His fingers traced lazy circles across my stomach, slowly creeping lower and lower to the band of my pants. The button opened easily, and I lifted my hips as he tugged gently on my pants. He continued with his policy of kissing every inch of skin bared to him, his tongue grazing the soft flesh of my thigh down to my calves.
I leaned my head back into the pillow, losing myself to the sensation. His teeth nibbled on the tender fold of my knee, his breath hot on my exposed skin. I lay on the bed, bare but for my panties, bra, and open shirt. Every touch sent a thrill straight into the core of my body.
Dean worked his way back up my legs, his soft kisses tickling the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I sat up, taking his chin in my fingers and bringing him in to kiss my mouth. I needed his kiss. His fingers slipped the shirt from my shoulders, and he escaped my hungry mouth to kiss their bare tops. I moaned, tangling my fingers in his short hair.
One graceful finger slid along the length of my bra strap, tracing the lacy fabric down across the tops of my breasts. I was breathing hard, my chest rising and falling with his finger. A shiver of anticipation rolled through me.
He leaned forward and kissed the top of my right breast. My heart fluttered in my chest, the primal ache growing harder to resist. I wanted his body so badly I could taste it, but I didn't want to stop. His every touch was a drug, and I was hooked.
Dean's warm hand caressed my side, tracing the bra to the back clasp. He struggled with it for a moment, finally making a frustrated noise as the clasp refused to yield. He looked up at me, his disappointment and insurmountable need pouring over me. My breath caught at his gaze, the sheer volume of desire catching me off guard.
I giggled, twisting my hands behind me to do it myself. I felt the wire release, and slowly, I lowered the lacy fabric. I bit my lip, watching Dean's face as the fabric fell away. His eyes dilated and his mouth opened in wordless appreciation. His eyes met mine, dark and hungry. I was vibrating with want for him.
With that perfect half-smile, he reached past my ear, snagging the hair-band holding my hair. My hair fell from the makeshift bun in dark waves around my shoulders. Dean hissed with appreciation, making me feel like the most beautiful creature on the face of the earth.
"So damn beautiful," he murmured. His mouth found my breast, gently pushing me back onto the pillow with his hand. His tongue strummed the pink flesh like a guitar string, sending beautiful vibrations through my body. I pressed his head into my chest, arching my back to give him better access.
A jolt of pleasure surged through me as his fingers found my pleasure center. He made slow circles on the outside of my light pink panties, revving my internal engines to full power. I lost all sense of time and space. The only thing that existed was Dean and my pleasure. It wasn't long before the sheer intensity of the fire burning within me overcame all my senses. Ecstasy rolled through me in waves, pure bliss washing through every fiber of my being.
When I could breathe again, I reached for him. I didn't want to wait any longer. I craved him. I needed him. I had needed him for so long and I didn't have t
o wait any longer. I clawed at his pants, desperate to have him. He laughed as he wiggled free, showing me that he didn't have anything on underneath. No wonder his ass had looked so good.
He stood before, bathed in soft moonlight. He moved to the nightstand, fishing a small square packet from a corner drawer and hastily putting it on. He didn't want to wait any longer either.
He was between my legs in less than a moment, his masculine scent heady and intoxicating. I could feel his massive manhood pressing against me, seeking entrance, and as we made eye contact, he entered.
My body sang with pleasure. I cried out his name, feeling the two of us finally joining as one. We were no longer separate or alone. We were together. I gripped the headboard, feeling my knuckles go white as he delved deeply into me. My back arched with every thrust, wanting to take him ever deeper inside of me.
Our eyes never left one another. His winter-blue eyes peered into my soul, the two of us speaking volumes without words. He kissed me softly, his lips gentle yet insistent for more. My body was on fire for his touch, the ache unbearable. I wrapped my legs around him, and with all my strength rolled to the side.
He made a surprised growl, but grinned as he saw me straddle him. He moved his hands to the headboard, groaning softly as I began to writhe up and down, sliding and enjoying every inch of him. His face contorted into a mask of pleasure, his arms tensing as I found a rhythm.
I could barely stand it, the pleasure of having him inside me coursing through me in waves. Every centimeter, every touch was something I had craved. I had dreamed of this for twenty years, and the reality was so much better than the fantasy.
I slowed my pace and leaned down to kiss him. As if waiting for his moment, he wrapped his arms around me and flipped me back onto my back. I didn't mind, though. I loved looking up, seeing his arms and chest flexing above me and the way his waist tapered into a delicious V. His hips rocked back and forth, sending undulations of pleasure into me.
His pace quickened, his breathing coming in shallow pants. His eyes drifted closed as sweet climax washed over him. I cried out, and Dean's low ragged answering groan filled my ears. I clung to him, pulling him into me, never wanting him to leave. I felt his release wash over the inside of my body. With slowing strokes, he shuddered and his body relaxed.
Moments later, he rolled to his side, his eyes searching my face. Happiness like I hadn't seen in years spread across his features. He brushed the hair out of my eyes, smiling as he kissed me. My world was perfect.
The dark night wrapped the two of us like a warm blanket. I could hear the fire crackle in the other room. Dean was solid beside me, his arms wrapped tight around me as though he were afraid I might run off into the night. I never wanted to leave.
The moon peeked through the window, casting the room in silver shadows. The light danced across the sheets, turning them into an ocean of pleasure, and the air sparkled with promise. A single moonbeam soared through the window, landing on a small painting on Dean's nightstand. I sat up on my elbow, peering over him to look at it. It was the painting from the beach.
"What are you looking at?" Dean asked. His voice was rough and incredibly sexy. A shiver of desire went up my spine, and I kissed his cheek before leaning over and picking it up. He cocked his head, a boyish grin on his face as my chest passed in front of his face, but I managed to pick up the painting and settle back into the nook of his arm.
"I can't believe you still have this," I said softly, tracing the dark lines of the silhouette. He cuddled me in closer to him, his lips against my hair.
"I told you, I went back and got it. It's my favorite work of art." His breath tickled against my cheek.
"Even more than the Renoir on your mantle?" I asked. I had a feeling it was real, but if it wasn't, it was still expertly done. If it was real, it was worth a fortune.
"Even more than the Renoir." He kissed me softly. "I only have a love of art because you gave it to me."
"I love you, Dean." The words came out easily, as though I had always said them. In my heart, I had said them every day since I had met him.
He squeezed me tighter, his arms strong and safe. "I love you, too." he whispered. No words had ever felt so good. Happiness and contentment surged through every inch of my being. Things felt right in the world. He nuzzled my hair, kissing me gently. I nestled into the crook of his arm, resting my ear against his chest. His heart beat in my ear, rhythmic and soothing.