Whisper in my ear tonight
You know how to make me feel perfect,
Put your lips up next to mine
Only you know just how to work it,
'Cause baby you-ou-ou-ou you make me feel alright
Yes you do, baby
(Highway to Hell)
It had been a strange couple of days since John had given his blessing for us to be together. A mixed up tangle of hours where we could smile, and banter without fear of repercussion, yet we were careful not to overstep our boundaries – to not turn a wonderful thing into a negative.
Small moments of tenderness were snatched in the times in between planning. A touch here, a kiss there, a stare that went just a little deeper than it used to. Each night I was happy to crawl into bed with Dean and snuggle up, my head resting in the crook of his neck, my lips pressed against his skin, breathing in his scent.
Last night he'd lazily run his fingers along my arms, turning to kiss my forehead as we just lay in the moment, taking in each other. I found myself consumed with a need to touch him, to run my hand under his t-shirt, splaying it across his stomach, and stroking with a soft, teasing circle, relishing the sound of his breath quickening, his heart racing a little faster under my ear.
With a sigh, he'd slid down to face me, both of us on our sides, his hand on my hip, mine on his, staring into my eyes with a dark desire barely contained beneath the surface. Giving me cheeky grin, he'd slid his knee between my legs, pulling me close and gently grinding against my soft spot, and I had to close my eyes and bite my lip to keep from moaning.
"Two can play that game." He whispered to me, and I fought to keep my breathing steady as we leaned foreheads together, noses resting comfortably against the other. I kissed him softly, my tongue sliding over his lips and in to meet his tongue. His breathing was punctuated in short, soft bursts, but it would have been barely noticeable outside of the immediate vicinity of his mouth.
We lay this way for a long time, not moving, not trusting that we could control ourselves if we were to continue along this path. Dean's eyes flicked past me to the other bed where his father lay sleeping, and with a quiet sigh and an apologetic look he disentangled himself from me, sitting up in the bed and grimacing down at his lap. He pulled the sheets off him and stood up, it was plain to see his arousal in the soft light of the street lamp outside.
He'd leaned down to kiss me, whispering for me to get some sleep. Turning on his heel he stalked off to the bathroom and I heard the sound of the shower being turned on. I flipped on to my back with a sigh, the dull ache of my wound nothing compared to the ache between my legs. I tentatively slid my hand between my legs, the fabric of my panties was soaked with the hot wetness underneath.
I shot another glance at John and considered. He seemed dead to the world. My mind went to Dean and the shower the poor man was having to subject himself to. I thought about what he might be doing in there and my breath caught, I slid a finger through my folds against my clit, arching against my hand in response.
Closing my eyes I allowed myself the pleasure of my touch, gently, rhythmically stroking along my folds, across my clit. I was so caught up in the moment I failed to hear Dean return until the feeling of his weight on the mattress drew me out of my passion. I flushed, embarrassed, and withdrew my hand guiltily, looking away from his gaze.
He had on a simple pair of sweat pants, his chest bare and newly dried from his shower. I found myself losing all self-consciousness as I lost myself in imagining the feel of that chest against mine, close, melded... I took another deep breath and groaned internally. As if reading my mind, Dean reached down and picked up the t-shirt he'd discarded earlier, and pulled it back on, breaking the image from my mind.
"Thought I told you to get some sleep." Dean said quietly. Not whispering, and I saw him looking over at John, contemplating. Just how asleep was the older man?
"I'm not tired." I sighed, rolling on to my side, still facing him. He gave me a sympathetic smile and lay down to face me. With a raised eyebrow he rolled me on to my back, and then indicated for me to turn away from him. I frowned, feeling rejected and sad, but obliged. He surprised me when I felt the warm heat of his body slide in to spoon me, his strong arm reaching around to softly stroke across my stomach.
His breath was hot in my ear as he moved in close, and whispered.
"Maybe I can help with that."
I looked up in surprise, a question on my lips silenced as his lips claimed mine in a hungry kiss. I fought off a moan as his hand slid down my abdominals, stroking in lazy round circles, tantalising me, my skin felt so over sensitive at his touch but I urged him on moaning softly into his kisses, pressing my body back against his.
"Shhhh." He whispered again, a cheeky look in his eyes and he nodded silently at John, who had rolled on to his side with a grunt. I nodded quietly and resolved myself to our unique situation. He kissed me again and then turned my head back to face forward, he rubbed his cheek with a couple of days old stubble against my jawline, drawing a shaky breath out of me before blowing playfully on my shoulder. I shivered.
Suddenly getting serious, he pulled me in close to him. I could feel the hardness of his arousal, renewed, against my back, but he didn't move to pleasure himself. His right arm was underneath me, his hand coming up to cup my right breast through the thin fabric of my top, he was gently teasing my nipple through it as his left hand snaked down to just under my navel, just above where he so wanted to go.
He waited like this for a handful of moments, stilling our breathing, I found myself relaxing into him, my chest rising with his in long, deep breaths. I was beginning to drift off, probably would if not for that ache between my legs. I sighed softly, almost a moan, wriggling against his hand that was laid possessively against me.
Without any further teasing he slid his forefinger between my folds, finding my clit and circling it. I arched involuntarily against him, biting my lip hard to stifle any moan I might make. The need for quiet made it seem almost clandestine and more exciting.
He flicked his finger across my clit and then started to circle it, interchanging with long, full strokes down to my centre barely penetrating me, just circling the outer lips. I ground myself against his hand in a growing urgency. I couldn't moan to tell him to keep going, or what pace to take, so I used my body to let him know.
Dean seemed to understand what I was getting at, and he matched my pace, slipping another finger down to clasp my clit between them both, this shot an incredible pulse through my whole body and I gasped a little bit before biting my lip again. The pace quickening I felt the tingling between my legs, the tightening of my muscles as they started to spasm out of my control. I reached back behind me, grasping his buttock in my hand and pulling him against me, wanting so badly to be as close to him as possible.
He was grinding against me, pulling me to meld against his body as I bucked against him. It felt so good to have his hands on my body, to hold me against the throws of my beginning orgasm. With a final couple of thrusts against his hand I pulled in a few breaths, going so still as every sense between my legs vibed and pulsed, before exploding in a wash of energy. I shook, catching my breath, holding in the groans, spasming against my lover as he held me tight, his own breath coming in short, ragged breaths. He was just as turned on as I was.
I waited for the familiar afterglow to claim me, urging my body back into a state of relaxation. He held me close, kissing my neck and jawline. When I had relaxed he rolled me over, my head going back to the crook of his neck. I idly traced my hand along the blanket to his arousal, intending to relieve him as he had me, but he just took my hand in his with a small shake of his head.
"It's ok." He said. I looked at him, dismayed.
"It's late." He whispered, "and I already... well..." He looked toward the shower. I think I blushed at the thought.
"Not that I couldn't again.." He said suddenly as if to prove something and I almost laughed.
"But I'm ok." He smiled, kissing me again. "Get some sleep." He commanded, pulling me in close, and I closed my eyes, snuggling up with my hand over his heart, the deep rhythmic beat a comfort to me. I threw a leg over his, getting as close as I could without being uncomfortable, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest as sleep claimed us.
Song for this chapter is: You by Nathaniel - probably one of the hottest, love-making songs around right now. I love it!