Not Quite Mine
Page 45

 Catherine Bybee

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“Most women wear underwear.”
“Not like you, Katie. Never like you. It’s like Christmas every time I unwrap you. You’ve made me hard just wondering what color, what shape, was hidden under your clothes.”
Pure feminine bliss rolled over her. He’d thought about her, wondered about her long before now.
He kissed the crease between her thigh and her hip. “What color did you wear at the wedding?” he asked.
Hot air forced from his mouth threatened her ability to speak. “G-gold and white s-satin.”
Dean growled.
He pushed her panties aside and placed his lips where the cloth had been. He was there, in exactly the right place, rolling his tongue in delightful swirls as if tasting the perfect ice cream from a tiny cone.
She couldn’t breathe. Dean found her pleasure and didn’t relent until she called his name and rode out the first orgasm she’d had in what felt like forever.
“How are those fireworks, darlin’?”
She smiled, laughed even as she ran her hands over his shoulders. “Bright and shiny,” she said. “Wanna see ’em?”
Dean crawled up her body and dropped an elbow on each side of her head. He kissed the tip of her nose. “Oh, yeah.”
She wrapped one limber leg over his hips and shoved on his chest. “Where did your pants go, cowboy? I don’t remember taking them off.” He wore only boxer briefs that were losing the battle of containing his excitement.
“Too binding,” he said.
“These need to go, too.” His boxers met the floor and she ran her hands up his legs until she cupped him fully. She leaned forward to taste and Dean stopped her. “One lick and I’m toast. Condom, Katie, back pocket of my pants.”
“Don’t you want—”
“Oh, yeah…I want. But first I need you.”
She believed him. His need for her.
Katie scrambled off the bed and tossed his pants to him.
He tore open his wallet, found the condom, and covered himself in seconds.
“C’mere,” he beckoned.
Their lips met with wet kisses filled with promises. His arms were everywhere, as if he’d forgotten what she felt like and was starved to rediscover her.
Dean lifted her easily, guiding her over his impressive length, until she felt him slowly push deep inside. Even with her on top of him, he held the control. And she liked giving it to him here, when they were intimate. Not once had he taken that power to a scary place, and because of that, her trust in him never faltered.
“So tight,” he hissed between his lips. “Sweet Jesus, Katie, you’re killing me.”
He opened her slowly and completely, like only a big man could, until they were both holding their breaths and her hips were flush with his. She smiled into his neck and savored the feel of him. She’d missed him, terribly. Never did she think she would be in his arms again when she’d told him good-bye the first time.
She swiped away the awful memory and thought only of now. Of this moment in his arms. Her hips rolled onto his once…twice. Dean’s fingers squeezed her waist and within a heartbeat she was under him. Skin to skin they found a frantic pace that suited them both. The confession of wanting him, needing him, and missing him sat on the tip of her tongue as her body responded to his.
She bit her lip, refusing to say anything but meaningless moans that encouraged every move he made. Those confessions would place her heart exactly where her body was now, wrapped around Dean.
He tilted her hips and plunged even deeper. “Now you’re killing me,” she told him.
Dean slowed down. “Too much?”
“God, no. Please.”
He locked eyes with her and slid in her with delicious friction, keeping the pace until neither of them could hold their eyes open. One second she was warming up to her orgasm and then it exploded over her, long shuddering spasms that wrung her out.
“Oh, Katie,” Dean muttered as he reached his release. The expression of bliss on his face was one she’d put there and that felt damn good.
He collapsed on top of her with a sigh. “Oh, baby. I missed you.”
She stilled. His words hung there, waiting for a response. “We were always good in bed.”
Dean shifted his weight and pulled her with him onto their sides. “Good is such a paltry word. Magnificent, spectacular.”
She liked that. The emotions mixed up with missing him drifted away as they enjoyed a little pillow talk. “No one does it better.” Katie had told him that in their past. She meant it then and even more now.
“Like a Bond film…the music from the movie. Makes me feel bad for the rest.” He stroked the side of her face as they talked.
“Are you going to serenade me, cowboy?”
“I might.”
“Aren’t you supposed to do that before we hit the sheets?” The length of him slid from her body. She regretted the loss.
“Before, during…after. I’ll sing if your ears can handle it.”
Katie snuggled into her pillow and curled one arm under her head. “I’ve stood beside you a time or two in church. You have a nice voice.” A rich baritone she hadn’t expected the first time she’d heard it.
“We just had the most sinfully amazing sex this side of the equator and you had to go and mention church.”
“I never understood how something so good could be considered so bad,” she told him. “If touching heaven is a sin, then sign me up.”