by Livia Grant
For all the time they'd spent together, Dylan hadn't crossed the line. He'd never been anything but the perfect gentleman. In the beginning, she had treasured him all the more for it, yet she'd begun to worry that she'd imagined the sexual attraction between them.
He was just being a gentleman helping you. You need to stop lusting after him before you make a fool of yourself.
Even she was surprised that she could feel physically attracted to someone so soon after being sexually assaulted. She'd had plenty of quiet time to think about it, and had come to the conclusion that what Jake had done to her had much less to do with sex, and more to do with violence. Dominance. Humiliation.
The feelings she had towards Dylan as she snuggled closer into the cocoon of his arms had nothing to do with any of those descriptors. In fact, he represented the opposite. Safety. Respect. And, dare she hope, love?
"Penny for your thoughts?"
She'd missed him waking up, and spoke without her normal filter. "I was just thinking about how lucky I am that you came into my life. Who knows where I'd be right now if it weren't for you?"
Dylan tried to make light of his part in keeping her safe. "Yeah, well, Lukus and Derek would have protected you with or without me."
"That's bullshit and you know it. The only reason they even knew about me was through you. I'd have just blended into the rest of Jake's hell if you hadn't protected me."
She was glad he didn't disagree. They lay silent, gently stroking each other wherever their fingers connected with skin.
As the minutes passed, Hannah grew bolder, moving her touch lower with each swathe across his hard chest, getting closer to the sexy trail of masculine hair that started under his bellybutton and pointed the way lower, disappearing into his boxer briefs.
"Hannah."
"Dylan."
"What are you doing, honey?"
She loved the terms of endearment he used with her, although they confused her. If he had to ask what she was doing, she was obviously doing it wrong.
She yanked her hand back, feeling foolish at her failed attempt at seduction. He wasn't interested in her that way. He couldn't be. She'd practically thrown herself at him the night before, and he'd maintained their chastity.
She had just started to roll away from him to try to escape to the bathroom to hide her embarrassment when he rolled her onto her back in the middle of the bed. The weight of his body blanketed her, making her feel warm and protected. He pushed his upper body up, resting on his elbows near her shoulders.
His face was just inches away. She recognized the heat in his dark grey eyes at the exact moment she felt the length of his hard cock pressing into her body. Her sex physically clenched with anticipation as she realized he'd been reading her intentions right all along.
"Now, young lady, you are making it impossible for me to be the gentleman I'm trying to be during your recovery. What exactly is it you're trying to do to me?"
The grin on his face was playful, and this time it was her heart that fluttered. She played back. "I don't know what you mean."
Dylan laughed. It was the rich, genuine laugh of a man who was having fun. It filled her with a hope for something she hadn't even known was possible. The hope for love. For the kind of closeness she had seen and coveted in others, like Derek and Rachel.
He gently swished the few stray strands of hair from her face, growing suddenly serious. The playful grin was gone. In its place was an intensity she'd grown accustomed to from Dylan.
"I wanted to wait longer until you were fully recovered, but I don't think I'm strong enough to wait anymore," he said.
His words were cryptic. "Wait for what?" she prompted.
"To do this." His lips descended on hers in a crush. As gentle as he'd been with her before, this kiss was the opposite. Hard. Demanding. Possessive.
Dylan's tongue commanded entry, pressing into her mouth just as his erection ground against her through his thin underwear. He'd started rocking his body forward and back, emulating what she was sure he wanted to do once they lost their clothes. The friction of their bodies rubbing together mixed with the naughty kiss they shared, filling the space with the aroma of sexual need.
Sheer bliss. That was how it felt as she turned her body over to the man above her. She wanted to protest when he broke the kiss, but realized it was only so he could pull the pajama top she had been wearing over her head, throwing it over his shoulder haphazardly.
Instead of returning his mouth to her own, Dylan lunged forward to take her nipple between his lips. Hannah arched her back as waves of desire poured through her body. He'd moved to his knees, straddling her hips, his shaft jutting out against her tummy as his mouth claimed one nipple and his calloused hand claimed the other. The nip of his fingers lightly pinching her right tit shot a wave of unadulterated need through her clit. She wanted him. Badly.
"Oh God, Dylan, that feels so good. Don't stop."
And he didn't. He used his talents to bring her to the brink of coming several times, only to back off. Hannah got more frustrated with each passing moment. She felt like she was being driven towards something just out of reach.
"Stop teasing me. I want you." Oh God, she'd been turned into a needy slut. She hoped he wouldn't think badly of her.
Her doubts disappeared quickly. "Christ, I need to be inside you, baby."
"Yes! Please!" Her hands had moved to the waistband of his briefs, leveraging to pull them down to free the glorious cock she'd felt pressing against her.
The air of the room chilled her when he rolled off her long enough to divest himself of his underwear. He moved back on his knees, this time between her creamy thighs, which were already spread wide for him. His grey eyes devoured her pussy and his fingers reached out to glide through her wet folds, ending at the bundle of nerves of her clit.
Hannah bucked her ass off the bed as his fingers brushed her sensitive nub. He took advantage of her excitement by shoving two thick fingers deep into her pussy, curling them expertly until the digits made contact with her G-spot. His thumb clamped down on her clit, providing friction exactly where she needed it the most. An orgasm was on her in a heartbeat.
Dylan wasn't happy stopping there. He continued to stroke his fingers through her folds, in and out, playing her body expertly until she screamed out her next release.
"That's it, baby. Come for me again."
Never in her life would Hannah have thought she'd be unhappy with two orgasms delivered by an attentive lover. But in that moment, she wanted him to fill her. His fingers weren't enough. She still felt empty, and only his manhood could complete her.
She watched as he used his left hand to stroke his growing erection. Pre-cum glistened at the tip and she longed to lick it off, but he instead moved the hard length lower, until that wet tip merged with her own slick folds. Dylan playfully slid his cock up and down her pussy, careful to brush her sensitive clit often, driving her sexual need higher.
She tried to lift her hips to take him inside her, but he was too heavy. Why was he slowing down when all she wanted was to go faster? She looked up into his grey eyes and saw raw desire staring back at her. He reached for her hands, entwining his fingers with hers, pulling her hands above her head, and laying her out vulnerably before him.
He held her there for so long she worried he'd changed his mind. Hannah clenched her empty pussy, wanting to take him inside her. What was he waiting for?
"Dylan?"
"You're sure? I don't want to—"
"Take me. Please," she pleaded.
He squeezed her hands in his and lunged forward, filling her in one, virile thrust. She expected it… even wanted it, yet he touched so deep it took her breath away. He blurred before her as tears filled her eyes.
Ever so slowly, he retreated, pulling his hard shaft from her body, leaving her bereft. She held her breath, waiting several long seconds before he drove his hardness into her again, followed again by another slow extraction. The contrasting rhythm of f
ast and slow went on for long minutes, setting them both on fire in the best kind of slow burn. With each stroke, he claimed her a little more. Not only physically, but emotionally. Dylan played her body like a maestro, taking her higher and higher until she felt like she could fly.
"Oh God, it's never been like this. What are you doing to me?"
His grin was back. "Making you mine. Are you ready?"
Hannah couldn't imagine more. He was already perfect. "For what?"
"This." She saw the mischief in his eyes just before he started fucking her hard and fast, driving in and out until the sounds of their naked bodies slapping together filled the room.
Her orgasm hit her fast, pushing her into bliss. His continued deep thrusts extended her pleasure until she didn't know where one peak ended and the next began. Sex had never felt like this. Ever.
"Open up, baby. I want to see your eyes as I come," he said.
The sight of Dylan Parker tipping into his own ecstasy was orgasmic. He was gorgeous and, in that moment, he was all hers. She pushed down a feeling of panic at the thought of the future, refusing to give up her joy.
Only after they had both come down did Dylan roll off her, keeping her close in his arms. There was no place she'd rather have been in that moment as they both caught their breath.
Dylan spoke first. "Holy shit."
Hannah giggled. "You can say that again."
"Holy shit."
She could feel his warm cum spilling out onto her thigh and knew they'd be making a mess of the sheets. Her fingers stroked his taut nipple as she teased him. "So, how long until you can go again?"
"I see how this is gonna go. You're trying to kill me."
"Not at all. I'm just trying to help you get a workout in."
Hannah
Several hours, multiple orgasms, and one long shower later, Hannah and Dylan emerged from their bedroom. Now that the danger was over, Derek and Rachel had returned to their own home. The couple were just in time to join Rosa, Connor, Lukus and Tiffany on an outing to Dylan's brother's house for Sunday brunch. Hannah was freakishly nervous. She'd only found out thirty minutes before that Dylan's parents would be there, too.
Tiffany greeted them first. "Hey, it's good to see that the outfit I bought for you fits."
Tiffany had graciously spent several hours the day before shopping for clothes and staples that Hannah needed, since she had nothing with her. She'd felt guilty about it until Tiffany had informed her that she'd been held hostage in the loft for the whole week before, and had been going stir crazy.
Feeling grateful, she reassured Tiff, "Are you kidding me? You have great taste, and the clothes all fit great. I can't thank you enough. Just let me know how much I owe you."
Hannah didn't miss the quick glance that passed between Tiffany and Dylan. "Oh, don't worry about it. It's already taken care of," Tiff said.
Hannah shook her head when Dylan grinned at her.
Connor had a meltdown when it was time to leave. It seemed as though Lukus's loft was a kid's heaven; with a gym full of balls, a movie theater with popcorn, and all kinds of video games. Tiffany had luckily thought to pick up some age-appropriate movies and games the day before.
Mama Rosa stepped in. "I'm going to stay here, anyway. Why don't you leave Connor with me? It's too hard to get around with my wheelchair. You all go have fun."
Hannah was uneasy. She'd basically slept one whole day away already, and didn't want to be away from Connor again. Dylan stepped up behind her, whispering in her ear. "Don't feel guilty."
"How did you know?"
"Lucky guess. Come on, let's go."
Hannah and Dylan squished themselves into the small back seat of Lukus's BMW. Memories of the harrowing drive from the airport to the loft just days before returned. This time, Lukus managed to drive the speed limit—mostly. And Dylan was determined to distract Hannah by inching his wandering hand up her inner thigh until she had to swat him away, afraid they'd be caught by the occupants of the front seat.
Ten minutes later they pulled up in front of a modest two-story home in a quiet neighborhood. Having met Derek, Hannah had expected the hulking man to live in the city. In fact, he'd surprised her in many ways. She'd watched with fascination as he'd cared for his wife the night Jake was killed. She had to have been in shock at the time because it seemed like he had been treating her more like a child than as an adult.
That thought was still fresh when they arrived at the front door only to have it swing open and be greeted by a child-like Rachel. She was dressed in an adorable pair of bibbed jean shorts. Her hair was pulled up in high pigtails with pink ribbons.
"Yippee! You're all here! Come on in. We can start the party," she welcomed.
Rachel took the time to hug each of them as they entered before ushering them through the small dining room into the large kitchen, which was full of people. Hannah hung back, feeling like a fifth wheel as a woman who had to be Dylan and Derek's mother rushed to hug her son, lecturing him on how much weight he'd lost and how worried she'd been about him. Her balding husband rolled his eyes behind her good-naturedly.
"Mom, Dad, I want to introduce you to someone important." Dylan had extracted himself from his mother's hug long enough to return to Hannah's side. "I want you to meet Hannah Martine. Hannah, these are my parents, David and Diana."
Hannah reached out to shake Diana's hand, only to be pulled into a great big bear hug. "It's so nice to meet you, Hannah. Derek told us how much danger you were in out in California. I'm so happy you're okay."
Dylan's mom released her just enough to pull back, apparently so she could inspect the woman who'd arrived with her youngest son. Hannah felt like she was under a microscope, and in that moment, she realized just how little she and Dylan really knew about each other. She panicked that she'd gotten ahead of herself in hoping for a future with the man who stepped up to wrap his arm around her waist.
She stumbled through her answer. "I'm fine, thanks to your sons. They saved me."
Pride filled Mrs. Parker's eyes. "Of course they did. They're such good boys."
"Ma. We're not boys." Derek had returned, carrying what looked like bags of Chinese carryout.
The portly woman glanced at her oldest son with love. "I keep telling you; you'll always be boys to me. Maybe you'll understand better after Rachel has the baby."
Rachel's jovial smile dimmed. The soon-to-be-mother turned somber. Hannah watched her closely as Rachel self-consciously stroked her belly, where her unborn child was growing inside her. Hannah recognized the look on her face as the one she'd seen on Holly's while she'd been pregnant with Connor. It was the look of uncertainty of her readiness to be a mother.
Derek crossed to his wife, picking her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. She hugged him around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him like a monkey. It reminded Hannah of the way she carried Connor.
When no one in the room seemed to remark on the grown couple acting more like father and daughter than husband and wife, Hannah let it go.
She spent the next hour sneaking glances their way, watching the dynamics of their marriage with growing interest.
"Excuse me. Can someone point me in the direction of the bathroom?" she asked. More than needing to pee, Hannah needed a few minutes alone to assimilate all she'd learned about Dylan and his family since they had arrived.
"Our guest bath on this floor is being remodeled. I hope you don't mind going up to the bathroom on the second floor. It's the second door on the right."
"Great. Thanks," Hannah said. Dylan rose as if to accompany her, but she laid her hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. I'm sure I'll find it. You stay here with your family."
She wasn't sure why, but he looked concerned—yet he let her go.
Hannah easily found the bathroom, but as she flicked on the light, she was surprised by the child-like décor that greeted her. She knew Rachel was pregnant, but was surprised to find the bathroom already decorated in a
Disney motif.
The shower curtain was pulled back to reveal shelves full of bath toys and bubbles. As she arrived at the toilet, she had to first lift off the portable child's seat. It was the exact brand she had at home for Connor.
As she washed her hands with the Disney soap and dried them on the hand towel, Hannah glanced through the open door into the adjoining bedroom to see a full nursery. She knew it was rude, but she pushed the door open wider to get a better look, and jumped when she saw Dylan standing next to the large baby crib. He was watching her carefully.
"I was wondering if you'd notice Rachel's nursery," he said.
"You mean Rachel's baby's nursery."
He hesitated. "Well, maybe one day, but today it's all Rachel's."
Hannah didn't know how to respond. She glanced around the room, trying to understand what he meant. There was a baby crib, a changing table and a rocking horse; only they were all double the normal size. In the far corner was an adult-sized school desk, and shelves of toys and books.
It was when she got to the last corner of the room that her heart rate spiked. Hanging on the wall were an array of punishment devices, not unlike those she'd seen inside the Strictly Business warehouse.
Her fear must have shown on her face because Dylan was next to her in a heartbeat, taking her into his arm and holding her steady.
"I've got you."
She couldn't take her eyes off the piece of furniture pushed against the wall in the corner. She shuddered as she remembered being threatened with a bench almost exactly like it in Jake Davenport's home. It was a punishment bench. It even had leather straps to restrain its occupant, like Jake's had.
She looked up into his eyes, looking for answers. "What? I mean... why?"
"It's how they choose to live their marriage. Some call it age-play."
"But..." Hannah didn't even know how to form the questions racing through her brain.
"I never used to understand, but I think I'm beginning to, as of recently," Dylan said.