Addicted (Dylan O'Brien)

Chapter 69

Dylan's POV:

Groaning as I try to adjust my bruised body I feel the weight of Skylar next to me as my back presses into a wall. Shit, we slept in Skylar's bed last night meaning we slept in a cramped twin sized dorm bed that fucking sucks if your trying to recover from a fight. Rolling to my back, pain shoots up my left side and into my lungs. I struggle to catch my breath and force myself to slow my breathing.

Next to me Skylar stirs in her sleep and I freeze, afraid I'll wake her. Nothing happened between us no matter how much I teased her after slipping those skin tight leggings off her delicate body. However, we hardly slept,, for what ever damn reason I was in a talkative mood. I kept her up till at least four telling her about my mom. How I knew she had a good night with dad when she woke up and made French toast. Or how mom use to bake her famous cookies for those stupid school bake sales. All that changed though after dad threw his first swing at her. She was never the same after that, she stayed in bed in the morning until I left for school. She never went to school functions anymore, and if we went out she always had to wear makeup. It wasn't until I was older that I realized she'd become ashamed of herself...

I look down at Skylar, her dark hair  tussled in every which way and her beautiful face free of any makeup. She's my fucking angel dragging my ass out of hell. I don't fucking get it, dad claimed to of loved mom. If he had, how could that bastard hit her like he did? I can't even imagine laying a hand on Skylar in any other way that wouldn't end with her sighing my name.

Fuck....

Instantly all the blood in my body heads straight for my dick and the constant craving I have for Skylar burns through my body.

A wicked grin finds my lips, she can't swat me away in her sleep  and I can't help myself, screw the damn bruised ribs I need to hear my girl say my name.

I pull back the blanket slightly and trace her smooth stomach with my calluses fingers admiring just how different even our skin is. My knuckles are scared over from the fight and covered in old scarring from countless hours at the punching bag. Hers is so smooth, soft under my rough pads. She stirs once more as I slip my fingers under the light blue boy short she wore to bed. I begin stroking to soft delicate skin between her thighs feeling just seconds in her becoming wet. Fuck, my dick goes rock solid in my boxers and the caveman inside me wants to roll her onto her back and thrust inside her until she's screaming my name.

Her breathing begins quickening, leaning over I softly kiss her pink lips and I look up at her just as those eyes of hers shoot open and she gasps, "Dylan!" She breaths breathlessly.

There she is, my fucking angel gazing up at me, her eyes full of innocence as my fingers take what only belongs to me. Her mouth falls open and I can see the sleep and confusion lacing her facial features until pleasure takes their place.

"Dy-Dylan...." she begins panting and shifting below my fingers, "I can't...." her eyes roll back, her hand reaches out and grips my shirt in her fingers, "oh god..... please don't... don't stop." She whispers.

Her pleas are my commands. 

I push one of my thighs between her legs and force them apart, opening her more to me. Her folds are slick from my touch and I tease her entrance with my finger before pushing into her warmth. She cries out burying her face in my neck as I begin pumping my finger in and out of her slowly matching her breaths.

"Baby... do you feel me?" I ask and she nods trying to close her legs as I keep them open for me. "Not yet ok?" I need her to come for me but not yet.

She's gasping for breath and I can feel her legs begin to shake so I slow down my pace, "I want you to do something for me ok?"

"Dylan.... I can't...." she's breathless, nearly holding on and I'm fucking going insane knowing I'm about to be torturing not just her but myself.