Oh, God…”
They collapse together. “That’s it, baby,” he tells her. He pushes a stray honey blonde curl behind her ear with the other and trails his fingers down the line of her jaw. Sliding over her, a fine mist of sweat coating them both as they fight to hold back, he peels the blindfold away. Shifting her beneath him, he makes her scream his name as he strokes mercilessly into her. He relishes seeing her take control and letting her set the pace. He steadies her hips, wrapping her legs around his waist and driving deeper, causing them both to moan. He doesn’t release her hands. The tease of rough fingers over a firm breast and its stiff nipple. He doesn’t do sleepovers or breakfast. He smirks, more than satisfied and wondering how long he can keep Jo from getting out of bed. “Dean…” she keens. The change in angle – the added stimulation to the bundle of nerves nestled between her thighs – makes her shiver.
