Dean. My name's Dean.
Breathe.
I need to steady myself. Make sure that this is what I want. I tried grabbing on to something, focusing my eyes on something other than the stars that seem to be dancing in front of me.
I smell leather and sweat, mouthwash, beer and gum. I smell lies and sin, want and need. I feel him controlling himself but wanting to let go. I smell salt and gunpowder and I never smelt anything so manly and dangerous.
He throws me against the wall and the back of my head slams the bricks. I try to fight back but I find my head hitting the same spot now, a pair of full lips are attacking my own. His tongue violates my mouth and I don't hack down, struggling to fight for dominance.
No words come out. No names – at least none that are real. No polite requests, no usual pick up lines. This was just about want, need and lust – pure lust.
He picks me up by my thighs and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist. He slams me against the wall again and I know I'd need a lot of painkillers tomorrow. I already know I'll have a hand shaped bruise on my ass.
He wraps one arm around my waist to support me while he uses his free hand to reach down between my legs. I love my sister for forcing me to wear a skirt tonight. He pushes the small sliver of fabric aside with his calloused finger and a smile graces his face when he feels the hot, wet and slick core. He looks at me with a glint in his eyes and rips the offending garment off my body.
"I'm keeping this." He says and puts my Victoria's Secret in his pocket. He then pulls out a plastic wrapper from his jacket and commands me to open it while he roughly opens his own pants buttons. (God, I love 501 jeans) He sheaths his shaft with the rubber and without any warning, he roughly enters me and I let out a gasp.
He grunts, I moan. He bites and nips. I scratch his neck and pull his hair. He then holds my face a little roughly and forces me to look at him.
"Open your eyes." He growls – his voice, low and deadly. It takes every ounce of my strength and will to do so. "You can't come until I tell you so, understand?" There's a dangerous gleam in his eyes and his jaw is hard set. I nod my head. This man will be the death of me – the sweetest death.
We built a steady rhythm, albeit a little rough and needy. In what felt like forever, he finally put his head at the crook of my neck and softly whispered "Come. Come for me baby. Come with me" So, I did.
My entire body shook and quaked, my legs wrapped tighter and I squeezed him until I felt him come down from his high. I felt him relax and ease his hand around my thigh. He let me down slowly and gently. That was about the only gentle act he has done to me. We tried to catch up on our breathing while I smoothed my hair and skirt down.
I looked and saw him fixing up as well. I smiled and touched his face. "That was amazing and just what I needed. Thanks and see you around, Danny."
As I made my way back to the bar, I thought I heard him say "Dean. My name is Dean."