Page 73 of The Nanny Game Plan
I have never been this full.
And I have never been with aman, not one like this.
As Dean begins to move, whispering filthy sweet things about how perfect my pussy feels on him, about how many times he’s dreamt of being buried deep inside me, about how much he needs to feel me coming on his cock, I realize all the men I’ve had before were boys.
Just silly, superficial boys who had no idea what it’s like to need someone like this.
“I want you like this every day. Every day, every fucking day,” he confesses into my hair, the words hot on my neck as we writhe faster, deeper, chasing the edge together. “Want your taste and your sweat and the sounds you make when you’re about to come for me. Fuck, Clover, listen to yourself, baby. Listen to how sexy you are. Listen.”
But I can’t hear anything but the roar of the blood in my ears as I buck into him one more time, two, and then— “Dean! Oh God, Dean!”
I grip his ass in both hands, digging my nails in and pulling him close as my inner walls clutch and squeeze and pleasure floods my bloodstream until I’m shimmering.
Spinning.
Chanting his name again and again as the wave rolls on and on.
He comes a beat later, with a manly groan that would make any of my fantasy warrior versions of him proud. He shovesdeep, holding still at the end of the thrust as he twitches and pulses inside me. And yes, I asked him to come inside me, but the fact that he’s actually doing it is…insanely hot.
Most men refuse.
Even when they know I have an IUD and we’re both STD-free. They refuse to indulge my kink, even after I’ve assured them numerous times that I have no urge to “trick” them into being a father and that my birth control is firmly in place and good for at least seven years.
But Dean…
God, Dean…
He fills me up. He comes and comes, until I can’t hold it, and our still joined bodies are making an unholy mess on the sunbed cushion. I can feel him leaking out of me, and it’s every bit as hot as my pervert brain thought it would be.
“So good,” I murmur against his cheek as he lies heavy on top of me after. “So, so good.”
“Incredible,” he agrees. He reaches down, squeezing my ass as he grinds even closer, making me suck in a breath as he shifts against my clit. “Love feeling you dripping around me.”
“Me, too,” I say, my breath hitching again as he rolls his hips in a lazy circle, making his softening, but still not completely soft, cock rub deliciously against my tingling inner walls. “Wh-What are you doing?”
“Seeing if I can make you come again before I pull out,” he says, drawing back far enough to hold my gaze. “What do you think? Can you give me one more, beautiful?” He circles his hips again, slow and easy, and keeps circling them, staring into my soul as he grinds against my clit. “Yeah, I think you can,” he murmurs as I begin to tremble. “There you go. Good girl,” he rumbles as he reaches up, teasing my nipple lightly between his finger and thumb.
I want to tell him I don’t go in for the “good girl” thing, either.
But, much like butt stuff, I’m starting to think I just haven’t met a man who could make it hot before.
And it’s not like I can talk right now, anyway, not when I’m suddenly being turned inside out by a bone-deep orgasm so intense that blissed out tears roll down my face as Dean murmurs, “Good girl. Yes, fuck, that’s so good, baby. You’re so beautiful when you come for me. When you’re soaking my cock like this. Fuck, Clover. Fuck, sweetheart, God, you’re so perfect.”
“Dean,” I gasp, clinging to him as I fight to survive what he’s done to my body. “Oh, Dean.”
I almost tell him right then that I love him.
Because in this moment, with his voice warm in my ear and his body deep inside me and all the pleasure he’s given me pickling my brain in happy chemicals, Idolove him. I’m not sure I’ve ever loved anyone or anything more, in fact.
Thankfully, before I can make an absolute idiot of myself, a voice calls from outside, no more than four or five feet from the shed, “See you later, Clover. I’m heading home, okay?”
Eyes flying wide and guilt flooding in fast, I call out, “I’m so sorry, Plato. So, so sorry. I’m a terrible person and friend.”
He laughs. “Nah, just horny. But don’t worry about it, you know I’m used to it.”
I wince, biting my lip for a beat before answering Dean’s unspoken question with a whisper, “His parents are swingers. He came over to escape the sexcapades.” In a louder voice, I call, “I’m still sorry. And I’ll make it up to you, I promise, okay?”
“Seriously, no worries. You crazy kids just be sure to get inside before you pass out. It’s going to get below freezing tonight,” he says, his voice moving farther away as he adds, “And check your kitchen table when you get the chance, Clover. I left you a little present.”
