The Sweet Addiction Series Collection: Sweet Addiction, Sweet Possession & Sweet Obsession (17 page)

“So I can’t touch myself anymore?”

“No, you can, but only if I am there to help you. You’ll never come as hard as when I do it anyway.” Another lick and I shake. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I agree, knowing he is indisputably right. The orgasms I give myself are bland compared to his. Even this anguish he is currently inflicting on me is better somehow. I moan loudly. “Please, you’re the only guy who’s ever made me come.”

He stops, completely frozen between my legs. I feel his hot breath against my skin, but nothing else.
Shit, was that not something he should know? Awesome. No Reese style orgasms for me tonight. Good job, Dylan. Brilliant.

“Really?” His question hits me after several long seconds of silence.

I nod and cover my face with my hands. “Really. It’s just you.” Oh, those words rip through me in a way I don’t need them to. I’m going to fuck this up, and it’ll be entirely my fault. I open my mouth to say something, anything, when he wraps his lips around my clit and pulls it into his mouth. “Oh, God,” I cry out. Sucking hard, then harder, he growls against me and I go off like a missile.

“YES.” Mid-orgasm, he stands up, and before I can protest the sudden change of direction, he charges straight into me. “Reese.”

“Dylan. Holy fuck, you feel incredible.” His words are barely audible over my cries as the first orgasm rips through me and another comes up close behind. His hands mold to my breasts as I grip the edge of the workbench and hold on for dear life.

“Tell me again. Tell me I’m the only man who’s ever made you come.” He pants as his powerful hips crash against my legs. My eyes are glued to his broad shoulders, which are flexing with each drive.

I release my lip that I’ve been biting and look up at him. “You’re the only man. And you’re so fucking good at it.” My eyes are locked onto his face, his chest, his neck as it pulses with each thrust. His gaze drops to between my legs and I know he’s watching himself enter me over and over, stroking me hard and deep. “So sexy, love. Christ, I’m close.” Pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, his hands dig into my hips and pull me against his pelvis. I fall, giving him another orgasm as I arch my back off the workbench and clench around him. He groans loudly and pulses inside me, giving me his release with my name on his lips.

“Holy shit,” I pant between quick breaths as he splays his body on top of mine.

“Yeah, holy shit,” he says into my neck. I wrap my arms around his back and hold him to me. I’ve missed this. The feel of his chest against mine, the way my skin warms instantly against his. Having him killing me slowly between my legs with his mouth is worth it if it allows me to be this close to him. At the movement of his head, I glance down to see his eyes turn up to mine.

“Handsome,” I say, smiling as if I’d just won the lottery. He winks at me and quickly kisses my breasts before he stands up and glances down at our hot pink covered bodies.

“Love, I think we need a shower.” He arches his brow at me and I quickly sit up, nodding frantically.
Shower with Reese?
Hell fucking yes.

“This way.” I hop down and grab my clothes off the stool as he retrieves his, trailing behind me as I start up the stairs.

“Ah!” After a quick slap on my backside from him, we make it to the top and I turn around to face him, backing farther into my living space. “This is me,” I say, watching him take it in. It doesn’t take him long. There isn’t much to look at. He peers around the partition and wiggles his brows at me when he spots my bed.
No way, buddy. Not happening.

“I like it. It’s tiny though,” he states with a smile as he follows me into my bathroom.

Turning on the shower, I place my clothes on the sink top and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I am flushed and covered in sticky frosting, and I love it. Coming up behind me, he places his clothes next to mine and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me back against him. Rolling my head back to rest on his chest, our eyes meet and he smiles at me. I will never, not ever, get tired of his smile and the little lines it brings out next to his eyes.

“Are you mad at me for what I did?” he asks, causing me to narrow my stare a bit but cracking when his eyes bulge. The bathroom begins to fill with steam and I turn in his arms, lightly pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“No, however, if you would have kept my orgasm from me, you would be purchasing a new ninety thousand dollar vehicle because I would have keyed the shit out of the one you have.”

He chuckles, “Noted. Now, let’s get wet.”

I grin deviously and open my mouth to say something dirty,
of course
, when he stops me with his finger to my lips.

“Pervert.”

I’ve never showered with a man before, and I must say, I’m pretty sure that’s the best way to go. I am completely pampered. He laughs at my fifty thousand shampoo, conditioner, and body wash choices, which are stacked against the wall, and studies several before choosing the ones he says smell like me. He picks the scents I use most often and I beam inside at the idea of him knowing what I smell like. He insists on washing my hair, taking his time and giving me an amazing head massage as he lathers me up. Washing my body, his face hardens as he carefully rubs my shoulders and my back, but gets back to playful when he washes between my legs.
That
he spends a little extra time on. After I rinse clean, he drops his head and freshens up his marks on my breasts as I moan softly against his mouth. He seems just as happy about them being there as I am.

When it’s my turn, I skip the loofah and squeeze the body wash directly onto my hand, wanting to feel every inch of him as I wash him. His muscles relax against my touch and I rub his arms the way I did on Tuesday, seeing his eyes close and his head fall forward. The only muscle that doesn’t relax, and seems to not be able to at all during our entire shower together, is my favorite muscle of his. I stroke him long and hard, the lather building as he holds onto my waist and buries his face in my hair. He kisses me deeply, almost lovingly when he comes in my hand. The feel of his hot liquid against my skin is exhilarating and I want to fuck him again, but don’t. More than that, I want to get out of the shower and nuzzle against his chest, breathing my favorite air. But Reese has other plans. He wants something besides frosting in his stomach.

I perch myself up on the counter and watch as he raids my fridge, his hair wet and fuckably messy. “Where is all your food? The only thing in here is milk, some weird cheese, and jelly.” He closes the door and glowers at me. I’m busy pulling my damp hair up into a messy knot on top of my head when his question finally hits me.

“Oh, I eat out a lot. And what weird cheese?” I hop down and stick my head in the fridge, following his finger to the second shelf. I quickly close the door. “That is not cheese. Maybe it was at one point, but now, I’m not sure what it is.”

He laughs and pulls his phone out of his pocket, kissing the top of my head. “All right, well, I need to eat something besides you. What do you want? Chinese?”

I shrug. “I don’t care. I’m not really hungry.”

Pressing the buttons on his phone, I study him as he licks the slit running down his lip and brings his cell up to his ear. I reclaim my spot on the counter as he moves between my legs. This is becoming a regular position for us. My fingers slip under his shirt and I trace the hard lines of his stomach.

“Yeah, I want to place an order for delivery. Dylan’s Sweet Tooth on Fayette. Yes, one order of General Tso chicken and one order of shrimp lo mein. Nope that’s it.” He moves the phone away from his mouth. “What’s your last name?”

My jaw drops open. “You don’t know the girl’s full name who you are currently fucking? That’s just awful. I know yours, Carroll.” I cross my arms over my chest and push my boobs up, seeing his eyes flick down and linger for a long second.

“Dylan.”

I shake my head in disapproval. “It’s Sparks,” I huff.

He chuckles in amusement. “Wow. That’s ridiculously fitting.” Before I can ask him what the hell that meant, he looks away from me and pays attention to the call. “All right, thanks.” Placing the phone back in his pocket, he kisses me quickly on my nose and I groan in protest.

“Why is Sparks fitting?”

His lip twitches. “Because, you’re like this little firecracker.” I laugh as he plants a kiss on my forehead, running his hands up and down my arms. “Dinner will be here in twenty. Oh, before I forget, we’re having this big meeting with some clients on Tuesday, and I was wondering if you would like to provide some of your treats for it.”

I run my fingers through his damp hair, causing it to curl a bit at the ends. “I’d love to. What kind of treats?”

“I don’t know. It’s at ten a.m. so I guess breakfast treats?” His forehead creases as he looks past me and thinks it over.
Lord, he is adorable.

I smile and play with his T-shirt, bunching it up in my hands. “Well, I happen to make some mean breakfast treats. How many people am I providing for?”

“Twelve.”

I nod. “Okay. I’ll make sure to have enough for everyone to have three, that way if they don’t get eaten, which is absurd, then you can have the extra.”

“Great. I’ll pay you in orgasms.”
Well, that is way too tempting.
His smirk lingers as I carefully think about his offer, looking up at the ceiling for my answer.

“Eh,” I finally reply and he wraps me up, kissing me once and then once more, longer and softer as I melt.

We sit in comfortable silence as we eat our dinner on the floor in my living room. Reese makes sure to point out that I am indeed hungry, watching me with amusement as I tear into both of his orders. And I make sure to point out that he is the one who ate
most
of the frosting. I exhale heavily and lean against the partition, resting my hand on my belly as he sticks the leftovers in my fridge and returns to sit across from me.

“Full?” he asks.

“Very. That was crazy good though. I haven’t had Chinese since Joey and I ordered it on Easter weekend and we puked it up in my bathroom after a night of binge drinking.” He motions with his hands for me to elaborate. “He got dumped by this guy through a singing telegram.”

“Jesus, that’s really shitty. I didn’t realize those things were still around.”

I nod and laugh slightly. “Me either; it was awful. The telegram came to the shop and he sang in front of all these customers. Joey was so embarrassed.” I brush the tendril that is tickling my cheek out of my face. “So in typical
you just got dumped and your best friends are going to cheer you up
fashion, Juls and I bought all this alcohol and we played drinking games all night. It was really fun until we all got sick.” I shake my head at the memory. “And
that
is why Tequila and I are no longer on speaking terms.”

He laughs, resting back on his hands, his long legs stretching in front of him brushing against mine. “I can’t imagine you drunk. Do you get even feistier or are you an angry fireball? Because, honestly, I can kind of see both.”

I giggle and rub my bare foot against his leg. “Neither actually. I get really loud and start giving people nicknames, and then I usually get emotional which is always fun for everybody.” I laugh and he smiles at me. “What about you? Do you get extra flirty or do you start hitting people? Cause I can kind of see both.” He moves closer and pulls my foot into his lap, rubbing it and causing me to moan softly.

“I don’t get drunk. Well, at least I haven’t since I was seventeen. I don’t usually have more than a few drinks at a time.” He pauses briefly and narrows his eyes at me. “How old are you?” His weird line of questioning causes me to give him a strange look. He notices it and continues, “I just realized I have no idea.”

“Jeez, good thing I’m legal.” He smirks at me and I shake my head disapprovingly. “I’m twenty-six. So, why don’t you get drunk?”

He seems to mull over my answer with a smile. “I don’t want to, so I don’t. I think drinking specifically for the purposes of getting drunk is bullshit.”

“Well,
you
haven’t had someone break up with you through a musical number.” I pull my foot out of his grasp when he starts tickling it, quickly tucking it under my other knee. I try to stifle my yawn but give in to it, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands. I am thoroughly exhausted from all my orgasms, and my full belly is making me sleepy. Reese stands up and holds his hand out to me and I allow him to help me to my feet. This gesture will also never get old.