In Your Dreams (Falling #4)(80)

“I could watch you take me all night, Murphy. I love the way you look with me inside, so hot, so wet,” I say, my hips pushing forward, hers circling with my motion.

“Harder,” she says, the word coming out broken and needy. “Please, Casey. Fuck me harder,” she says, and I can’t believe her dirty mouth—the same lips that kiss so sweet and sing so strong. I lean forward and claim her lips as mine, pushing into her repeatedly, holding on until I feel her release, forbidding my own pleasure until I know she’s completely spent.

I feel her clench and her arms and legs wrap around me tightly, her breath held and her head tilted back as far as her neck will allow. I reach with one hand between us, my thumb pressing in firm circles just above where I am entering her, everything slick and warm with our sex, and then suddenly she cries out and her insides clench around me in waves.

“Oh god, Casey. Yes!” she screams, and I press my mouth into the side of her neck and push again and again, draining her of every single moan, cry and whimper until I’m no longer able to hold on and I come hard, my body collapsing into her, my nerves losing control and my muscles giving way to the purest pleasure I’ve ever felt.

We lay silent for several minutes, our bodies still connected as I hold her to me and dust away long, purple curls now straightened and damp from sex. And when my hands can no longer wait, I trail them lower against her smooth belly, and lower between her legs, pressing against what I want again, what I don’t think I can wait for, and to my surprise, her hand covers mine and presses even harder, and she whispers “Again. Fuck me again.”





Chapter 15





Murphy


My body is sore and my cheeks are red. The only thing keeping me grounded is the warm hand running up and down my back and the pair of dark, round eyes staring back into me. I never slept. I only pretended to sleep. When Casey woke an hour ago, I shut my eyes quickly and faked it for longer, because the woman I was in his room when the sun went down is not the one with stage fright and reservations in the light.

I couldn’t not look, though, after a while. This sweetness—it’s real. He hasn’t said a word, other than “good morning.” When I bashfully tucked my face into his pillow, he tugged on my chin, lifting me out so he could kiss my nose.

Shame is nonexistent in Casey’s world. I must remember that, because the pleasure was more than anything I’d ever had.

“It’s Saturday,” he says, finally. I think he’s smirking, though it’s hard to tell with both of our cheeks pressed against his sheets.

“It is,” I agree, blushing at the very fresh memories of last night.

“I have to check in at my parents’ house, but other than that, my day is completely free. I’m all yours,” he says, his lips still askew as if he’s up to something.

“Okay,” I say, sucking in my bottom lip and looking to the bed and ceiling in an attempt to avoid his stare.

“Is there…maybe…something you have to do? Like…some plans you have or…I don’t know,” he says, coyly.

I blush hard at his suggestion.

“Again? Already?” I ask.

He holds my stare, but his smile grows as he chuckles.

“I mean, well…sure. I’m definitely up for more of that, but I meant the birthday party your brother keeps texting you about, asking where you’ve been and what kind of cake you want your mom to make,” he laughs, and my breath rushes away.

“Oh, shit!” I yell, covering my mouth. “I completely forgot!”

“You forgot your own birthday?” he laughs, slipping my phone from behind his back. I take it quickly and begin typing a message to my mom, requesting chocolate, and then apologizing for being out late. I delete that last part though because I’m not late—I never came home. But I’m an adult, and this should be normal. I need my own place. And oh my god my brother is wondering where I am. I’m typing feverishly, deleting like mad because my thumbs are massive and I’m the queen of typos, and I just wrote smurf for no reason.

“Murphy,” Casey whispers. I keep typing, and he says my name again, a little louder with a laugh. His hands cover mine and he makes me put down the phone.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, his head lifted slightly and his eyes soft. Oh man, he’s going to think I’m weird when I explain this.

“Actually,” I say, my face bunching with humiliation because I’m a twenty-two-year-old still obsessed with birthday parties. “It’s not really my birthday. It’s my half birthday.”

“Your…half birthday,” he repeats.

I grab my phone and continue to text my mom, making sure I get the chocolate order in at the very least.

“Yes,” I say, now sitting, sheets wrapped around my waist and one of his old T-shirts over my body.

He wraps his hands around mine to force me to pause again, but I shake him loose.

“Just let me send this last one, and I’ll explain,” I say, my tongue out on the side while I type quickly with my movie request, and a warning that I might be late, and I may bring Casey with me. I hit SEND rapidly, but instantly want to take the message back when I realize that the sequence of my texts pretty much lets them know I spent the night here with him, but then I just give in and drop the phone to my lap because f*ck it, I’m an adult. My father will want to punch Casey, but he won’t really do it—he’ll just look at him with those threatening eyes that say “I’m not so old I can’t whoop your ass.”