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“No!” Catherine tightened her legs around his waist, keeping him firmly inside her. “Please don’t stop now. You feel . . .” Catherine left the statement hanging, unable to describe the incredible pleasure-pain of his cock stretching and filling her.
“No way in hell,” he promised, as he moved gently in and out. “Son of a bitch, you feel good. So tight and hot,” he said, then he moved back, sitting on his heels. “Lift up for me. I want to suck your nipples.”
Catherine pushed herself upward and wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from falling back to the bed. Now she was practically sitting in Dean’s lap, his cock seated deep. When Dean leaned forward and sucked one peak then the other, Catherine surrendered and smashed her tits against his face. Dean bit her nipple and laved at each one with slow precision, deriving several whimpers from her.
“Reach down and make yourself come,” he quietly ordered. “Do it now, sweetheart. I won’t have the control to hold myself back much longer.”
Catherine rose up and down on his shaft, fucking him slowly, leisurely, then she
slipped her right hand between their bodies and began playing with her clitoris, flicking and tugging the swollen button over and over. As her orgasm began to build, Dean pulled out all the way, then he wrapped his hands around her waist and shoved her onto his engorged length once more. “Yeah, that’s what I need. God, I love the way your body wraps around my dick. So tight. So mine.”
Catherine’s blood raced and her legs tightened around his hips as she continued to rub and pump her clit. Once. Twice. Her pussy clenched. It was too much. It was all she needed, all she could take. Throbs turned to spasms as Catherine moaned and threw her head backward, coming apart and shattering into a million pieces once more. Dean was right there with her as he shouted her name and found his own release. Hot come filled the condom as his cock pulsed and emptied into her limp body.
By the time Dean loosened his hold on her, Catherine had come back to earth. He placed a kiss to her forehead and cheeks, and Catherine melted a little more. “You’re amazing,” he said as he took hold of her head on both sides. “You make me crazy.”
Catherine didn’t know how to respond. Crazy didn’t seem so much like a good thing to her. And she was too exhausted to bother removing herself from Dean’s firm embrace. She wanted to ask him to explain his statement, but she just couldn’t muster the strength.
Instead she opted to kiss him. He quickly took over, slipping his tongue into her mouth and angling her head for a better fit. His hands sifted through her hair and held her still for his intimate invasion. Catherine tasted his warmth and masculinity. It was a flavor she wanted on her tongue over and over again. She was afraid she would crave his flavor now.
Lifting away, his hands still wrapped in her hair, Dean said, “What you do to me . . . it’s not like anything else. I don’t know what it is, and putting my feelings into words is sort of foreign to me. All I know is that it’s unique.”
Was Dean saying he cared for her? Catherine was much too afraid to hope, so instead she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Sex, Dean. It was great, but is it really any more than that?”
He was silent, staring at her with eyes that saw way too much. She looked away, unable to face the awful truth. That he enjoyed her body but may never trust her enough to want more from her.
“It’s more than sex.”
The hard tone of his voice had Catherine swinging her head back around. His eyes had gone cold. Great, she’d made him angry. Worse, she didn’t know what to say. Her emotions were all mixed up when it came to this man. Unable to think straight, Catherine lifted off his lap and went into an adjoining room, hoping it was a bathroom. She flicked a switch on the wall and saw a faucet. At least she’d gotten one thing right.
Catherine closed the door and looked around the room. Beige walls, double black sinks, and recessed lighting. The natural slate tile around the tub and inside the shower only added to the character and class of the room. She’d noticed the warmth of the tiled floor beneath her bare feet and wondered if it was heated. As she stared longingly at the huge Jacuzzi-style tub, Catherine wished she could take a long, hot soak. But she was too anxious and uncertain. Instead she opted for a quick washup.
Her hair was a wreck, and she had red splotches all over her skin from Dean’s touches and kisses. She looked . . . thoroughly loved. She shook her head and left the bathroom, but when she came back into the bedroom, Dean was already sprawled out on the bed with the covers up to his waist. She wanted to join him, but was she supposed to do that? This was her first one-night stand and she didn’t know the rules.
Catherine crossed her arms over her breasts, suddenly feeling very naked. “I suppose I should go home,” she offered.
Dean watched her in silence for a few seconds before extending a hand to her. “Stay,” he said, his voice low and rough.
She couldn’t discern his mood and she wasn’t sure staying was a great idea, but she really didn’t want the evening to end either. When she crossed the room and slipped under the covers, Dean reached over and turned off the light. A long time passed, neither of them talking or touching, and Catherine felt hollow and cold. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted to feel his warmth surrounding her. To sleep in his arms, his strength and heat enfolding her in a safe cocoon.
Suddenly, Catherine felt an arm around her middle as Dean effortlessly dragged her across the expanse separating them. He pulled her into his body, her back against his chest and slung one muscled thigh over her legs. “You’re a stubborn woman, Catherine Michaels, and I have a feeling you’re going to turn my world upside down.”
Catherine’s eyes burned with unshed tears, and her voice shook when she admitted, “It wasn’t just sex to me either.”
Dean’s lips brushed the back of her head. “Sleep for now, sweetheart. We’ll figure this thing out, I promise.”
Catherine didn’t bother to dispute him, even though she knew firsthand that to believe in a promise was like buying into false advertising. The consumer always ended up the loser.
14
Catherine woke to warmth. Too much of it actually. Usually she froze half to death at night, so why was she so warm? As she shifted around, Catherine realized her bed was lumpy and hard. What the—but then it all came slamming back at her. The nightclub. The man. The sex. Oh, God, the really great sex.
Something wet swept across her cheek, and Catherine wiped her cheek and frowned. She pried one eye open, then nearly came out of her skin when she saw a large mass of fur and teeth staring her in the face.
“Uh, nice doggie.” Catherine deliberately kept her tone soft in the hopes of not riling the animal. The dog, a Rottweiler if she wasn’t mistaken, only continued to stare at her, his tongue hanging out of one side of his mouth. She couldn’t tell if the big animal was happy or hungry. She peeked around the bulky body and noticed the mutt’s stubby tail wagging back and forth. “Okay, that’s a good sign.” Deciding to take a chance that the large toothy creature was friendly, Catherine reached out a hand, palm up, and let him investigate. He sniffed her first, then as if satisfied with her scent he proceeded to lick her.
“Now that we have the meet and greet over with, I can honestly say you are a really intimidating dog.” When he plopped his large head on her stomach, all but begging to be petted, Catherine smiled and gave in. His fur was soft and shiny, well cared for. Dean had a dog? Why hadn’t she seen him before? “You’re a big pushover, aren’t you?” She frowned as something else occurred to her. “And where is your owner?” Dean was nowhere in sight. She stretched her arms above her head, yawning herself awake, and wondered if he’d sent the dog in his place so he wouldn’t have to deal with the awkward morning after. “He’s not getting off that easily,” Catherine said to the dog as she gently pushed the Rott off her stomach and legs. When feeling came back to her limbs, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, I’m not paralyzed. Things are looking up.” When she stood, the cool air in the room brought goose bumps to the surface. She’d slept naked. It’d been great while she was cuddled up to Dean, all warm and cozy. She let a grin slip over her face as she recalled the way he’d woken her in the middle of the night to make love to her. Twice. It’d been pure bliss both times.
“Okay, sleeping with the man was probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done,” she mumbled to herself. Try as she might, Catherine couldn’t quite bring herself to regret it either, even though she had no idea what it meant for their relationship, or lack thereof. Dean had been passionate and sweet and totally overwhelming. It’d been so perfect it was scary.
