He unbuckles his seatbelt, turning towards me. In one swift move, his hands are on my hips, and he’s dragging me into his lap, his hands pushing up my skirt so that the hot, wet length of his cock is pressed against my naked pussy.
Dean reaches down, pushing his seat back, and he pulls me down harder against him, one of his hands going into my hair. I feel his cock wedge between my folds as he drags my mouth down to his, the hard ridge of it rubbing against my clit, the tip bumping up against my entrance as I grind down onto him without thinking, forgetting that he’s someone I should hate, forgetting every awful thing he’s made me do in the rush of burning desire that overwhelms me.
He kisses me greedily, possessively, his hand winding in my hair as I ride the ridge of his cock, grinding against him as a deep, intense pleasure washes over me. “You’re mine,” Dean growls against my mouth, biting my lower lip hard enough to almost draw blood. “Mine, Athena.”
I laugh, feeling it bubble up almost maniacally in my chest. I grind harder against him, feeling my orgasm rising up as I reach down and grasp his face in my hands, feeling the strong line of his jaw pressing against my palms.
“You don’t want me,” I whisper, rolling my hips. “You want the power I can give you. You want the town, and if it were any other girl who could give it to you, you’d fuck her instead. I’m nothing to you, but a means to an end. It’s not me you want. It’s just the power.”
As the last words slip off of my tongue, I feel my thighs tremble, the orgasm washing over me as I desperately rub myself against Dean’s cock, tilting my hips back so the ridge of the head is rubbing against my tender, pulsing clit, and I cry out as he kisses me again hard, his hand sliding down to grab a handful of my ass as he sucks my lip into his mouth, his nose smashed against mine as he devours me.
“It’s the same thing,” he growls. “You, power, the town, I’ll take it all. It’s all the same to me. I want all of that, and I’ll have it.”
I reach down, wrapping my hand around him, and he groans as I squeeze his throbbing shaft, angling him so that the head of his cock is pressed against my soaked entrance, still fluttering with the aftershocks of my short, intense orgasm. “It’s not the same,” I gasp, sliding down onto him, feeling him stretch me, fill me, long and thick and impossibly hard.
“It is,” Dean insists, his voice deep and rasping. “It’s the same fucking thing.”
“No.” I shake my head. “And do you know why?”
Dean’s hand fists in my hair. “No.”
I hold his face in my hands, looking down into his ice-blue eyes. “Because if I can give you that power, I can take it away, too.”
I start to ride him then, hard and fierce, slamming down onto him with each stroke, my body clenching around him as his hips rise up to meet me. I hear his snarl as his hand tangles hard in my hair, pulling my head back, his mouth going to my throat to suck and bite there, teeth sinking in so that I know he’ll leave a mark. I know he wants to mark me, to let the others see that he’s had me again, to lay his claim, and I lash out, my hand gripping his hair tightly as I yank his head back, his teeth breaking the skin of my neck as I force him to let go.
I’m still fucking him as hard as he’s fucking me when I drag his head back against the seat, even as he tries to writhe away from me. I go for his neck, my mouth latching onto his skin as I suck hard, intent on leaving a bite just as bold as the one I can feel throbbing on my own throat.
“Fuck!” Dean growls, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to leave bruises, his fingers sinking into my skin, and I can feel another orgasm coming like a freight train, my clit grinding against his pelvis as I ride him faster and harder than I’d ever imagined doing, my other hand fisting in his shirt as I sink my teeth into his neck.
He twists away from me, and I look down into his eyes, knowing my own must be half-crazed, glazed with pleasure and need. I see something wild in Dean’s, too, that thing that I wanted to drag out of him, to see what was under that lordly exterior.
“Come in me,” I whisper, rolling my hips atop him hard. “I’m going to come, Dean, so fucking come with me. I want it all.” I feel him throb inside of me, and my body starts to pulse and shudder, my back arching as I throw my head back. “Fuck yes, give me your cum, oh my god, oh my fucking god, Dean!”
I hate myself for screaming his name even as it leaves my lips, but it’s so fucking good. He feels so good. Thrusting up into me and then holding himself there, his cock throbbing as he starts to shoot inside of me, a hot rush of so much cum that I can already feel it slipping out of me, sticky on my thighs, and his arms are around me, his lips moaning my name too, his fingers clutching at my shoulders as his hips jerk upwards against me helplessly, Both of us so lost in our pleasure that we’ve stopped caring why we’re doing this or what we’re supposed to feel, only that he needs me and I need him at this moment because we want each other and we want to fucking come.
“Fuck,” Dean breathes as I feel his grip start to loosen, and I know I’m going to be sore as hell tomorrow, but part of me just doesn’t care. It felt so fucking good, and even now, I’m having a hard time remembering that I’m supposed to be working against Dean, choosing someone else, keeping him from being my real choice.
But just now, I chose. He wasn’t forcing me to do anything. I wanted that, all of it, him in my hand and my mouth and inside of me, and I didn’t want to stop. I just wanted him, to ride him, to look down into those gorgeous blue eyes and see him as he came apart.
“Yeah,” I whisper shakily. I don’t move for a moment, still frozen on his lap, unsure of what this means—for me, for him, for anything. I want to pretend like it never happened, but I don’t know if we can do that.
I just know that I’m still angry that I’ve been used as a pawn. And I’m still not ready to be Dean’s completely, whatever that means.
I don’t know what he feels for me, if anything. And I’m not about to give myself to a man or give him power when he’ll just throw me aside once he’s gotten what he wants.
Quickly, I slip out of his lap, squeezing my thighs together.
“You’re going to get my seat sticky,” Dean says, but it doesn’t really sound like he cares.
There’s a thick, heavy silence in the car. My face is flushed hot in the darkness, burning as the rush of what we just did starts to fade. I can hear the sound of Dean zipping himself up and the purr of the engine starting.
For once, he doesn’t taunt me. He doesn’t make any comments about what we just did, how much I wanted it, or how much of a slut I am for wanting it. He just drives, normally this time, through the starless night all the way back to the house on campus.
He turns the car off when we get there, and for a moment, there’s that silence again, louder than anything either of us could have said to each other. He opens the door and comes around to open mine. When I step out, the cool night breeze ruffling my skirt and my hair, the inside of my thighs sticking together as a reminder of what happened barely a half-hour ago, Dean just looks at me, an unreadable expression in his ice-blue eyes.
“Good night,” he says finally. And then he turns, striding quickly up the steps ahead of me and not bothering to look back.
For once, I can’t think of a single thing to say in return.