Dream Chaser (Dream Team, #2)(75)

“You’re beautiful when you’re fucking,” I whispered.

His expression grew greedier, dark…hot, and he fucked me harder.

He watched my tits bounce, and I held on, he watched his cock plunge between my legs, and by some miracle, I held on.

Then his eyes came to mine.

“Come, baby,” he said gently.

I came instantly, pressing back on my hands, driving into his thrusts, crying out softly, an explosion of pure, blissful goodness I let loose, hiding nothing, giving it all to my lover, because it was his due.

And he’d definitely earned it.

Even with how huge that was, I had to keep my arms tensed to hold me steady so he didn’t bang me into the headboard when my orgasm took its time drifting from me.

When I focused on his face, he was super focused on mine, it was super-hot how focused he was on me, and he whispered, “My sweet little fuck.”

Oh hell to the yeah.

He was a dirty-talking Dom.

Suddenly, he swung my legs around his ass, lowered his still thrusting body to mine, put one hand in the bed, the other he drove up under the hair at the back of my head. He gripped it, put his opened mouth to mine, and pounded his orgasm into me as he groaned down my throat.

Oh fuck yes to the hell yeah.

When his climax started leaving him, he began kissing me, gliding in and out, before he seated himself inside and shoved his face in my neck.

“You can put your arms around me now, Ryn,” he said there, then touched his tongue to my skin.

I shivered under him and didn’t delay in wrapping him tight.

And I liked how he communicated our mini-scene was done.

I was again Ryn.

Communication was important between all partners, but for those like us, it was integral to the experience, verbally, physically. Most importantly, it was about him reading what he needed to read from me. And most importantly for me, it was about me trusting he could read it, and him communicating where we were at.

Pre-scene, definitely during scene, and also post-scene.

I loved this indication he had that part down for us.

His mouth came to my ear and there he said quietly, “Pussy’s so sweet, baby, prepare. I’m gonna be eating you a lot.”

I shivered again.

“Okay, Boone.”

He nipped my earlobe.

A reward.

And I shivered yet again.

He ran his mouth around the front of my throat, up my jaw, to my lips, but he didn’t kiss me.

He looked into my eyes, I looked into his, liking the sated contentment I saw there, as he said against my lips, “Love the way you take a solid fucking.”

Yeah.

A dirty-talker.

How did I get so lucky?

“I aim to please,” I mumbled.

I watched his eyes smile as I felt the same against my lips.

Then he said, “You’re gonna be takin’ that a lot too, sweetheart.”

“No complaints here.”

He chuckled.

Then he kissed me.

This wasn’t hard.

But it was wet and deep.

And sweet.

He ended it and pulled out, dipped to kiss my collarbone and then lifted his head over mine again and said, “Clean you up, then breakfast.”

I couldn’t help it.

I shivered again.

Most Doms, at least the good ones, were caretakers.

They looked after their toys.

And that was the only kind I liked.

Good to know Boone was that.

And he took care of me, exiting the bed, adjusting his shorts, lifting me off the bed and putting me to my feet (doing it sliding me along his tall, hard body, a nice touch).

He then took my hand and guided me to the bathroom.

He cleaned me.

He kissed me.

And then he handed me my toothbrush, loaded with paste.

I didn’t know if that last was a Dom thing, or a Boone thing.

But I was thinking it might be one and the same.

And I liked it all.

“Thanks, Boone,” I said.

He touched his lips to mine.

Then he turned on the faucet, bent over it and splashed water on his face.

And we were back.

And I was thinking we were that but stronger.

We hadn’t fucked it up.

We’d worked it out.

And now we were together again, in my bathroom.

Thank God.





Chapter Fifteen





A Knight’s Vow





Ryn


I set the plate of food I’d just prepared in front of Boone.

He looked at it.

He looked at me.

And at the expression on his face, I burst out laughing.

When I was finished, I told him, “That’s actually pretty good. Usually, I burn the hash browns.”

He indicated the plate with his long-fingered (thank you, God), strong-fingered (seriously, thank you, God) hand and asked, “Those aren’t burned?”

“They’re crispy.”

Boone grinned at me, but did it shaking his head, before he picked up his plate and fork.

He didn’t tuck in right away.

He said, “How about I take breakfast duty?”

At his words, I experienced an out-of-bed shiver.

I did because this was it.