Accelerated Passion (11 page)

Each touch, each second he caressed her sent new white-hot fingers of desire racing to her pussy. She was impatient to fuck, but she loved having Dean touching her.

She adored everything about him. His smell, his taste, the warmth of his hard chest as it pushed against her side, and the way his long hair-coated legs had rested over hers.

“I want to watch you come,” he murmured. “Before I make love to you.”

Make love?

“Is that okay?”

Who was she to argue? “Go for it.”

He smiled, his lips stretching against hers.

His attention left her breasts and headed south. He tickled over her pubic hair, swept his fingertips to her left hip then her right.

“Open up for me.”

She spread her legs. She was breathing fast, the anticipation of what was to come a heady rush of adrenaline.

“You’re so damn sexy,” he whispered.

“So are you.”

“I’m not, really. I’m just an average guy.”

“Well, I—” He’d slipped his fingers over her clit and pushed into her entrance. “Oh…”

“You’re sexy because you don’t realize it,” he said, “You’re just you, but that’s the biggest turn on of all.”

“What, just me?” It was hard to think straight.

“Yeah, fuck, that damn sexy, tight-as-hell mechanic outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination but makes my imagination run wild.”

“You like that?”

“Yeah. A lot.” He pushed another finger into her, and the heel of his hand caught on her clit.

She groaned and closed her eyes. How she’d missed the feel of a big, hard male hand touching her. She should never have left it so long. She’d forgotten how good it felt.

“Jesus, you’re hot and wet,” he murmured. “It’s going to be a tight fit.”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. He was rocking her clit and massaging that special place high inside of her. The pressure was mounting. The build to orgasm was overtaking her thoughts.

She rode onto his hand, jerking her hips.

“That’s it, work with me,” he said then kissed her again.

Bright lights were flashing behind her closed lids. Her abdominal muscles were taut, like bricks. She squirmed, drew up her knees, pushed them down again, her heels sliding on the sheet.

It was almost there.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped into his mouth.

“I won’t, babe, I won’t. Come, come now…”

He upped the speed, and the pressure was almost too much, too hard, too fast. But it wasn’t too much, it was just right. Frankie toppled into orgasm. For a few sweeter than sweet seconds, her body was held suspended in bliss. Dean’s fingers in her, on her, was all that existed. Then she was pulsing around him, release flooding from her and moistening her pussy further.

She gripped his arm, digging her short nails into his tense biceps.

“Keep going,” he said, excitement lacing his tone. “Fuck, yeah, come more.”

He didn’t let up. The intense stimulation on her clit was like an electric shock, one she didn’t want to end.

The way he was still massaging, or was that pounding, against her G-spot, it had her climax extending. She arched her spine, groaned, shifted her head on the pillow.

“Oh, God…”

“Oh, God, you’re beautiful when you come,” he said against her cheek.

“That’s it…” It was all getting too much. “Please…stop…”

He slowed his movements.

Her orgasm receded, ending in a series of powerful pussy contractions that clamped around his fingers. Frankie managed to catch her breath. Her limbs were weak, as though the energy had been sapped from them.

“Was that good?” he asked.

“I think you could tell it was.” She smiled up at him.

He pulled from her pussy and drifted his damp hand over her belly to cup her right breast. “It sure looked like fun, but…”

“But what?”

“I hope you’ve got a few more of them in you because that was just for starters.”

“I’m a three-course kind of girl,” Frankie said, smoothing over the roundness of his shoulder and tracing his tattoo. He was so perfect, so incredible to touch. Everything she’d fantasized about.

And now it was real. Now she was here. In bed with Dean-sex-on-legs-Cudditch. It wasn’t a dream. It was really happening.

He kissed her again then shifted to remove his boxers. His cock sprang forward. Dark and thick, it grew from a tangle of coal-black hair.

A spiral of nerves coiled within Frankie. Fuck, he was big. Sure, she was no virgin, but still…

He gripped his shaft and massaged himself, root to tip. He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, hoping my stamina doesn’t let me down.”

She smiled. Loving that he was obviously feeling on the edge. That it was her who’d put him there.

She propped herself on her elbow, touched the cross about his neck then stroked over his chest. She adored the way his body hair fanned out. It was thick but not dense, not curly either. It was silky and flat, the perfect coating of maleness.

She headed lower, slipped her fingers into his pubic hair.

“Frankie.” He opened his eyes.

“Mmm?” She wrapped her hand over his fist, the one that was around his cock.

“I’ve been thinking about this.”

“What?”

“Your hands on me.” He sucked in a breath. “Fuck. Your clever little hands on me.”

She smiled. “So let me at it.”

“Be easy with me.”

“What, the way you were with me? You didn’t give my stamina a chance.”

He nodded, a brisk up and down of his head. “True.”

“But don’t worry.” She smiled and nudged his hand away. “I want you to come inside me, so I’ll be gentle.” She stroked him with the tip of her finger, from his pubic hair to his slit. When she reached the top, she slipped her finger around the rim of his glans.

“Ahh…” He looked down. Bit on his bottom lip and watched her movements.

“You got some condoms?” she asked.

“Yeah, top drawer.” He nodded past her.

“Shall I?”

“Yeah…” He blew out a breath. “Go for it.”

She smiled and stretched across to the bedside cabinet. She tugged open the top drawer. Next to a game controller and thriller novel was a box of ribbed Durex. Grabbing it, she quickly emptied it onto the bed. There were six. She hoped that would be enough.

Selecting one in a red wrapper, she tore it open.

Dean sat upright, his cock standing proud. He was breathing slow but deep, and a sheen of sweat had appeared on his brow.

She reached for his cock and placed the condom over the tip.

“Hate these damn things,” he muttered.

“Necessary evil.”

“Tell me about it.”

She began to unfurl the latex, stretching it over his glans then unrolling it down his shaft.

“Oh, God, just watching you do that makes me want to come,” he muttered.

“Not yet, big boy.”

“Big boy?” He chuckled, but it was a strained sound.

“Yeah, big. I’m sure you’ve been told that before.”

“Not by you.” He reached for her wrists and moved her hands away from his cock. “Which makes it special.” He pushed her onto her back, still clamping his fingers around her arms.

She stared up at him and spread her legs. Beneath him, pinned to the bed, open for him. She could orgasm again just from this moment alone.

He stared down at her, his lips parted, a slight tremble traveling over his hard body.

“Get inside me,” she said. “Now.”

“If you insist.”

She angled her hips until the head of his cock pressed against her entrance. She was still so wet, pliant, and the first inch of him slipped in easily.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, more.” She couldn’t move much, but she could hook her legs behind his thighs. The action meant another inch or so of him sank into her.

Okay, so, yes, that was getting tight. But it was a good tight. If felt fucking amazing.

“Dean, I won’t break.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

He shut his eyes, appeared to lose some of his strict control, and drove forward.

She gritted her teeth and curled her hands into fists. The stitch of discomfort was exquisite. Dense and solid, he filled her so completely. “Oh, yes…”

“You’re something else,” he said breathily. “Ah, yeah.” He gave one last shunt to full depth. His balls pushed up against her, and his root stretched her entrance.

She bowed her back, curled her toes, and gripped him with her internal muscles. Even in her wildest dreams, she hadn’t thought it would feel this good. It was more than good. It was amazing, awe-inspiring, like nothing she’d experienced before.

He pulled almost out then eased back in. She groaned as he hit balls-deep again.

“Look at me.”

She opened her eyes.

“I want you to come again. With me.”

“I will, I will…”

“Like this.” He released her wrists.

Instantly, she reached for him, clutching his shoulders.

Again, he slipped almost out. When he shunted back in, he dropped his weight and gave her clit a long, hard rub with his body.

She opened her mouth but made no sound. Damn, that had hit the spot.

“You feeling it?”

“Yeah, oh, yeah, more.”

He found her mouth with his and set up a steady pace, pumping in and out of her. The bed squeaked, sweat slicked between them. She clung to him, dragged him against her chest.

Her orgasm was within reach, cresting before her. “I’m coming…”

“Thank fuck for that.” He sped up, his thrusts increasing in vigor. “Argh…fuck…it’s here.”

As he erupted into the condom, Frankie allowed her own climax to ravish her. She pressed her lips against his shoulder to prevent herself from crying out and clutched his hard ass cheeks, urging him deeper, faster, harder.

“Oh, my God…” he gasped, not letting up.

It was as though pleasure had been released into her veins, flooding her system, making each follicle of hair tingle with ecstasy. The sound of his gasps, labored breathing, and random curses filled her ears.

He pushed up, locked his arms, and stared down at where they were joined. He gritted his teeth and drew back his lips, his nose wrinkled. “Ahh…” He seated himself as deep as he could go and stilled. “Ahh….” He shut his eyes and tipped his face to the ceiling. “Yeah…”

Frankie reached up and set her hand over his chest, cupped his pec, and felt his heart racing beneath the surface of his skin.

Her own heart thudded. Her pulse raged in her ears.

She stared up at him, glorious in his moment of ecstasy, as her pussy hugged and released his shaft, working through the remainder of her climax.

A full-body tremor attacked him. He opened his eyes and looked down at her. For a moment, he looked glazed, spaced out, then he grinned.

“Good eh?”

She giggled. “Yeah, you could say that.”

He dropped down, only just taking his weight, and kissed her, hungrily, as if he’d only gotten started on what he wanted to do.

She held him close, rejoicing in their intimacy, in their connection, and allowed herself to get lost in him.

Frankie should probably have gone back to her room but as she snuggled in Dean’s arms, it wasn’t something she could do. Nor did she want to.

“You’re staying now, aren’t you?” he asked, as though reading her mind.

“If you want me to.”

“You know I do.” He shifted and traced a line along her upper arm.

She snuggled closer and breathed in the scent of his skin. She’d discovered a perfect place for her head in the groove between his neck and shoulder.

He exhaled, long and low, and hooked his leg over hers as if trapping her against him.

A smile tickled her lips, and she closed her eyes. Her body was sated and tired, her heart rate and breathing had returned to normal, and she was more content than she had been in a long while.

Within minutes, she was drifting. The onset of sleep fracturing her thoughts and jumbling up the words and images in her brain. She allowed the darkness to take her. Safe and happy, if just for this night, she needed nothing else.

There must have been a window open because the sound of a bird hailing the onset of dawn woke her. For a few minutes, she lay still, her hand over Dean’s chest and her cheek still pressed against his shoulder.

His rib cage rose and fell in the slow, steady rhythm of sleep. He’d pulled the duvet up in the night and it sat high on his waist and was tucked into her back, almost holding her to him.

Memories flooded her mind. Him kissing her. The way she’d stormed out but then strutted back in and delivered herself naked before him.

Had it really happened?

Oh, yes. And the orgasms, wow, they’d been intense. Dean had been amazing and seeing him, feeling him come had been incredible. She wanted more—more of everything, but would she ever get enough of this man?

She opened her eyes and admired the wide expanse of his chest. It was dangerous to feel this way, she knew that. There was no future for her and Dean. How could there be? He wasn’t the settling down type, and neither was she.

This was a bit of fun, nothing more, nothing less.

Fun that would have to, of course, be kept private. It wouldn’t do her street cred any good with the team if they thought she was bumping uglies with the driver. She had to maintain their respect, be a person in authority.

But, hell, she was female. She required hot male company from time to time, it was nature’s way.

She slipped her hand lower, gently scraping over his chest hair, then down beneath the light duvet.

He didn’t stir. His breathing didn’t change.

A wicked idea came to her.

She wasn’t sure what the time was, but she was sure it was early. There was no rush to get up and going for the day.

Perhaps she could get Dean up and going right now though.

Delving lower still, she inched her way through his pubic hair until she found his flaccid cock. Damn, it was an impressive size even in this state.

She took it in her palm and gave a gentle squeeze.

Nothing.

Again, she squeezed, but she added a stroke too. She was rewarded with a thickening in the shaft, not much but the start of something. She repeated the action and it bloated further.