Her Best Men - Page 43

He slammed into me one last time and stilled, his dick painting my walls with his arousal. I could feel it filling my pussy, dripping out with each pump that overfilled my body. I collapsed onto the bar, feeling him drop to me as his hands slid down my arms. We were caught up in climaxes as his hands found mine, our fingers lacing together as he pinned me to the bar.

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It felt right to be underneath him.

It felt right to be in Dylan’s arms.

We panted as the smell of our sex swirled around the bar. He nuzzled my neck, sending goosebumps ricocheting down my back. He slid his cock from between my legs, sending our mixed fluids running down my leg.

“Let me get you something for that,” he said. “Hold on.”

He helped steady me on my feet. I gathered up my clothes and pulled my dress over my head, then felt something cool and wet against my hand. I looked down and saw the washcloth Dylan was handing me, but I also saw the way his fingers reached for mine.

The way his body still wanted to touch me.

“I’ve always wanted to do that with you, Katie.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Oh yes. For a long time now. But that? That was—”

I looked up at him, taking the washcloth from his hand.

“That was better than I’d ever imagined it could be.”

“I feel the same way, Dylan.”

I smiled up at him before I rose to my toes and gave him one last kiss. Then I turned to the bar and started cleaning it off. I bent down and cleaned up the mess we’d made below our bodies, but before I could clean my leg, he took the rag from me.

“Let me help,” Dylan said.

I watched him kneel before me as he took my leg in his hands. The cool washrag ran up my leg, catching the mess we’d left behind. One of his hands held the rag steady while the other slid up my leg, keeping me steady as he approached my thighs. I trembled as his eyes connected with mine, watching me closely as he slid the rag over my pussy folds.

I jolted as he grazed my clit again, a shit-eating grin crossing his cheeks.

“There,” he said. “All clean.”

“Thanks,” I said breathlessly.

“Now, as far as you drivin’, it’s not happenin’ tonight. You can stay in one of the empty guest rooms on the second floor. Let me go look in the system and find you one.”

“I’m sure I’m fine to—”

“Not on my watch, Katie,” he said firmly. “It’ll only take me two seconds. Stay here.”

I watched him leave to find me a spare room, my head spinning. What in the world had just happened? There was so much to unpack and process, and I was still hazy from the beer. So many admissions and so many things experienced and felt.

I wish Dylan hadn’t left.

I wanted him here again.

“Okay,” he said. “Got you a room. On the second floor, room 2102. You can crash there, and grab something to wear from our little boutique, on the house. Got you a wake-up call set for six so you got plenty of time to get ready and eat before eight.”

“Thank you,” I said. “That’s very kind.”

Dylan leaned forward and kissed my cheek before he took the rag from my hand. He ushered me over to the exit, and I took the hint, feeling him slide the keycard for the room into my palm. I looked back at him one last time, feeling him watching me as I made my way to the stairs.

I just had sex with Dylan.

Tags: Rye Hart Erotic
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