I laughed, craning my neck to look up at him. “I hope you know I’m not as much in need of protection as my brother thinks I am,” I replied.
Dylan chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, I didn’t believe it for a second,” he said honestly.
His motorcycle was parked a couple blocks over, near the arena. Dylan dropped his arm from around my shoulders as we got closer, no doubt wondering like me if we would run into Bobby. I doubted it. He was probably hanging out with his friends by now.
I nevertheless glanced around as Dylan handed me the spare helmet. I climbed on the back of the bike behind him and wrapped my arms around him, my fingers lying flat against his six pack. The ride back to my place, with me nudging Dylan to direct him, was every bit as thrilling as I expected. By the time we arrived, I could feel heat pooling in my panties. I knew I should at least get him inside before making out with him, but the second the helmet was off, I was leaning in for a kiss.
The angle was interesting and different, with him still sitting astride his bike while I stood over him. It made me feel powerful somehow, like I was the one in control. At least until he nipped at my lower lip and I practically melted onto the pavement. Who was in control now?
Dylan grinned at me and I groaned, tugging at his hand. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s try and actually make it to a bed this time.”
He chuckled and followed me inside, kicking the door shut behind him. He was on me immediately, his mouth sealed to mine, his tongue playing with my own. I would have crumbled to the floor, my knees turning to jelly, if he hadn’t wrapped an arm around my lower back.
We continued to make out until I was breathless and desperate for more. He pulled away from my lips, letting me catch my breath, his lips grazing my jawline and the shell of my ear, his facial hair rasping against my feverish skin. “Where’s your bedroom?” he breathed against my ear.
I took his hand and tugged him along with me, nearly tripping over myself in an effort to get to my room quickly. I expected Dylan to laugh at my clumsiness, but when we reached my bedroom I found out that he looked just as impatient and desperate as I felt.
We both started stripping like eager teenagers, eyeing one another hungrily as each new inch of skin was revealed. He was just as covered with tattoos as I’d imagined. I stumbled over to him, dragging my fingers along his art, making him shiver in response. I kissed him again, just as hungrily as before, but with the added feeling of having my bare breasts pressed against his skin, his rough palms playing along my naked form.
He pushed me down on the bed and eagerly climbed on top of me, his prick dragging against the inside of my thigh, teasing me. I shifted a hand down between us, massaging his thick length. He rocked his hips towards mine, letting his member drag along my wet folds. There was just enough friction against my clit to make me gasp and arch against him, eager for more. He caught my hands and pinned them to the bed, making me whine in response.
For a moment, he simply stared down at me while I wriggled against him in anticipation. I couldn’t find the words to tell him what I wanted. Not that he should have needed any words. He must have known how much I wanted him.
He slowly shifted his hips again and I realized he was doing it on purpose, slowing things down to tease me, holding me in place so that I couldn’t do anything but lay there and take it. He wanted to make me beg for more. He wanted to make me scream.
I groaned. “Please,” I whispered in a breathy voice.
He grinned. “You can do better than that,” he said before kissing along my neck and jaw, making me quiver with each tender touch.
“Dylan,” I whimpered, my hips shifting restlessly against the sheets. “I need it.”
“What do you need?” he asked.
I turned my face to the side, half burying my blush against the pillow. “I need to cum,” I mumbled.
Dylan rewarded me with a smile, his fingers leaving my wrist to give me a congratulatory kiss. Then, with no warning, he thrust into me.
I cried out, twisting restlessly in the sheets. “Yes, yes, yes,” I hissed, grabbing at him with my fingers, pulling his hard, tattooed body even closer to mine. He nipped at my collarbones, a painful high point in the midst of all the pleasure. My body felt like clay in his hands, completely at his mercy.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, my hips juddering against his, increasing the rhythm. For a moment, Dylan let me go as fast as I wanted before his hands caught my hips, holding me in place and slowing things down once again. I shuddered against the crook of his neck before raising my head and shivering at his darkened eyes, burning with passion.
He caught my ankles, pulling them to rest on his shoulders. The change in angle brought him deeper inside and made me gasp again. Fuck, he filled me so completely. I couldn’t get over how good he felt inside, filling me up so perfectly.
Even if he seemed determined to be the death of me, still only making small, incremental movements.
I arched against the pillows, hands twisting in the sheets as I searched for anything that would give me purchase and let me dictate the rhythm for once. But I was powerless to do
