Page 50 of Secrets That Bind Us

Dean

Present Day

Once we’re in the bedroom I waste no time shoving her cute dress up, shoving my face between her thighs and inhale deeply at her scent like a fucking animal.

I pull down her panties and she steps out of them fast. Grabbing her hips, I twirl her around and have her bend over for me, bracing herself on the edge of the bed so I can shove my tongue into her juicy pussy, slurping up every drop she gives me.

“Dean!” she spreads her thighs farther and I shove the cheeks of her ass open and shove my tongue there, too.

She gasps; thighs tremble but she doesn’t stop me.

I go back to her pussy and let my fingers rim her asshole.

One day I’ll get in there – but tonight is not that night.

I need to feel her come around my dick and I need to fill her pussy.

I groan, tasting her ambrosia, reaching down to unfasten my belt and my jeans, stroking my already aching cock.

God, she tastes so fucking good. I could eat her all day every day.

Every meal. I stand up, help her on the bed, position myself behind her and shove as much of myself as I can into her hot, already pulsating pussy, clenching around me like she needs more.

I fucking love that.

I pound into her so hard, my knees keep shuffling and sweat is already dampening my skin but I don’t give a fuck.

I shiver when Verity squeals my name as she comes around my dick, holding onto my headboard for dear life, just like I promised.

I reach over to the nightstand and grab the first available thing I can find to bind her hands to it.

Perfect- an old tie.

She’ll never be able to say I ain’t a man of my word.

After we dropped off Zo, we raced to her place because she was getting so handsy on the drive back. And I’m so fucking happy we’re here.

I wrap her hair around my wrist. “Got another one for me baby?”

“Yes, Dean, don’t fucking stop.”

“That’s my good fucking girl,” I spank her sweet ass as I plunge deeper into her succulent cunt, thanking every deity out there silently while I wreak havoc on my girl, going feral at the sight of the bounce of her ass on my abs.

This is what I’ve been missing for years.

“So fucking pretty, aren’t you, baby?” thrust “ My girl.” thrust “ My woman.” thrust “ My fiancé. The mother of my children.” thrust “Fuck, I love you.” Thrust, thrust, fucking thrust.

“Don’t stop talking, Dean. I'm so close.”

“That’s my girl. That’s it, baby,” I praise through gritted teeth. “Oh, God yes. Come for me baby. Soak my dick. I wanna feel you squeeze around me again. It’s too fucking good. It’s all I want. Gonna fill you up with all my cum, get this sweet pussy pregnant.”

“Oh my - fuck! Dean !” Her pussy clamps around me like a fucking vice, and my hips stutter, unable to hold back anymore.

“Oh, fuck! There you go, baby. Such a good girl. I love you. That’s right.

Milk my dick. Oh, fuck. Verity.” I groan her name, gripping tight on her lush hips when my balls draw up, and every fucking ounce of me shoots into her.

Black dots blur my vision, but I don't want to close my eyes. I want to be lost in the haze when I’m inside my bride-to-be.

My forever.

I bow over her to release her restraints, moving us quickly so we can lay down. But I don't withdraw. Not yet. I want to keep myself inside of her for a little longer. To stay connected to her. I look about the room, keeping my hand on her hip, rubbing my thumb over the smooth skin.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks.

I shake my head, squeezing where I was rubbing. “That it’s so pretty here,” I chuckle. “I don’t want to mess it up with my crap. It’s so grown up in here.”

She shifts to move, I’m sure to face me, but I don’t want her to, so I move my hand from her hip to her middle and hold her closer, nuzzling into her neck.

“I want your stuff here, Dean. I want your Peewee tournament trophies on my shelves. I want your manties in my drawers. I want your uniform hung up in our closet.”

Our.

“Wait. Did you just say my manties ?”

She giggles sleepily. “You know, man panties. Your boxer briefs. Your long johns. Your-”

I laugh with her. “Alright. Alright, I get the idea. I’ll stuff your drawers full of my drawers.”

She giggles again, and my dick jumps at the movement. “Plus, maybe I’ve already gotten rid of a few things in my closet to make space for yours. You know, since you’ve been leaving your clothes here a lot.”

“And Bear?” I ask.

She sighs. “The kids are already attached to him. I just hope he doesn’t eat Clifford.”

“He’s a big baby. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I know. I love him, too. He never chews my slippers.”

“If he did, I'd buy you more.”

“Dean?” She sighs my name sleepily.

I kiss the back of her head and as close to her temple as I can get. “Yeah, baby?”

“I love you so much. I can't wait to marry you. Don't let me fall asleep on my back, okay?”

“Can I keep my dick in you all night?”

“Mmhmm.” she hums happily, settling deeper into her pillows, and I breathe in her scent, noticing the subtle differences in it.

In her. I love them- her - just the same.

Probably even more now than ever- and I get to fall in love with her all over again.

I let that thought soothe me as I shift around just a bit more.

And let my eyes shut.

Thunder booms outside, pelts of rain hitting the window, and lightning flashing like a warning sign in an empty bed.

I clear my throat, get out of bed, and head to the bathroom to relieve myself before going to search for Verity.

Our room is empty, so is the living room.

I head to the kitchen, but it’s like… it’s like she just left in the middle of the night.

I go back the way I came, stopping between the kitchen and the dining room.

There’s a heavy feeling everywhere, almost oppressive, unsettling my stomach.

Every hair on the back of my neck stands up on end.

I’m about to call out for her, but I hear a creak coming from the top of the stairs and… mumbling .

I try not to think about it, pushing that memory to the back of my mind as a form on the top of the stairs comes together, all in white.

But it’s not. Verity’s there. Standing in my shirt.

It swallows her. But she looks like she did thirteen years ago.

Long mahogany waves, her face young, soft with roundish cheeks.

Gone are the angles that age and motherhood have brought on.

Her eyes are wide open in panic, and they dart to the side.

The low, mumbling hum is still there, but her lips aren’t moving.

Impossible.

Thud, thud, thud.

But the noise isn’t coming from her, it’s coming from behind her. More whimpering noises follow, and I try to search where they’re coming from.

There’s a static in the air, the mumbling now a soft hum I can feel all over my body.

It’s freezing .

Small puffs of fog leave my mouth as I try to gain some kind of balance as to what I’m seeing.

There’s a form behind her, and suddenly it’s all too real.

Verity stretches her arms out, like she’s blindfolded and trying to find her way, her chest heaving as she tries to breathe deeper, but each one is a shudder.

“Mama?” she whimpers, and I can tell she’s scared out of her goddamn mind. I try to move, to get to her, because I know how this scene ends. But it feels like I’m wading through swamp water with a hundred pound tire tied to my waist.

“Verity!” I scream, but my voice only carries so far.

What is happening?

She screams for her mother again, but this time she’s flipped on her back– reliving the worst night of her life.

The one I know she can’t remember. Won’t remember.

It sounds like a teakettle somewhere is going off, the pressure in the room chaotic as it is calm.

Black dots appear in the sides of my periphery, my head beginning to pound as I scream her name one last time.

I wake up with a jolt, the sun shining through the window, the sounds of a keyboard clicking and clacking.

I look over and see Verity– hair up in a messy bun on her head, in my shirt– typing away on her laptop in the chair by the window that shows it’s still raining, feet up on the small ottoman.

I’m exhausted. Every muscle in my body hurts, and my mind feels foggy.

She reaches over and grabs a mug of coffee from the small end table and brings it to her lips.

“Baby?”

Her gaze lifts from her laptop to me, lips parting in a beautiful smile. “Hey, baby. Good morning. Coffee’s on the pot. I made some sausage rolls. I just pulled them out of the oven to cool. Did I wake you?”

Sitting up, I blink. “No you didn’t… you didn’t wake me.” I stretch my arm out to her, and she comes to me willingly. She puts her laptop on the ottoman, has me hold her mug until she climbs right into bed with me again, and it feels fucking good . “How are the kids?”

She snuggles deeper into me. “They’re good. Zoey’s bringing them by a little later. So much wedding stuff to take care of, still.”

I yawn. “What time is it?”

“A little after seven.”

It feels like I’ve barely slept a wink.

“Why are you up so early?”

She blushes, taking another sip, brown eyes peering at me over the big mug that probably holds two cups of coffee. “Woke up feeling a little inspired.”

I arch a brow, holding back my own grin. “Oh yeah? What’s your story about?” I ask, looking up at the ceiling, still wondering if last night was real or a fucking nightmare. It had to have been a nightmare, right?