensations.
Dean splays his palms on my thighs and keeps them spread open. He sucks on my fingers, drinking down all my juices before focusing on my pussy. My hands go to his shoulders as I try to hold on against the waves of lust that wrack my entire frame.
I’ve never felt this way, like, ever. This unmoored and this overcome. The pulses of lust fire from somewhere deep inside my stomach in all directions, making my heart race, making my toes curl.
But apparently, that’s not enough. Dean lets go of my pussy and kisses and nips my thighs, my stomach. He keeps stimulating my clit with his fingers as he crawls up my body, sucking the flesh along the way. His mouth closes over my nipple and I lose it.
Arching my back and screwing my eyes shut, I screa
m out his name and come.
I come and come like never before, and it feels like it won’t stop. My body won’t stop coming or jerking or twisting. I won’t ever stop feeling the rush of my orgasm.
My eyes fall open to find Dean hovering over my body. His hair’s a mess and his lips are shiny with my juices. I’m so replete I don’t have it in me to even blush.
“You know what you taste like, Tiny?” he whispers, settling himself between my legs.
The head of his dick touches my fluttering pussy and I dig my nails in his biceps. “What?”
Smirking, he tells me, “Horny.”
“Shut up,” I mutter.
“You were horny for me, weren’t you, Tiny?”
“No.”
He kisses me. “You were.” He nudges my opening with his big cock, stretching me out slightly. “You are.”
Without my volition, my back bows and he slides in a little deeper. We both hiss. There’s a weird pressure in my pelvis. It makes me want him more even though I know it’s gonna hurt.
“You are, too,” I whisper.
He licks his lips, staying still inside me. “Yeah, I am.”
I rub his shoulders with my palms, feeling his hot skin. “You’re burning up.”
“That too.”
I open my mouth to say something but can’t because I feel Dean playing with my clit once again. He bends down and sucks on the side of my neck, just under my ear. Who knew that was my sweet spot? I throw my head back and moan loudly, my legs going up and cinching around his waist.
He growls into my skin when my pussy flutters over the head of his dick. I can feel it shivering, juicing up.
I realize he’s making it easier for me to accept him inside my body. The realization makes me fall in love with him even more.
“You’re taking care of me,” I whisper, rubbing my cheek in his hair, feeling his thumb on my clit, his teeth on my neck.
Dean looks up, his eyes intense and full of what I feel for him in every corner of my heart. Love. “Always.”
“I love you, Dean.”
“I love you too, Fallon.”
He kisses me then, and I lose all my words. I lose myself. In him, in his mouth, in his body that’s moving in a slow, smooth rhythm inside me. I don’t feel pressure or pain when he thrusts deep, taking away my virginity in one stroke.
All I feel is my love for him. My lust and hunger and this urge to make him mine forever and ever.
Dean feels the same, I think. He can’t stop touching me, running his hands up and down my body. He can’t stop kissing me, either. I give as good as I get. I touch him, play with his hair, rake my nails down his sweaty back.
It’s the most wonderful feeling in the world, being connected to him like this. My best friend. My soulmate. The love of my life.
Dean’s strokes become faster, more urgent. They shake my entire body, making me moan into his mouth. I feel my climax building and building, deep in my lower belly.
The moment Dean circles his arms around my back and hugs me to his chest like he needs me, needs my skin to breathe, it washes over me.
My second orgasm is even more intense, more charged up. I’m moaning, shaking constantly, massaging his dick with my pulsating channel. It triggers Dean’s climax and he whips his cock out, spilling his cum over my stomach. It’s hot and thick and smells like all my lustful dreams put together.
We breathe into each other’s mouths, kissing lazily, trying to slow down our hearts. Although I don’t think that’s happening any time soon. Our hearts are probably not going to relax for a long while, especially if sex is going to be like this every time.
Dean stops kissing me and I open my eyes to find him watching me. “What?”
He traces a finger over the apple of my cheek. “You’re fucking stunning.”
I blush. “You are too.”
He chuckles and presses a kiss on my nose. I smile at his tender gesture.
“Mom always knew,” I tell him.
“What?”
“My mom. She always knew that I loved you and that you loved me.”
Dean goes rigid over me. Rigid and frowny. It’s like I’m hugging a mountain with my thighs and arms. “I’ll handle your dad.”
“No. We’ll handle him. Together.”
“Fallon, you’re—”
I put my finger on his soft mouth and squeeze his waist with my legs. “Oh, were you going to say something like…” I deepen my voice to mimic his. “Fallon, you don’t know how to do these things. Because you’re just so young and naïve.” Rolling my eyes, I say, “You know what, maybe you were right. Maybe I should’ve gone with a guy my age. At least he wouldn’t be so bossy.”
Dean’s eyes flare and he removes my finger from his mouth. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk about other guys when my dick is this close to your pussy.”
I feel him getting hard and grazing my still-wet core. “You’re bad, Dean.”
Smirking, Dean rubs our noses together. “You’re no saint, Fallon. You seduced me.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
The look in his eyes changes, becomes grave as he declares, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
As he enters me once again, I close my eyes and smile. I think of something my mom always said to me when I was a kid and didn’t know why some days were sad for me. And why, on those days, I felt like crying or sleeping.
She always forced me to get up, to keep going. She told me I was a fighter. That if I didn’t face the day, I’d miss out on so many things, so many possibilities. She told me I was born with more than blood in my veins. I was born with strength.
She was right.
But I was also born with something else. I was born with love.
Love for this man.
I was born with love for Dean and now that I have him in my arms, I’ll never let him go.
No matter what we face when we reach New York tomorrow.
I’ve always loved New York.
You know how people say that they love the energy of it? It’s true. There’s something in the air, the smell of it, the feel.
It feels like home.
Which I guess shouldn’t be a surprise because this is where I was born. This is where I grew up, in the suburbs a couple of hours outside of the city.
There are open grounds around my house, all green and lush with trees and shrubbery. When it rains, everything shines and looks fresh. It’s my and my mom’s favorite thing about the house: the open grounds.
My dad built it for her. Well, he bought it and then renovated it.
It’s a part of their love story, see. Living in a castle-like house. My mom, the Snow Princess and my dad, the Ice King.
This is the first time I’ve been home since I left for California a few months ago to start my freshman year.
The day I left I convinced myself that it was only temporary. That my mom’s tears and my dad’s bunched-up face while I walked through airport security were also temporary. That one day I’d come back for good. One day I’d come back with Dean and we’d start our life here.
Where we grew up and eventually fell in love with each other, even though we didn’t acknowledge it.
Today as I sit in his car that I’ve been traveling in for the past five days, I have more than the mere thought.
I have more than the fantasy.
I’m in New York and my dream is sitting right next to me, holding my hand on his thigh. His fingers are wrapped around mine in a tight grip.
A really, really tight grip.
But I think that’s me. I think I’m the one crushing his large, strong hand with my tiny one.
Maybe because even though my dreams have come true and Dean is here with me, I’m not comfortable as I normally would be.
I don’t feel the same liquid warmth spreading through my veins at the sight of my home. In fact, I’m cold and jittery and I know it’s not because I
’m in New York where winter actually is winter.
“Hey.”
Dean’s voice echoes in the interior of his car and I look away from my home.
“Hey,” I whisper to him, studying his face.
His beautiful face with royal features. A stunning structure of bones. A magnificent work of lines and peaks and valleys.
“You okay?” he asks in that deep voice of his.
Deep and made of thick honey, I think.
It was powerful before—it has always been powerful, if I really think about it—but its power has become almost cosmic since last night.
Since he used that voice while he was inside of me.
I clench my thighs. “Yes.”
He isn’t convinced. His eyes flick over my features like he’s trying to figure out all my secrets.
That’s the thing though. I don’t have any, not from him.
Not anymore. Especially not after last night.
Dean traces the curve of my cheek with his finger. “Does it hurt still?”
I’m probably going all red right now. He can probably watch it happen, my skin turning pink right under his digit that he’s using to draw circles on my cheek.
The knowledge of it is reflected in his glinting eyes. They’re both intense and sort of smiling at the same time.
I shake my head because my voice is failing me.
“No?”
“No,” I whisper, my fingers tightening their grip even more around his hand. “I just…”
“You just what?”
“I just feel it,” I reply, squirming in my seat and clenching my thighs again, which he notices.
I lower my eyes then because his have become full with images of last night and this morning.
Not that we had sex this morning. Dean wouldn’t. He thought I was too sore, which was correct but that didn’t mean that I wanted him to refrain.
I’ve already fucked up and had you twice last night, Tiny. You need time to recover.
That’s what he told me, that he had me. It made me squirm the same way I’m squirming now, like I’m something to eat up, something to sink his teeth into and devour.
After that comment of his, I declared that I’d recovered. That he could check it if he wanted and he did check it. He went down and his examination turned into something really erotic with tongue and lips and maybe even his teeth on me.
California Dreamin' Page 5
