Jared's P.O.V.:
My eyes open wide to the familiar white ceiling. I prop myself up, hand resting on my pillow that was soaked with sweat. I wiped my forehead and steadied my shakey, uneven breathing. All I could hear was my heart, beating like a motherfucker.
The sun still hadn't yet crept through the curtains. Dawson was asleep, covered all except for her chest with the blankets. Comfort flooded me as I realized that it was all a dream. That hellish car ride was only something my mind had fabricated. I took a deep breath and sighed, running a hand through my hair. I looked at the bed side clock which read 4:45 in the morning.
I sat up, giving up on sleep, and slicked my hair back. Sweat was sticky on my forehead and my hair stuck together because of it.
I rummaged through the drawers for clothes, making sure to miss the clothes I saw in the dream. I grabbed what I needed and headed to the bathroom.
I started the shower and waited a few minutes. I stared at myself, bags hanging under my eyes, sleep still fainty lingering in my expression. I shook my head and got in, steam thick already.
Blistering hot water ran down my back, working out the knots that dream gave me. It melted my skin, but it let me know that I was here, I was awake.
The shower curtain slipped back and Dawson's silly smile peeked through.
I smile, "What are you doing up?"
"I could ask you the same thing." She sneaks in, wrapping herself on me. Her hands snake around my neck and her lips find mine, waiting for me. My hands slide down her sides and pinch her ass. She giggles, smiling through our kiss.
I pick her up and her legs tighten around my waist. I felt her breasts pressed against my chest, her hips close to my coco. She was slippery, the water still burning our skin. We didn't fucking care, that was the thing, I couldn't get enough of Dawson. She was intoxicating, I wanted her, just as I did the first time we kissed.
I slammed her against the wall and a little wail escaped her, my blood pumping. She held my head between her palms, keeping her lips tightly pressed against mine. We fed on each other's excitement, on each other's lust.
Between breathes Dawson suggested we get our before we slip and fall.
I set her down but keep a grip on her wrist. I shut off the water, open the curtain, help Dawson and myself out in one swift motion. I couldn't stand how hard she already made me, I couldn't control how badly I wanted her.
She pulls me to the bed, both of us still dripping from the shower, but neither of us giving a shit.
I playfully throw her on the bed, exposing all of her sweet spots. She arched her back as I lean over her, my cock brushes her thighs. Her lips part, and she holds her breath as I kiss the drops of water on her neck. I felt the sun starting to come through the room, drying my back.
My kisses trailed between her breasts and I could smell her perfume that had been left despite the shower. I kissed under her breast, lightly teething her breast. Dawson moaned, grabbing a fistfull of my hair.
She pulled my head up to her mouth where she kissed me, biting my lip before whispering, "Fuck me."
I smirk, and kiss Dawson again before I rub the tip of my cock against her. She squirms and groans as I toy with her.
"Jared just fuck me, oh god!" she squeals as I finally slide My cock into her core. Her hips buck as I pump in and out, her fists gripping the bedsheets.
"Oh fuck!" she screams and throws her head back. I rock in and out, leaning over her, breathing in her sweet scent, sweat beading on her forehead. Her nails rake across my back, making me dig deeper, pumping harder. She gasps as I grasp her breast, massaging it and kissing her as I go harder. "Fuck!" I mutter, biting my lip.
I feel myself getting closer to orgasming with each grind, going faster. Dawson gasps for breath, hands now behind her white knucklong the comforter.
"Oh god!" I yell, climaxing, but keep pumping. Dawson finishes not far after me, breathless and sweaty. I fall to her side, limp with satisfaction and exhaustion.
We lay together, both sweaty and out of breath, with smiles on our faces. I grasp a handful of my hair and I hold Dawson's hand with the other.
"I don't know what I would do without you." I whisper, running my thumb over Dawson's hand.
"Don't think that way," Dawson whispers back, turning on her side to face me, "I'm yours."
