Page 5 of Dark Truth

I looked into the gray of his eyes and felt something squeeze, hot and tight, in my chest. “You’ve got a face worth staring at.”

It was a pathetic response, but I couldn’t tell him what I really wanted to say, could I? Dylan was many things, but he wasn’t the ‘I love you’ kind of man. It might even make him run away, kick me out of the new penthouse, and never speak to me again. I pushed away the emotion and concentrated on the moment instead.

He was real, between my thighs and over me, and that was all I wanted. All I’d wanted for a long time now. I didn’t want to spoil the moment or our relationship and admit to having feelings for him that he might not return. He cared about me, I knew that by now, but I doubted he’d ever really admit that he loved me. I could live with that.

“Show me how much you like looking at me, Dylan,” I purred the words in a way I knew he couldn’t resist. It was a voice I’d learned drove him, the tone pitched just right to distract him from whatever he was doing. It was a signal to him, and it worked now, the same as it always did.

There were no more words, just the sensation of being sweetly invaded as Dylan drove into me in one sure, swift thrust that left us both gasping. I stared up at him, my body tangled in his, and tried to give him my love with my eyes. When he slid along a particularly sweet spot, my eyes closed.

I clutched his strong body as he rocked into me with strong thrusts timed expertly. He knew exactly what I needed and how I needed it. Dylan knew exactly where to touch me, which buttons to push, as his hands softly explored my body. I was aware of the delicate way he touched my shoulder, the way he rocked my hips up to meet his, and learned all over again what it felt like to be aware of every part of my body.

Dylan’s touch drove me into a place only he could take me to. I might not have had very much experience with men, but I had plenty of experience with a real man. It was all I needed to know, all I ever wanted to know.

He sighed with languid enjoyment as he drove into me again, deeper, a little harder. “You fit around me like a glove, Emily. A glove I never want to take off.”

“I’m made for you, Dylan, nobody else,” I assured him, my nails clutched into his back.

I felt them drag across his skin as he began a deeper pace that was a little faster. It stole my breath away as the slick slide of him inside of me touched places that ached for his stimulation. I moved with him, my hips in tune with his, a dance that we’d perfected and enhanced.

He moved and arched my back so that my nipples were within easy reach, and sucked hard at the left one.

“Dylan…” I called his name, but he didn’t answer; he only sucked harder. The sensation of his lips as they tugged at my nipples reminded me of those little sucking torture devices he sometimes placed on me. They drove me up the wall, but they felt so fucking good. I loved every second of it when he put them on me, and I longed for them now.

His lips were just as stimulating, though, and I thrust my breasts higher so that he’d have easy access to the nipple. My hips took over the pace, and I thrust up into him, my body not my own now. It was its own being, and all it wanted was pleasure. “Make me come, Dylan, please.”

Instead of answering, he used a free hand to guide my fingers down to the wet folds of my pussy. I found the spot I needed to have touched the most and ran a finger over it. Just a tease at first, but when I knew I was in the right spot, I applied pressure. In well-timed circles, I matched the pace of my hips, and within minutes I felt the first pulse rock through me.

“That’s it, Dylan. Harder. Please, harder.” I panted as I demanded my pleasure, and when he bit down lightly on the tight bud of my nipple, that gentle rock became a crushing wave. My back arched impossibly tighter, and my throat closed around a scream. It felt as if I would blow apart, as if my entire body would just shut down, as if I had indeed died a little death, but it felt so good. I didn’t want it to stop, as waves pulsed through me, all the way up to my brain and down again as my walls clutched around him.

I knew the strong orgasm would make my walls milk Dylan, and I wasn’t surprised when I heard him groan. For a moment he went still, and I felt the small pulse all over again. Only this time, it was Dylan’s cock that had pulsed inside of me, but it didn’t stop the full onslaught of waves that crashed through me all over again.

“Emily…” he choked out as he slammed himself inside of me, hard and deep. I clutched him to me, my fingers on his ass, my nails digging into his skin. His ass was so round and perfect, my fingers often found their way there when he was naked. It was instinctual to touch him there, to urge him to curve deeper into me as he came apart.

We clung together after, our bodies exhausted for now. He rolled away with a soft groan but pulled me to him. I rolled to throw a leg over his hip and put my head on his shoulder.

“Why do you feel so good, Emily?” His eyes were closed, but his right hand was on my head, holding me there gently. “I can’t get you out of my system, no matter how many times I fuck you. It just makes me want you more.”

“I don’t know,” I answered softly, unsure of what to say. “I only know you, Dylan, and I don’t want to know anyone else.”

“That’s good, because I can tell you right now—I’d kill any other man that tried to touch you.” I heard the growl in his voice and knew he meant it.

“Even if we were at Elmo’s?” It was a gamble to ask, but I’d hinted at it before.

“That would be,” he paused, and put his right arm over his eyes. “Fuck, that makes me hard all over again, but I don’t know if I could do it. Watch another man whip you, touch you…”

“Or fuck me?” I finished the sentence. It was something I’d hinted at before, but like him, it wasn’t something I was positive I wanted.

“Sometimes it’s good to fantasize. Not so good when it happens.” He moved his arm to look up at me, his face clear of most emotions. All I could see was concern there.

“I know, and that’s my fear. It’s always been my fear when I try to make fantasies reality.”

“It worked out alright with me,” Dylan countered, just to play Devil’s advocate.

“True, but as you just said, fantasy isn’t always what you get with reality.”

“Not always, no.” He put his arm down and placed it over my hip. “We can try it, if you’re that curious. I would never stop you from trying new things. I can’t promise I won’t lose my shit if another man touches you, but I can try. I owe you that.”

“Why do you owe me that?” I asked, and pulled away to look at him.