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“God, Dylan,” she said. “You make me feel so good about myself. I feel like I’m the one that has to repay you.”
Dylan felt like he was reborn. She had healed his heart with her eyes, her words, her relentless understanding. He ran his hands up her body, resting on her shoulders, then leaned his head close to hers. He felt her heartbeat pick up the pace, her breath catching in her throat. His lips lingered over hers, supple and pink beneath his hunger. He needed to show her how thankful he was for her.
“You should always feel good about yourself,” he crooned, untucking her leg from beneath her bum and pulling it around his waist. “Now, I’m going to make sure you feel so good that you see stars.”
Their lips finally touched, and they groaned in unison. The wet spots from their tears had dried, replaced with anticipatory perspiration. They lost themselves in each other as Dylan pulled her other leg around him, pressing her pelvis against his as he yanked her to straddle him on the couch.
Dylan’s hands wandered her body frantically, feeling like he was falling deeper, head over heels, for the woman on top of him. She ran her hands through his hair wildly, rubbing herself against him as he felt his cock harden.
He had never revealed that part of himself to anyone. Not even his mother or Gibson. He didn’t think he was worthy of forgiveness, which meant that, in turn, he wasn’t worthy of love.
But Rose had changed something in him. The fire that had died out was coming back to life, sparkling through the touch of her skin, the wet feel of her lips, and the way her voice sang in his ear. He was slowly stitching himself back together and could finally see the dawn in his endless night.
She parted from his lips, breathless, then gave him a naughty look.
“Baby,” she breathed. “What are you doing to me?”
TWELVE
DYLAN
Dylan felt like he had been reborn. It was stunning how heavy grief and shame could make a person, and he hadn't realized how palpable it was until it fell off his shoulders. Like an anchor that had been holding him in place, Dylan let it go, allowing the weight to disintegrate into dust as he ran his hands up and down Rose’s back.
They kissed deeply as she straddled him on the couch, rolling her big breasts into his chest and tangling her hands in his hair. She moaned beautifully. It was like music to Dylan’s ears as he unclipped her bra beneath her blouse in a single motion.
She pulled away from him with her mouth agape, her eyes dazzling playfully.
“You’re bad,” she crooned.
Dylan bit his lip and proceeded to unbutton her blouse, top to bottom. She watched him, her hips instinctively bucking against him as he set her body loose. Her breasts cascaded down in front of him, and he let out a deep grunt.
Rose giggled as she tossed her clothing aside and then pulled his face close to her chest. Dylan engulfed himself in her sweet, floral fragrance, opening his mouth so he could swallow even a bit of a drop more. He moved his lips down the front of her supple neck as she groaned, nipping at her throat and then the valley between her breasts.
Once he let his tongue out, touching her skin like it was made of gold, she twitched and whispered his name. Dylan could feel his beast coming alive, finally open and able to devour her completely.
“Dylan,” she murmured, hands still tangled in his hair. “I want you so bad. Please, please take me.”
Dylan lifted his eyes to her, giving her a smirk from between her breasts. He kissed the curves laboriously, with her fiery green orbs watching him the entire time. Her impatience was ravishing, and she belonged on a wall in the Louver.
He kept his mischievous gaze fixed on his gorgeous goddess as he slid his hand under the skirt and between her thighs and then pushed past her silk panties. She trembled violently once he finally touched her core, the pulsing embers of her clit coming alive.
“Dylan!” she moaned.
He wanted to please her more than anything in the entire world. What she had done for him was astronomical, life-changing, and surreal. She had helped him split his heart open, watched it spill all over the ground, and took the time to help him pick up the pieces.
No one had come close to that in his entire existence. Even as he slipped two fingers into her gloriously wet pussy, he was starting to believe that what had happened with Jazzy truly wasn’t his fault.
“Fuck, baby!” Her whimpers sang through the dark room, light pooling in from the distant streetlamp.
Dylan breathed in sharply as he sank himself deep inside her, two fingers exploring her walls, the thumb ever-present on her throbbing clit. He began thrusting slowly, laying his head back against the couch and watching her writhe beneath his touch.
Rose had her eyes closed and pumped her hips against his hand. Her hands glided up over her tummy and cupped her tits. She began kneading them as she met his thrusts rhythmically, lost in carnal desire.
“Jesus, Rose,” Dylan muttered. “I am so fucking addicted to you. You are beyond sexy.”
With her eyes still closed, moving her fingers over her nipples and squeezing them lightly, Rose smiled. She continued riding his fingers, moving faster and faster, urgency fueling her movements. Dylan felt his cock, hard as a brick in his pants, responding to the wet drips of her.
“Baby,” she moaned, moving her hips faster against him. “Faster. I need it faster.”
