Indigo Nights (Nights #3)(10)

“No,” he barked. “That’s for me. Your clit, your *, your tits. They’re all for me.” He swiped my hand away, but replaced my fingers with his. I twisted my hips against his hand. He thrust once then twice, and in the distance I felt the beginnings of my orgasm begin to gather force. Again.

My head fell forward as I concentrated on the pleasure seeping into my limbs.

Holy. Crap. I couldn’t stand any more, but I didn’t want it to be over. “I’m so close—”

“So soon?” He picked up his pace, pushing harder and deeper as I spiraled into my first sober orgasm and the most intense feeling I’d ever had. I was floating and shivering, as if my body wasn’t mine anymore. It was his.

Just before I collapsed, he pulled my limp body toward him so I was upright and kneeling on the bed as he pounded into me, as if he hadn’t noticed I’d just had the orgasm to end all orgasms. One arm clasped around my waist, the other clamped at my shoulder, held me in place.

I gasped. The change in angle was like feeling him again for the first time. I reached back to bring his head to my neck, pushing my fingers through his velvety hair.

“You thought I couldn’t make you come?” His voice was gritty. “I’m going to make you count your orgasms, because otherwise you’re gonna lose track.”

He wasn’t going to have to wait much longer for the second. I watched as he pulled and twisted at my nipple, his fingers sending sparks down my legs and out of my toes.

“You’re going to come again, do you hear me? My dick is going to explode this time when I feel those tight walls start to quiver.”

I’d never had a guy talk to me like Dylan was talking to me. It was one of those things that only happened in porn, but it seemed like the most natural thing in Dylan and it made me pant.

I bent my knees slightly, meeting his thrust.

“Oh, yes. You know what you want, don’t you? You want my dick as deep as it will go.”

And there it was again, my orgasm barreling up my spine. My body juddered, supported in Dylan’s arms, as my climax washed through me.

“Oh, yes, I feel you. So tight, Beth. So. Tight.” He jerked sharply as his orgasm followed my own as he’d promised. As he’d said, he didn’t lie.

He didn’t let go as we collapsed, spent, onto the bed.

His chest heaved behind me and my stomach flickered with the remnants of my climax.

We lay in silence as our breathing returned to normal.

“You’re astonishing,” he said as I stroked his forearms. I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only girl that had received that particular compliment.

He kissed my shoulder. It was such a sweet postcoital gesture, as if we were a long-standing couple. I sighed. I’d forgotten what this was like—what had he called it? Human connection—that was it. Or perhaps I’d never experienced it before.

It felt good to be held. It felt freeing to be f*cked.

“You okay?” he asked, tightening his arms around me.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

He kissed my shoulder again and then moved away, heading to the bathroom. I should go back to my own room. Perhaps I’d take one of those plates of cake with me. I sat up, wincing slightly at the way the muscles in my thighs pulled. I was going to be sore tomorrow. I slung my legs over the side of the bed, trying to find energy from somewhere.

“Hey.” Dylan appeared from the bathroom. “A little unsteady?”

I grinned. “Ground-shaking sex will do that to a girl.”

“Ground shaking, huh?”

My cheeks heated. He must know he f*cked like a champion.

“I was going for world changing. It seems I’ve got a way to go.” He headed back to the bed.

I smiled, still not able to take my eyes from his oh-so-perfect body. “Oh, I think you did just fine.”

“Fine?” He frowned but nodded. “Hmmm. ‘Fine’ isn’t a word I’m fond of. You’ll have to give me a minute or two, and I’ll see if I can notch up in your rankings.”

I laughed. “You’re a peach, but I should go.”

“I f*ck ‘fine’ and I’m a ‘peach’? Are you trying to hurt my feelings?” He grinned at me. I think his ego was intact.

I crawled over and kissed him lightly on the lips. “You f*ck like a machine. I had a blast. I gotta go.” I twisted and hopped off the bed.

“You have a body made for f*cking,” he said, catching my fingers as I headed to collect my clothes. I turned to him.

I squeezed his hand and gazed at him. “Right back at you, Mr. 8A.”

“Then stay for a little longer.”

“Dylan, I’m going to hurt tomorrow as it is.”

Casually, he cupped one of my breasts. Immediately my nipples pebbled. “But I promise it’ll hurt so good.”



“Do you want water?” Dylan called from the kitchen.

I reached for the clock on the nightstand. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

It was 4:30AM and we were due to fly out at seven. I’d have to sleep on the plane; there hadn’t been any chance of sleeping so close to Dylan. He was insatiable and I was more than happy going along for the . . . ride.

“What are we at?” He walked back into the bedroom and handed me a glass of water.