by Zoey Derrick
“Dyson,” she whines and I capture her lips with my own. She opens to me immediately and I pull my hand away from her chin, confident she’s not going anywhere. I slide my tongue along hers, but pull back briefly.
“Say it again,” I tell her softly.
“Dyson,” she moans.
Her desperation builds, my cock twitches in my pants and my mind goes blank the moment I capture her lips again. I pull back to tell her, “I fucking love it when you say my name.”
“Dyson,” she moans, this time more desperate and her hands fist in my shirt on my back, pulling me closer to her. “Please,” she begs.
Shivers rock my entire body. I can’t decide which one is more intense, her saying my name or begging for more. They’re equally intoxicating and her close proximity has me losing my fucking mind. I reach for the sides of her shirt. I ask for permission with my eyes and she gives me a slight nod. I smile and pull her shirt up. She releases me and gives me the access I need to lift it over her head.
I have to take a step back to appreciate the full view. “Fuck,” I groan when I see the red, lace bra she’s wearing.
Hanging on to her shirt with one hand, I hold out my other hand to her. Again, asking for her permission before her hand intertwines with mine and I lead her toward the stairs and my bedroom.
I need her, now, more than anything, more than life and breath. I can’t hold back anymore.
I lead her up the stairs and into my bedroom, kicking the door closed as I turn on her, pressing her against the wall, holding her there with my body. Her breathing is erratic when I look at her. Her eyes are wild with excitement and maybe even a little fear. I’m going to try and do this without scaring the hell out of her. I brush my knuckles gently along her cheek and she leans into my touch. I drop her shirt on the floor and gently take her face been my hands. Her eyes flutter closed as she relaxes into my touch. “All you have to do is tell me to stop, and I will.”
Her eyes open, they’re hooded, her desire evident. Kissing Ireland is something else altogether, each time more amazing than the last; I can only imagine being buried inside of her. “Don’t stop,” she breathes and that’s all the permission I need as I slant my lips over hers. She moans into my mouth, her already jagged breathing skips a few more beats along with my heart when her tongue slides in along my own and I’m fighting everything to not rip off her clothes and slam into her right here.
I pull us away from the wall. She comes willingly with me and I lead her farther into the bedroom until I bump her up against my bed. The contact is enough to pull her, unwillingly, away from my lips. “This is how I should have done this the first time,” I say and reach for the buttons on my shirt.
Her soft hands replace mine and she starts to undress me. I reach for the button on her jeans and flick my wrist, unbuttoning them in a beat and her breathing shows every reaction her face can’t. She tries to concentrate on the buttons on my shirt, but I can feel her fingers trembling against my chest and I move to help her.
I pull the shirt from my pants and unbutton the cuffs. By the time I’m done, so is she and her hands slide up my naked chest to my shoulders as she pushes my shirt off me and it falls to the floor. Her hands are on my biceps and her touch is obliterating any sense of control I had a moment ago. I lean down and find her lips again. She takes mine with as much fervor as I’m giving her and it makes my cock jump.
I pull back slightly and start kissing my way from her lips to her jaw as I wrap my hands around her body, pressing them together. Feeling her nearly naked skin against me sends a thrill through me.
My newfound position gives me the ability to reach behind and unclasp her bra. She shudders as the straps loosen and fall down her arms. I help the bra to fall away completely before I lower myself to kiss her shoulder, then farther down her chest as I make my way to my knees before her.
Her hand slides into my hair, guiding me to one nipple, then the other before she releases me and frees herself from her bra. “Don’t stop,” she moans again and I suck one taut pebble into my mouth. She trembles with desire beneath me. Her hand returns to my hair and she guides me to the other one and I lick, nibble and suck it into my mouth, pulling on it hard before releasing it with an audible pop.
I continue lower, kissing, licking and biting gentle nips down her stomach until I reach the fly of her jeans and I lower the zipper with my teeth. She giggles above me, but it’s an erotic giggle and one I hope to hear again.
With her jeans undone, she hooks her thumbs inside and pushes them down her thighs. I’m met with a pair of matching red panties. I lean in, breathing hotly across her sex and her legs wobble. Then I dart my tongue over her soft, hot center and she moans. “Lie down for me,” I tell her and she complies, pulling herself up on the bed and I pull her jeans from her legs, freeing her.
When they’re gone, I slide my hands up her legs toward her hips to free her of the gorgeous panties she’s wearing. She lifts her hips just enough to give me access. Her panties are stripped away and I’m met with the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen.
There is a small patch of bright red curls just above her slit and the rest is bare. “Fucking gorgeous.” I stand up, desperate for no barriers between us and I slide my pants down, bringing my boxer briefs with them and freeing my cock. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. I give her a salacious smirk and she swallows hard. “Not a pencil,” I remind her of the card and her insult.
She swallows hard again. “No, definitely not.” Her tongue darts out and slides across her lips as she takes in the full package. I move slightly and her gaze moves from my cock to my thigh and she gasps before sitting up. Jesus, she’s gonna kill me.
Chapter 35
Ireland
“Beneath Your Beautiful” - Labirinth
When Dyson’s pants fell away, I instantly regretted the ‘pencil dick’ card I’d sent him. Definitely no pencil there, but I was quickly distracted by something on his leg. His thigh, to be exact. I couldn’t see the entire thing, but I could see black, orange and red striping. The red was a close match to the color of my hair.
I sit up and reach for his thigh, hoping to get him to turn. I look at him and beg sweetly, “Please.” He turns slightly, giving me a better look at what’s on his thigh.
Staring back at me are a pair of emerald green eyes, eyes that look a lot like my own, set in the most beautiful face of a tiger I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I urge him to turn farther. The tiger is perched on a tree branch and the branch is attached to a tree of sorts. The tiger is angled down toward his knee and there is a tail that disappears behind the trunk. I urge him to turn more, and this time he turns all the way around, giving me a full view as he does.
The tiger’s tail trails around his leg and ends near the inside of his knee. “Dyson, that…wow, I don’t even…”
“You like it?”
I search his eyes for an explanation to his hesitation. “No, Dyson, I love it.”
I watch as relief washes over him and he relaxes. I hadn’t noticed him stiffen up until he was sagging with relief. “Thank god,” he breathes.
“Why would you think…” Realization dawns on me in that moment. The tiger, Tigress, my nickname, the emerald green eyes.
“I told you, I never forgot about you. I knew if I couldn’t have you, I needed something to hold close to me.”
Tears well in my eyes at his words. I feel so overwhelmed.
Before I know it, Dyson has his arms around me and he’s pulling me from the bed. We’re both completely naked and I’m completely falling apart. Anger, frustration, confusion, lust, desire, all mix for one hell of a reality cocktail in my head and in my heart. It’s nearly too much to handle and he’s going to watch me completely unravel in his arms.
Embarrassment floods through me and I try to pull away from him, but he holds me tightly against his chest before scooping me up in his arms and sitting down on the bed. I’m back in his lap and without even meaning to, I snuggle into
him. The tears refuse to quit.
Through heavy tears, I try and tell him something but I’m not sure he catches it because he brushes the hair from my face and forces my chin up to look at him. “I’m never going to get this right,” I mumble to him.
He chuckles, “What are you talking about, princess?”
“We get naked and I start crying,” I grumble and fight his fingers to lower my gaze from his, but he’s not having it.
“I should have warned you.”
“About what?” My tears are starting to subside a little and my breathing is less hysterical.
“My tattoo.”
“Oh,” I say before wiping tears from my cheeks. He seems satisfied I’m not going to hide from him anymore so he releases my chin, but moves his hand over to my shoulder where he gently brushes his fingers along my skin, moving my hair from it. “I’m glad you didn’t,” I tell him and it’s true.
“Why is that?”
“Because I think it would have taken away the impact of it.” I smile a little at the words. “I mean it, I really do love it. It’s just…” I shake my head as if I’m a damn Yahtzee cup and I can change the outcome of my thoughts once they’re tossed around a little bit. “You have all this stuff, these things that remind you every day of me. I tried to do everything I could to not be reminded of you and I still thought about you every day. I really was trying to move on and to see that you’ve held on to it, held on to the past, it-” I pull in a deep breath and finish, “It’s overwhelming.” I try and smile but I fail and that makes him smile at me.
He brings his hand up to my face where he taps my nose with his finger. “I don’t mean to overwhelm you, but with the exception of the tattoo, nothing has been deliberate,” he tells me. “When I got asked to pick a code for the door, I picked the first date that came to mind.”
“My birthday?”
He nods. “The rock? That’s been in my pocket every day since you gave it to me. That was the same day I met you, met your brother, and truly found a place where I belonged. It became my good luck charm. I always had it with me, try-outs, games, the night in the barn, the first day at a new school, the first day of college, the day I started my business, all of it. It became a part of me and if I didn’t have it in my pocket, I stressed about where I’d left it.”
“I threw the other one away.” His eyes widen in shock. “I thought that…I thought I was bad luck. I’d given it to a boy who I thought was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life, then I kept it with me, always.”
He chuckles. “I remember seeing it in your pencil box once.”
My eyes snap to his. “Really?”
His chuckles settle a little. “Really.”
“We’d grown close, until you went to a new school and I was left at the old one, without my friends. Though you still hung out at the house, you were different, you’d changed,” I share and pull my eyes away from his. “I’d hear stories from Dusty, though he never actually told them to me. I overheard you guys talking all the time, then you weren’t around as much. It broke my heart.”
I hear his sharp intake of breath as the reality of what I’m telling him washes over him, I can’t stop now. “Then that summer, before I started my freshman year, you changed back. You started to notice me again. You dragged me everywhere, despite Dusty’s objections. I was one of the crowd, you know? Then we got to high school.” My nerves take over as I ramble. I wish I could pace the room, but I’m more afraid of standing up because I’m completely naked. At least this way I can hide most of it. The memories consume me as I share them with him. “You changed again. You acknowledged me, but we weren’t friends. I fought to tell myself it had more to do with high school etiquette. You were a junior; I was a freshman, so I let it go. Then I’d see you with some girl and it would crush me all over again. But then you’d show up at the house like nothing was different between us.” The memory overtakes me. I’m remembering that night at the end of March so long ago. “Then I hadn’t seen you for a few days, you hadn’t been in school or hanging around with Dusty, and he was moody and pissy. No one ever told me what was going on. I denied it for so long, but all the signs were there. I was just too dense to see them for what they were. I was so confused about you. I didn’t know what to do, or what I was doing wrong. Then you were at my door, and I was home alone. We watched that movie together and then…” I don’t need to finish the rest of the story. He knows where it’s going. But the memory of Dyson being inside of me sends a new wave of desire through me. I am desperate to feel that again, to feel that connected to someone. Especially him.
He buries his head in my hair. He takes a few deep breaths to settle himself. I need to finish what I started to say, so I take a deep breath too and find a calm place inside me and hold on to it for added encouragement. “I fell in love with you the day I gave you that rock,” I confess and immediately I want to run away from him. The admission is almost too much for me to handle and the tears come back when his arms wrap tighter around me.
“And now?” he breathes against my neck.
“Now? I’m scared shitless,” I whisper.
From somewhere deep down inside of me, I don’t know where she’s been buried all these years, but the feisty Ireland roars to the surface. She’s tired of being alone, tired of being the shy quiet girl and she takes over my body. I try to stand, but he holds me tight. “Please, don’t run.” His voice is pained.
“I have no intention of running, Dyson,” I tell him, my confidence returning from somewhere, from that little person inside of me who died the day he left me. He reluctantly lets me up and I reposition myself to straddle him. My hot, wet sex brushes along his cock and he jumps. I flick my hips against him and his eyes take on the sexiest look. My mouth falls slack.
I continue to slide my sex up and down his cock. The sensations make my body come alive, and my nerves hyper sensitive. I reach between us, wrapping my fingers around his shaft and I lift myself, pressing the head of his cock against my clit and moving it back and forth. The pleasure rises higher with each passing second.
I’m not that innocent. Well, Dyson Cole Richards is the only man who’s ever been inside of me, but I’m no stranger to orgasms. I’ve given myself enough over the years and I know I’m getting closer than I ever thought I would this fast. The need to have him inside of me is almost unbearable.
I know he feels it too when he slams his lips against mine and his cock finds the entrance to my body where he belongs, where I desperately need him to be and I lower myself onto him. He’s stretching me in ways I’ve never felt before. He strips away his kiss and demands, “Ireland, stop.”
I freeze, my eyes pleading with him. “Why?” I breathe. Rejection tries to take hold.
“I’m not wearing a…”
“I know,” I tell him and claim his lips once again as I slide farther on top of him. I push him back on the bed as I slide farther down his cock. He wraps his arms around me, holding me to him. My hair creates a curtain around us, blocking out the rest of the world as his mouth claims mine. His cock claims me once more, taking me higher with each thrust and flick of my hips.
My orgasm explodes around me and I press down on him, holding him in place, but doing everything I can to grind my way through my orgasm. He pulls his mouth away, his features displaying his desperation to hold back. “I’m...fuck, Ireland.” His eyes meet mine and my insides quiver around him again, clamping and releasing his cock as I slide up and then slam myself back down.
His arms squeeze around me as I feel warmth flood my insides and he cries out my name as he explodes inside of me.
Chapter 36
Ireland
“Lay Me Down” - Sam Smith
Slowly our breathing returns to normal. I’m sprawled on top of him with a light sheen of sweat drying across my skin. He’s still hard inside me and my sex clenches around him. He groans and flips me onto my back. He brushes my hair out of my face, his eyes bore into my soul and I’m insta
ntly fifteen, back in the barn. His eyes darken as he reads my body language, despite my attempts to hide it.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures. His voice is soft, barely above a whisper and his hips push into me to emphasize his words. My eyes roll up into my head as pleasure ignites in my veins again. “I will be here, as long as you want me here.”
Reality comes back into focus when he doesn’t move again. I push the hair out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ear, it doesn’t stay and he smiles. We don’t need to say anything to each other. Everything is right there in our eyes. I’m scared shitless, he knows it because I told him as such. The slight tremble in my body is another telling sign. “It’s my turn.” He thrusts into me again and the fireworks ignite. My orgasm builds from a slow simmer to a boil as he pulls out to the tip and he slips back in. He doesn’t stop and my sex clenches around his, milking him. The skin to skin contact is heady and while I have little to compare it to, I don’t know that I could ever stand a barrier between us. “Is this okay?” he asks, unsure of himself.
“Perfect.” I wink, giving him a little playfulness while still trying to hide the nerves threatening to consume me.
His pace increases and he adjusts himself. He uses his thighs to raise me up higher, pushes in deeper and that feeling of closeness consumes me. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him to me, and he lowers his head to suck a nipple into his mouth and I moan. My head lulls back, my eyes roll up, my body comes alive as he pushes deeper before pulling back out and sliding back in.
“Dyson,” I mewl.
“Tell me, princess.”
“Faster,” I groan and he doesn’t hesitate to increase his pace. My body is desperate for him. My pussy tightens around him, trying to hold tight and never let go.
His thrusts are matched with bursts of grunts and labored breathing, his eyes never leave mine. He releases my nipple and kisses up my body until he finds my lips and he claims them. I whimper and wrap my legs around his waist, using my heels to encourage him to go faster. He smiles against my lips, but reclaims them quickly. Breathing has become impossible for us both.