One of these days, we’ll actually fornicate on a mattress.
But I’ve gotta say, I’m kind of liking the wild, outdoor s*x thing.
A part of me is still mad at him for how he’s been acting—so controlling, jealous, and hot-headed. As I kiss him, though, that anger manifests itself as intense, hungry passion—passion that winds up with me pressed up against a tree, legs curled around him, neck arched back with pleasure as he buries himself deep inside me with almost no warning.
I’ve heard before that foreplay is important, and after seeing how good at it Dean is, I take no issue with that statement. But I also know that the way he makes me feel down there—the way even looking at him or smelling him makes me feel—there’s no actual need for it, in terms of my own readiness. I was dripping with d
