Burn Out *18+*

Chapter 30

I didn't question it when Dexter told me to drive him back to his place. I didn't push his hand off my thigh or try to unravel the stupid letter. I did my best to follow the traffic laws while my head was still spinning and decided that I could ask nothing more from myself at this point. Differentiating colours seemed to be enough.

No words were spoken when I parked the Camry on his driveway. We walked to his front door together, hand in hand. And the second that door was shut behind us, I was pressed up against it, his lips on the side of my neck.

"Where is your roommate?" I panted, well aware that this could be the last rational thought I could get out for a while.

"Working until this evening," Dexter rasped like it was the last thing on his mind.

For a moment after that the only thought that occupied my mind was how he tasted and where he had learned to do that with his tongue. My fingers were curled hard into the thick muscles of his traps, letting his weight pin me to the door as he kissed me for all he was worth. While I was eager to touch and stroke, he was slow and calm, keeping his hands firmly planted on my hips. I was all feverish gasps and he was all control.

He was the guiding force that pulled me to his bedroom while I mewed in protest. I wanted more of him. Hell, I wanted all of him, and I wanted it now, right where I was. He wasn't bothered by the fact that I was trying to grip his belt or that I was complaining. He held one of my hands firmly and dragged me to a place I hadn't been in a long time. His bedroom looked the same as it always had, clothes on the floor, random car keys and measurement tools around as if this were an office in a mechanic shop.

"Are you using my bedroom to assess my psychological state?" he asked from behind me. he must have caught my brief second of hesitation.

"You haven't gotten any neater, have you?" I teased.

"Doubt I ever will, Lonny," he murmured. "I have a few other things that I would prefer to work on." He slid his body right behind, letting me feel his rigid length against my ass. "But I know you're stubborn. If you would rather spend time teaching me some organizational skills..."

"Shut up." I pressed my mouth to his, his only response a little chuckle.

I was pushed onto his bed and couldn't have cared enough to fight. While he climbed on top of me, kissing his way over my collarbones and chest, I waited for him to tell me to get my hands off of him, or to give me some kind of order. I wanted to hear him call me sweetheart again. He said nothing, only moaning softly against my skin as he pushed my drop-shoulder blouse out of the way. Any complaints I could have had evaporated from my mind when he nudged my bra aside and captured one of my nipples in his mouth.

"So sensitive already?" he murmured with a smile when my hips bucked.

"Yes."

"Good, I'm going to enjoy you tonight and I want to know when I do something just right."

I doubted that man could do any wrong in that moment.

A hand slid up my stomach, pushing my top out of the way. Dexter only grinned when I shivered. A quick scrape of nails down my stomach made my whole body tighten, then he was pushing a flat palm against my core through my leggings. The pressure was just enough to make my eyes roll back.

It was good. It was amazing. But I felt my patience slither away. I wanted him now. He didn't protest when I eased him back and rose to my feet to take off my top and leggings. And he didn't complain when I pushed him down on the bed while only wearing the black plunging bra that he had skewed and satin panties. I straddled his muscular thighs, going for his belt.

"You're a vixen," he whispered, almost to himself with his head tipped back.

"Condoms?"

"Bedside table, top drawer."

I felt almost frantic as I rolled the condom down his length. Not because I was afraid that he was going to take control back. Not because I was scared that I was going to come to my senses and stop this once and for all. No, I was afraid that I was breaking. I could feel it in my chest. I saw the way his eyes shone with adoration; felt the way he had melted into my arms each time I held him. Every second with him made my resistance grow smaller. And today, being at that race with him, I knew it was the end.

I wasn't having sex with him because I craved the hair pulling and the dominance. I wasn't seducing him to toy with him after he had pissed me off. There was no roughness now and there was nothing to win.

"What are you thinking, Lonny?" Dex prompted when he saw my distant expression and my slowed motion.

"Us," I blurted, the honesty burning like the finest of whiskeys.

There was the quickest flicker of a grin on Dex's face before I tossed my leg back over him and pulled my panties to the side. I knew that when I sank down on him, there wasn't room for another thought in his head.

I rode him slow and steady. His hands found my hips and followed their motion but didn't push or pull. His copper coloured eyes studied my face, a mix between awe and relief on his features. I couldn't imagine that I looked any different, hands planted on his chest as I slid up and down his length, knowing that all of this could be mine if I had the courage to reach out and take it.

Dexter was the one that prompted a change of positions, but it was clear that it had nothing to do with controlling the situation or controlling me. The excitement and the desperation had stunned him, but wasn't enough, wasn't what we both were craving. If we had wanted a half-clothed fuck, we could have snuck into a trailer at the race or just parked in a dark alley.

Dexter stripped me down with reverence, kissing every part of me as it was revealed and I moaned and squirmed through it all. This time, when he undressed himself the rest of the way, I blatantly stared. I hadn't said the words out loud yet, but watching him now, I knew that he was mine. He had to be.

Dex gently pushed me onto my side, moving behind me so I could feel the strong expanse of his chest as he slid inside me. never before had I loved the feel of a man's skin like this. Never before had I wanted to whisper soft words in his ear or trace my fingers over his back. For now, I tipped my head back against the crook of his neck.

"Like this?" he whispered, his fingers brushing so softly against my clit as he thrust into me.

"Oh, yes."

I did what he wanted. I showed him every time his touch set me on fire. I bucked and moaned. I shook and shivered. My mouth was loud but my body was louder. It sung for him.

When my climax hit me, I was fully aware that I was falling apart for this man, far beyond sexual desire. My soul was bare. I had shown him my weakness. I had made him my weakness.

And when I fell apart, I trusted that he would put me back together.

~~~Question of the Day~~~

What is the most expensive thing you have broken?