Love Me Back

Ch. 9

Ch. 9 // Deja *Smut later on ⚠️*

When we get to the movie place, which is only a couple of doors down from the party, it's pretty packed. There are about 15 people in the living room trying to find a place to sit. At least the AC is on blast, so it's much cooler in here than where we were just at.

"Yeah, you two are the last people," the guy at the front door says as he points to me and Dacre. I assume this is his apartment.

"Drinks and snacks are in the kitchen," he adds.

"I'm good on alcohol," Dacre says to me as we walk down the entryway.

"Same, but I want some snacks."

Before we find a spot, we head to the kitchen to grab some bags of popcorn and cans of juice. We then head over to the last spot available in the corner of the room and sit side by side on the floor.

As soon as I take a drink of my juice, I notice something about the taste. I check the label and see the word "spiked".

"Damn this hard seltzer or something," I say to Dacre. I really didn't want to drink any more alcohol.

Dacre looks at his and hisses, "I thought it was an Izze or something. I can get us some water if you like."

~

We're halfway through the movie, but I haven't been paying attention. I can't pay attention when Dacre is right beside me shirtless. When we're pressed up against each other. When his arm is over my shoulder and he's massaging my elbow. All that plagues my mind are dirty thoughts and images. Thoughts of him kissing me and taking off my clothes. Pushing me onto his bed and spreading my legs open.

"Dacre," I whisper in his ear as I place my hand on his thigh, "do you know how hot you are?"

He immediately turns his head towards me, his eyes wide with surprise and excitement, "w-what?

"I said, do you know how hot you are?" I whisper again leaning closer to him, pressing my hard nipples against him. He silently looks around before dragging a blanket over us.

"What do you want to do?" He asks in a sexy low whisper, his eyes never leaving mine. I move my hand from his thigh to the waistband of his jean, making sure to pass the bulge in his pants. His breath hitches as I slip my hand under his waistband and softly grab the base of his dick.

"I want to touch you, but I need you to teach me how to. Tell me what to do."

"Fucccck," Dacre hisses as he bites his bottom lip and props up a leg, "unzip my pants and pull out my cock." I manage to unzip and unbuckle his pants with one hand, then draw his dick out of his boxers. I'm tempted to look under the blanket and see what he looks like, but I resist the urge.

"Now, start slowly stroking," he says. I grab his base again and start moving up and down his hard shaft, lightly squeezing as I move my hand.

"The tip," he softly grunts out. I'm not entirely sure what he means, but when I reach the top of his shaft, I start massaging his head. As I do, his breathing deepens and I feel small beads of warm sticky fluid dripping from him.

"Just like that, Deja," he breathes out as I increase my pace. As I'm playing with him, I can feel my body respond. My nipples ache to be touched and teased. My pussy is incredibly wet and swollen from desire; practically begging to be touched, stretched, or filled. I don't think I have ever been this turned on.

Then, as if he read my mind, Dacre starts unzipping my unitard and slips his hand inside. Immediately, he goes to my breast and fondles it. Gently massaging and pinching my nipple before heading south. When his hand cups my pussy, I can't help but stop jacking him off. He then spreads apart my folds and softly glides his fingers between them.

"Damn, you're so wet," he says, his warm breath tickling my neck as he gently circles my clit with two fingers, "Who are you wet for? Who got you this wet?"

"You," I softly moan as I spread my legs further and shift my hips. Waves of hot arousal ripple throughout my body as he quickens the pace and increases the pressure of his fingers. A moan claws at my throat, but I bit it back; we're still in some stranger's living room, surrounded by others, watching American Psycho.

The fear of getting caught is quickly replaced by intense carnal pleasure as Dacre circles my entrance and rubs my clit at the same time. "Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers?" Dacre asks.

"Mmh hm," I mummer because I'm scared that if I open my mouth, it won't be words coming out.

"Say it," the authority and control in his voice nearly throw me off the ledge.

"I-"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me"

I look up into his hypnotic hazel eyes and open my mouth, "I-I want you to fuck me with your fingers," I say slowly between labored breaths.

"Good girl," he says as he slips two fingers inside me. I can't help but let out a small cry as my eyes roll back and he applies pressure to my clit.

"Now, wake up," I hear him say.

"What?" I ask, cracking my eye open.

"Wake up Deja."

After the second time, I open my eyes and arise from my slumber in confusion. I'm still in that stranger's dark living room, but the ending credits of the movie are playing and I'm laying on an incredibly soft pillow. When I look up, Dacre is looking down at me, so I guess I'm on his lap.

"Hey sleepy head," Dacre says.

"Was I sleeping?" I ask him and he nods. What the fuck? So it was a dream. A fucking dream. Literally and figuratively. It was all in my fucking head.

"Are you serious," I mutter as I throw off the blanket covering me and sit up, trying to ignore the wetness between my thighs. "Why the fuck did you wake me up?"

"The movie is over and we don't know these people so..." He says.

Everything he says makes sense, but I'm still angry. I'm angry at myself for having that kind of dream. I'm angry that it was even a dream. And I'm angry that he woke me up.

Did I seriously just have a sex dream? I grab the pillow on his lap and smack my face with it a couple of times.

"Damn, was your dream that good?"

"It was beyond good," I say, looking him dead in his eyes.