That thought makes his cock swell hard.
I shake my head again.
He shifts his hips, pushing against me. Since I just got out of the shower, I’m naked beneath my robe. One tug at the belt and he’d be sliding his cock against my bare skin. I draw in a breath. My heart is thumping, especially with him straddling me and looming over me the way he is.
“So?” he asks. “What was it?”
I stare at the bulge in his flannel pajama pants. “You.”
“Yeah?” He’s still rubbing up against me. “What were we doing?”
A blush begins to creep up my neck. “Um, you know. Having sex.”
He pauses and eyes me skeptically. “What kind of sex?”
“Regular… just regular sex.” I try to keep my voice casual, but he’s not buying it.
Dean sits back on my thighs and continues to look down at me.
“Your reaction was pretty hot for regular sex,” he says.
“Well, you did say I was lusty,” I remind him.
“Which is exactly why I don’t believe you were having a dream about regular sex.”
He tugs at the knot on my bathrobe belt. I squirm and try to buck him off again. He pulls the knot loose and eases apart the flaps of my robe.
“Very nice.” He gazes down at my damp skin—though I don’t know if that’s from the shower or if I’m starting to sweat.
Then he palms my breasts and runs his fingers across my hard nipples. His touch is light, gentle, and delicious. I press my legs together because I’m throbbing.
“Tell me.” He trails his hand down to my belly button, then lower to brush my mons. “Tell me and I might let you come.”
Oh, God. I’m helpless against that kind of talk, and he knows it.
“Dean.”
“Uh huh. Where were we in your dream?”
“Um.” My flush deepens. I twitch under his teasing touch. “On a… a ship.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “A ship.”
“Yeah. A… a pirate ship.”
“A pirate ship.” Dean stares at me before a glint of humor lights in his eyes. “And might I have been a pirate?”
I skirt my gaze from his and look at the ceiling. “You might have been, uh, the pirate captain.”
He laughs, but it’s so filled with affection and amusement that I can’t be irritated. He leans down to kiss me again, his tongue stroking the corners of my lips. Desire rushes through me.
“The pirate captain, huh?” he says. “And what were you?”
“A captured maiden.”
“And did I ravish you?”
“Totally.”
He sits back and squeezes my breasts. “Tell me.”
By now I’m getting so aroused I’ll tell him anything if it means he’ll give me an orgasm. I take a deep breath and shift underneath him, making sure his erection rubs against my belly again.
“You had me tied down in the… whatever it’s called. The brig or something. Had my… my hands tied above my head.”
“What were you wearing?”
“A long dress.” I can’t think straight with his fingers tweaking my nipples like that. “I can’t remember why you captured me. I think you wanted my land or something. Maybe it was my house. Or maybe I owed you money for a—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Dean interrupts. “Get back to the ravishing.”
“Well, you had me tied up down there, and then one night I heard you coming down the stairs. You threw open the door and stalked in, all angry and menacing. You untied my hands and ordered me to pull up my skirts.”
“And did you?” His eyes are starting to get a little glazed with arousal, which makes me warm to the story.
“Uh huh. All the way up past my hips. Skirt and petticoats. Then you told me to pull down my drawers and turn around so you could see my ass. Next thing I knew you were standing right behind me. I could feel your breath on the back of my neck. Then you… you spanked me.”
“I spanked you?”
“Several times. You were wearing leather gloves. It stung. Made my cheeks red. But it also made me wet.” Now that my hands are free, I reach up to caress the bulge in his pants. “Then you told me to bend over a barrel.”
“And you did.”
“I did.” I grasp the waistband of his pants and pull them down. When his large, beautiful cock springs free, I can’t help sighing. “I knelt down on the cold stone floor and positioned myself over an oak barrel with my drawers down and my petticoats up. You told me to reach back and spread my…”
The blush fires my skin again. I can’t help it.
“Spread your…” Dean prompts.
“Spread my * for you.”
His cock pulses in my grip. The evidence of his reaction, his lust, has my blood burning.
“You did it,” he says.
“While you watched,” I add. Parts of the dream are still vivid, but other parts have faded with daylight. At this point, though, I don’t care whether I dreamed it or am making it up on the spot. “Then I felt your hands skimming over my ass again, felt you kneeling behind me.”