Dean shook his head and stared down at the floor. “I’ve been a world-class bastard to you and I know that, but I’d never use you.”
Tears stung her eyes at the sincerity in Dean’s voice. She had to look away in order to maintain her composure. A rough palm beneath her chin brought her gaze back to his. “What we shared, it was special to me,” he said in a gentle voice. “It had nothing to do with getting answers and everything to do with you and me.”
Catherine wanted so badly to believe him, which was of course the problem. “I don’t know what you want from me, Dean,” she said, giving him the plain truth. “You don’t trust me and yet you’re here. Why?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” he ground out, sounding none too happy about it. “I can’t stop wanting you. Every moment of the day away from you has been an exercise in torture.”
“Oh, God,” Catherine moaned. It was too much. She couldn’t hold up against an attack like that.
“Don’t send me away, sweet Catherine,” he murmured as his lips brushed hers in a tender caress. “Let me make it up to you. Please.”
“You don’t fight fair,” she complained, as tears began to stream down her cheeks. “Not fair at all.”
He swiped at them with the pad of his thumb. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get you in my arms again,” he vowed. “Anything.”
Catherine let her arms drift around his neck. His virile scent filled her senses and sent her libido into overdrive. “I’ll be going home soon, you know. Back to Georgia.” The idea of leaving Dean, of never again feeling the warmth of his embrace, made her heart ache something fierce.
“We should make the most of every minute, then, don’t you think?” he asked, as he bent low and lifted her into his powerful arms.
She nodded, but before he could take her off to the bedroom, Catherine had enough of her wits about her to ask, “Does this mean you’re staying the night?”
“If you’ll have me.”
Catherine could’ve sworn Dean’s arms shook a little, but she must have been imagining it. A man as strong and confident as Dean would never show such an obvious sign of weakness. “Only if I can wake up next to you,” she said, giving him a smile. “But what about Duke? Don’t you need to get home to him?”
He shook his head. “My neighbor came home earlier than expected. So, Duke is back home.”
“Oh, that’s good, then.” After settling that little dilemma, Catherine surrendered. She was completely off her rocker, but damn it, she wanted another chance with him. Another moment out of time to indulge the pleasure she would only find in Dean’s arms.
17
A
s Dean placed Catherine on her feet next to the bed, he looked her over. He couldn’t believe he was being given another chance. He didn’t deserve it—no one knew that better than him—but he wasn’t about to pass it up either. God, even with the crazy hair and baggy clothes, she was beautiful. It didn’t matter what she wore because he’d already memorized every curve and valley. Her body would be stamped on his brain forever. Right now, with the two of them alone, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend the rest of the night than to play. Maybe a game of memory . . . blindfolded.
Dean wrapped an arm around her, then glided his palm down until he was cupping one jean-covered cheek. Catherine jolted, and Dean couldn’t prevent a grin. He had her full attention and he planned to keep it.
He grasped her around the middle with both hands, spanning her waistline. Catherine had curves, but his hands were big and his fingers almost touched together. She fit his body the way no other woman had. He watched her eyes heat up when he pulled her close, closer still, fitting her to him, and kissed her long and deep. The king-size bed was mere inches away. He walked backward, their lips locked together, until the backs of his knees hit the side of the bed and they both tumbled onto it, their mouths never breaking contact. Catherine’s startled hiss brought him to a halt. She tore her mouth from his and stared up at him as if scandalized. As if she hadn’t been the same woman who had begged him to let her come the other night. Several times.
“Dean?” she asked, her hushed whisper turning him on. Everything about her made him ache with hunger and need.
He grinned. “Catherine.” He lifted up and took hold of her shirt, yanking it up until he could see her tempting belly button ring. He pulled the material over her head and tossed it away. Her bra went next. When her large breasts fell free, Dean groaned. “God, I missed you,” he whispered before he blanketed her with his body. He dipped his head and sucked one already erect nipple into his mouth. She tasted like paradise, pure and simple. Catherine gasped and clutched onto the back of his head in a stinging hold. Her nipples were soft and pink, and Dean could feed on her for hours. He sucked and licked. She moaned his name, and Dean broke away long enough to admit, “I have to warn you. I haven’t eaten much the past few days, and you, sweetheart, are a meal fit for a king.”
“I-I certainly wouldn’t want you to starve,” she moaned.
“Mmm,” Dean groaned as he flicked his tongue over and around one nipple before moving to the other, gently at first then rougher, demanding her flesh to beg for him. He cupped the round globe and pulled it up higher, kneading the supple skin. He heard her moan of delight. Dean took joy in her animated responses to him. He gave in to his primal cravings and bit down. She arched upward, eager for his touch. His hand answered her unspoken pleas. Letting go of her breast, he journeyed down until he found her precious mound. “Clothes, sweetheart,” he mumbled as he quickly did away with her jeans and panties. His fingers delved at once, and his nostrils flared to life as he picked up her succulent scent. He found her clit swollen and throbbing. Damn, she was soaked. He fondled and toyed with the little nub until the teasing seemed to become too much. She cried out his name and came, exploding all around his finger. It was the sweetest thing to watch Catherine come totally undone at his hands.
Dean moved away and tore at the button fly on his jeans, freeing his erection. In the red haze of his lust, her pleading barely reached his ears. He looked down and saw her arms outstretched, waiting to embrace him, even as her body waited to welcome him in. But Dean intended to enjoy his beautiful little seductress.
“Hold that thought,” he said as he moved off the bed and strode out of the room. He grabbed the bag he’d brought with him and carried it to the bed, where Catherine was now sitting up and looking at him with a question in her pretty emerald eyes. He took out the black blindfold he’d bought earlier in the day and held it up for her to see. She looked more confused than ever. They shared no words as he moved between her legs and placed the soft fabric over her eyes.
Her hands covered his in an instant. “Uh, Dean, I’m really not so sure about this.”
“I am.”
She clutched onto him tighter. “Dean.”
Her anxiety could be heard in the quiver of her soft voice. She should know he wouldn’t hurt her. He would never cause her pain. But then again, they’d only just met and he’d already made her cry. He had a lot to make up for.
“You don’t have to worry that I would take advantage of you, sweetheart,” he murmured. “My pleasure comes from yours.”
“There was plenty of pleasure without the blindfold.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, but this is more adventurous. And you wanted adventure, remember?” Dean waited, and when she dropped her hands, he went back to securing the material in a knot at the back of her head. “Is it too tight?”
She shook her head. No words, only the sound of her rapid breaths could be heard.
“All you have to do is feel. Let yourself go, Catherine. Experience every touch, every throb, and every breath.” A small shake of her head and Dean knew she was ready.
He moved out from between her legs, drawing a frown from her. But he wanted to give her more than a few moments of passion. He wanted to give her a part of himself. By the time he was finished, Catherine would have had more of him than he’d ever given any other woman. What she did with it would be up to her.
Dean fished around in the bag and brought out a bottle of wine. He inspected the label. It was a merlot, a good year. He used the bottle opener and uncorked it, then held the cork beneath her nose.
“What is that?” she asked as she inhaled.
“You tell me. What’s it smell like?”
She sniffed again, then smiled. “Wine?” She paused, then added, “Uh, I’m not really a wine expert, Dean.”
Unaccountably charmed by her, Dean leaned down and kissed her, the satiny softness of her lips fueling his already raging hard-on. “Experts aren’t required for this game.”
“If you say so,” Catherine murmured, clearly unconvinced. Dean held the cork under her nose once more and allowed her time to take in the rich, seductive fragrance.
This time she took a deeper inhale. “Oak,” she replied. “Maybe a hint of . . . cherry?”
Dean touched her thigh and felt her jump. The blindfold made every soft stroke more pronounced for her. “Very good girl,” he whispered as he put the cork aside. He picked up the bottle and took out a glass he’d brought along, then poured a small amount. Dean put the glass to her lips and said, “Here, take a sip and tell me what you taste.”
He watched her drink a small amount, then her tongue darted out and she licked her lips. Dean was having a hell of a time concentrating with Catherine sitting in front of him, her plump tits bare and her pussy inches away from his hand.
“It’s good,” she said, “and there’s a hint of spice, I guess.” She swiped her tongue over her bottom lip again, and Dean groaned. “Hmm, I can’t quite put my finger on what else. Something fruity, maybe?”
“Ah, you do know wine,” he murmured as he moved his hand higher up her thigh. “I don’t drink much, but over the years I’ve developed a fondness for good wine.” As he reached her sweet pussy, he flicked his thumb back and forth over the little nub he found there.
She threw her head back and moaned. “Dean, please, I need more. I need
you
.”
Her voice had gone hoarse, and Dean was tempted to forget the game. He dipped his finger into the glass of wine and said, “Soon, I promise. First, open your mouth for me.”
She hesitated only a few seconds this time. Dean slid his wine-soaked finger into her mouth and asked, “What’s the fruit you taste?”
She closed her lips around his finger and licked it clean. The seductive sight had Dean’s cock thickening. She pulled her mouth off him and shook her head. “I-I don’t know.” She swirled her tongue over her bottom lip, then said, “Blackberry maybe?”
Catherine’s voice was a thready bit of sound in the quiet room, driving every one of his senses wild with need. He put the glass on the end table and plunged his wet finger into her slick, hot pussy. She moaned, and he covered her mouth with his, hungry for her taste. “Mmm,” he whispered against her lips, “my two favorite things.”
“W-what’s that?” she replied as her hips began moving, arching into his hand as he fingered her.
“Your pussy and a good bottle of merlot,” he answered. “Fucking delicious.” Dean continued sliding a single finger in and out of her opening, driving himself mad, as he was already so hard he hurt. He wanted to thrust deep, drive his cock into her honeyed heat where he knew paradise waited.
“Oh, God, Dean,” she moaned, “that feels so good. Please don’t stop.”
“I have no intention of stopping. You’re like a fine wine to me, Catherine. I want to sip and savor you. I want to take in your scent and enjoy the essence of your sweet femininity. I want you, sweetheart, and I seriously doubt that will change anytime soon.”
“Then quit stalling and take me, Dean.”
Dean gave her what she craved. He slipped his finger out and spread her juices over her puffy pussy lips. “This is the spicy taste I want on my tongue,” he growled. “No wine could ever compare to your luscious flavor.” He licked her, slowly drifting his tongue over her distended clit. When her body bowed, Dean spread her legs wider, tasting her deeper. He cupped the ample softness of her breasts. She fit his mouth, his hands. Catherine was made for him, and he devoured her.
He licked and sucked, luxuriating in her gasps and moans. Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer. He toyed with her little bud, nibbling on it the way he knew she liked, before teasing her nipples into hard points. He gave equal attention to her beautiful tits and wet pussy. Dean’s cock dripped with precome as he played.
“Do you know that you drive me to the very brink of insanity?” he admitted. “I swear to God, I’m addicted to you. So quickly you’ve become a drug to me, Catherine.”
Her hands tightened in his hair. “Then put your cock inside my pussy, Dean,” she demanded. “Right now, because surely you’re in need of a fix.”
Dean lifted his head and stared at Catherine’s widespread thighs. She sat, blinded by the black cotton cloth, her sex dripping wet, breasts glistening from the suckle of his mouth. He wondered if she realized how open she was to him in that moment. Covering her eyes had unlocked a door for Catherine, and she’d unknowingly dropped the last of her inhibitions.
“You are incredibly sexy like this,” he told her, his voice rough with emotion and passion both. “I could stare at you all night and I wouldn’t get bored.”
“Don’t even think it, Dean.” She reached between his legs, obviously searching for his cock. It took her several tries before she had it grasped in her tight fist. She squeezed, hard, drawing a growl from him. “I have the perfect spot for this. Don’t force me to tie you down and do it myself.”
Dean smiled at the thought. “I don’t think I’d mind being at your mercy.” Before she could make any more demands, he wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled her to the very edge of the bed. He knew she couldn’t see what he was doing and she would assume he was following her orders. But he’d always hated being predictable.
Instead, Dean picked up the glass one more time and dribbled a tiny amount of wine over her swollen vulva.
She yelped. “Damn it, Dean, that’s cold!”
He grinned. “Not for long, sweetheart,” he growled as he dipped his head between her legs and lapped up the ruby liquid. She went pliant when his tongue and lips moved over her.
“Mmm, your spicy little pussy tastes so good with the wine. Adds just the right touch, if you ask me,” he murmured against her dewy center.
He slowly trickled another few drops of liquid, this time onto her delightful berry nipples. She sucked in a breath and Dean watched as the tips turned to hard little peaks. He put the glass down and wrapped his mouth around one full breast, licking and suckling, before moving to the other to do the same. Her ragged groan went right to his bloodstream. She arched into him, clutching at the blankets for support.
“Would you like to taste my wine, sweetheart?”
She hesitated a moment, then a smile appeared as she nodded. His libido went into overdrive.
Dean stood, then took hold of her waist and pulled her off the bed. He placed her on her feet. She wobbled a little, but he steadied her. He took the bottle and poured a small amount onto the head of his cock and had to suck in a breath it was so cold.
“Get down on your knees,” he instructed. “I’ll guide you.”
She gripped on to his hand and went to her knees. Once her mouth was a breath away from the head of his dick, Dean took hold of her hair and stopped her. “Far enough, now, open wide so you can take all of me.” Again, her breathing quickened, but she silently obeyed.
Dean took his cock in a firm fist and brought the dripping tip to her waiting mouth. She tasted it with her tongue first, then took him all the way in, nearly bringing him to his knees.
“Christ, yeah, suck it,” he gritted out as she lapped up all the flavored drink. Dean’s vision blurred when she dipped her head and nuzzled his balls. A few swipes of her tongue on the sensitive underside of his cock and Dean was forced to stop her. He cupped her chin in his palm. “No more or I’ll fill that hot mouth, sweets.”