Part 17 (1/2)

I am so getting back on the s.e.xy bandwagon. I watch Dean strip down to his boxers. The muscles of his back s.h.i.+ft and flex underneath his taut skin. When he turns away to grab a pair of jeans from the dresser, I slither out of my robe and drop it to the floor. By the time I scramble to kneel in the middle of the bed, I'm all tingly with antic.i.p.ation.

Dean turns, his eyes widening at the sight of me.

”Hi,” I say breathlessly.

”Well, h.e.l.lo.” He skims his gaze over me, his expression sparking with heat. ”Is that new?”

”Just bought it today.” I stroke my hand over the bed suggestively, my fingers brus.h.i.+ng against the book.

”You're incredible,” he murmurs.

”I thought we could finally have some uninterrupted fun.” I pick up the romance novel and show him the cover of a buxom la.s.s with long, red hair about to be ravished by a hunk whose billowy, open s.h.i.+rt exposes his ridiculously impressive abs. ”My book gave me an idea.”

”Yeah?” Intrigue and growing l.u.s.t spark in his expression as he approaches the bed, erotic tension already lacing his muscles. ”What kind of idea?”

”A fantasy about you ravis.h.i.+ng me.”

”Now that,” Dean says, sliding one hand to the back of my neck and dropping his other hand to the waistband of his boxers, ”is a fantasy I can get behind. And on top of. As long as we get right down to the ravis.h.i.+ng.”

”Well, of course, but you know, sharing fantasies is really supposed to... oh!”

Dean shoves his boxers down, his half-hard c.o.c.k appearing right in front of me. His grip tightens on my nape as he pulls me forward so I'm sitting on the edge of the bed. Without thinking, I part my lips obediently, a bolt of arousal shooting through me as he nudges his c.o.c.k into my mouth.

I put my hands on his hips, my blood heating as I feel his erection grow harder inside my mouth. I squirm, pressing my thighs together, a throb of urgency already starting.

He slides his hand over my body and underneath my chemise, his palms sending tingles of electricity racing over my skin. A noise of appreciation rumbles from his chest. He pushes his c.o.c.k deeper into my mouth and fondles my b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

s.h.i.+vers waterfall through me. I grasp the base of his shaft and slacken my throat muscles, letting him pump in and out. The salty taste of him floods my tongue, and before long his breath starts to intensify.

”Ah, f.u.c.k, Liv.”

The low murmur uncoils heat inside me. I move away from him to unfasten the bow holding the chemise together. The chiffon opens, exposing my b.r.e.a.s.t.s topped with stiff nipples and the curves of my belly and hips. Dean's eyes darken as he gazes at my almost naked body, his eyes roaming hungrily over me.

”You are so d.a.m.n s.e.xy,” he murmurs, putting one knee on the bed and pus.h.i.+ng me backward.

His lips come down on mine with surprising gentleness-especially considering that I can feel his pent-up l.u.s.t ready to snap open. He strokes his tongue into my mouth, smooth and deep, his hands coming up to my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I twitch underneath him, and when he starts playing with my nipples, electric sparks shoot through me.

I maneuver us both around and fall back against the pillows, gripping his arms to keep him close, our mouths sealed in a hot, wet kiss. With a gasp of pleasure, I wrap my legs around his thighs, my heart kicking into overdrive as his c.o.c.k rubs against the stretched satin of my panties.

He slides a hand down my abdomen, his fingers twisting in the thin elastic string at my hips before moving around to my rear.

”Hmm.” His deep growl vibrates through me. ”Not much here.”

”It's a little small,” I admit, sliding my lips over his jaw to where his pulse is pounding at the hollow of his throat.

”Lemme see.” His voice is a gruff order as he pushes away from me, his eyes darkened to black with desire.

He sits back, making a circling gesture with his forefinger. I lick my lips, my heart hammering as I turn to show him the skimpy lace-and-satin back that barely covers my bottom.

”d.a.m.n.” The curse escapes Dean on a hiss as he covers my a.s.s with both his hands, rubbing and squeezing. He moves his hand between my legs, probing at my damp cleft.

I gasp, arching my back. ”Dean!”

”Jesus, you're soaked down here.” He pushes a finger into my opening and strokes it back and forth.

I swear to G.o.d I'm already close to coming, and we've barely gotten started. A fog of l.u.s.t and urgency descends over me. With a moan, I push my rear backward, seeking deeper penetration, my nerves tingling with pleasure.

I twist to look at Dean over my shoulder. He's gazing at my lace-covered a.s.s, one hand slowly stroking his big c.o.c.k. The sight of him sends a firebolt straight into my blood. My c.l.i.t throbs.

”Dean,” I moan, lowering my head onto the pillow and wiggling my a.s.s.

He pulls the panties over my hips and a.s.s, his c.o.c.k nudging against my bare thigh. I experience an instant of self-consciousness-after all it's not like we've been doing much of this lately-but then Dean slides his shaft right between my cheeks, and shock obliterates my embarra.s.sment.

”Oh my G.o.d, Dean.”

He gives a m.u.f.fled laugh and rubs his c.o.c.k up and down the cleft of my bottom, slipping lower to my s.e.x before sliding back up again. Flames crackle through me, and I can't prevent a cry of need from escaping my throat. I grip the headboard with both hands as hot sensations sweep up the length of my spine.

”You're so f.u.c.king perfect,” Dean mutters, pus.h.i.+ng his finger slowly back and forth inside me. ”Spread your legs wider for me, beauty.”

I fumble for another pillow to put beneath me and ease my legs apart. Dean's finger slides out of me, the movement causing another wave of ripples to course through me. I'm quivering with antic.i.p.ation and need, perspiration damping my skin, my tight, aching nipples rubbing against the pillow.

I s.h.i.+ft, feeling his muscular legs pressing between mine, his broad hand coming down to rest on my lower back. The panties are still tangled around my thighs, the constriction an erotic contrast to the pressure of Dean's c.o.c.k nudging at my slit.

”Do it, please,” I gasp. ”Oh, Dean, f.u.c.k me.”

With a grunt, he pushes forward, gripping my hips. I sink onto his shaft, crying out with pleasure when he fills me, his rigid flesh throbbing against my inner walls. I tighten my hands on the headboard and brace myself, my thighs tensing as he starts f.u.c.king me with slow, deep strokes that make my whole body quake with l.u.s.t.

”Move your pretty a.s.s,” he orders hoa.r.s.ely, slipping one hand under me to rub my aching c.l.i.t. ”Come on, f.u.c.k yourself on me... that's it...”

I groan, releasing the headboard and resting my cheek against the pillow as I start to thrust myself back onto his shaft. I squeeze my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, playing with my nipples, fiery currents shooting like stars through my blood.

Oh G.o.d, I could kneel here for hours, letting my husband stroke his c.o.c.k in and out of me, my body jerking and swaying under him, his flat stomach hitting my a.s.s with a sound like a spank. His fingers tighten on my hips, his breath rasping through the air as our bodies slam together again and again...

”Dean, I'm going to come.” I bite down hard on my lower lip as the spool of l.u.s.t winds tighter and tighter, pulling me closer to the explosion of bliss I haven't felt in longer than I care to remember.

But I want to come while looking at my husband, and he wants to watch, because he pulls out of me and eases me around to my back. His expression is rigid with l.u.s.t and restraint, his eyes smoldering as he rakes his gaze over my sweaty, naked body.

He rubs his hands in circles over my midriff and hips, bending to press warm kisses over my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, down my abdomen to circle his tongue around my bellyb.u.t.ton. He slides his hands between my thighs to spread them apart again.

He enters me with one deep plunge, bracing his hands on either side of my head. His thick c.o.c.k strokes every inner recess of my p.u.s.s.y. A stream of moans spill from my parted lips, my breath scorching my lungs, my whole being straining toward release.

My gaze locks with my husband's in a fiery heat of urgency and need that belongs to us alone and that we haven't shared in so long... too long...

”Oh, Dean, it's going to happen,” I whisper thickly, sliding my hands around to grip his muscular back. ”I can feel it... oh, yes...”

Born to be Wi-ild...