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I'm more than happy to obey.
When Dean thrusts in again, the change in angle almost undoes me right here and now. The blunt head of his cock is pressing against a bundle of nerves deep in my channel, sending earth-shattering waves of pleasure through me. He starts to pick up the pace, fucking into me in long, deep strokes.
"Dean," I moan, arching my back and digging my fingers into his shoulders.
"Does it feel good, baby?" For the first time, there's a tightness to his words. I'm affecting him just as much as he is affecting me.
"Y-yes," I stutter, moaning and writhing beneath him. "So good."
And it's God's honest truth. Nothing, and I mean nothing, has ever felt as good as this. I've never been so connected to anyone, and this grumpy, gorgeous man is shaking the foundations of my world with every stroke of his cock into my body.
I know I'm going to come, harder than I've ever thought possible. What I don't know is if my mind will even be intact once it's done...because it already feels like the pleasure is making me lose it.
"I'm not gonna last much longer, Delia," he confesses, and this single moment of vulnerability has my inner walls fluttering around him. "But from what I'm feeling, you're not either."
I can't answer. The words get stuck in my throat, and I can feel my toes curling and the wave of an orgasm coming closer.
"Let go, baby," Dean whispers, kissing the corner of my lips. "Come for Daddy. Let me feel your pretty little pussy come."
It's an order. There's no hesitation in his voice, and that's what sends me over the edge. I cry out, a sharp, broken sound that's a mix of a moan and his name. Then, it's just bliss and the heat of his come filling me.
Dean collapses on top of me, breathing heavily, holding only some of his weight on his elbows. I don't care about the crushing, though. I love it—the feeling of his hot, hard body against mine.
Seconds pass as the aftershocks of my orgasm fire off inside me. It's quiet, and all I can hear is our heavy breaths and the rapid beating of my heart. It's pounding so hard, I can feel it everywhere.
"Delia," he says, breaking the silence.
"Hmm?" I’m still unable to speak.
He shifts his weight but doesn't pull out of me. Instead, he looks down at me and smiles. "You're so fucking beautiful." He traces my lips with his thumb. "So beautiful, and all mine."
His words hit a raw, exposed part of me, and tears sting the back of my eyes. I look away, embarrassed that I'm getting emotional.
"Hey." He cups my chin, turning my face to him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." I sniffle and then laugh. "God, this is so embarrassing."
"Princess, why are you crying?"
"I don't know." I hiccup. "I just...nobody has ever talked to me the way you do or made me feel the way you do. Nobody has ever treated me the way you do, and I don't know what any of it means."
Dean sighs, rolling off me, and I panic. I'm scared I've ruined this.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin the mood," I ramble. "And we don't have to cuddle or anything if you don't want to. I just thought after that we could..."
Dean wraps an arm around me, pulling me against his side, and I trail off. Oh...okay. This is nice.
"I have no intention of letting you go." He nips the shell of my ear, molding his body around mine, my back against his chest. His words make it hard to breathe. This feels like something more than just a fuck. Something way, way more. And then he has to remind me of his real personality. "So I'm not going to. Because I make the rules, remember?"
"Dean," I breathe.
"What?"
I can't help but laugh. "You're such an asshole."
"Maybe, but I'm your asshole."
"Is that so?"
