MY COUSIN'S BOYFRIEND IV

I sat there, stunned, the phone still pressed to my ear. Less than an hour. She’d been there less than an hour and she was already fucking her ex. The same ex she’d sworn nothing would happen if they met.

All her promises about loving Dylan and wouldn't do anything to hurt him were all bullshit. She'd lied to him and to me.

The guilt I'd been drowning in just a few minutes ago evaporated, replaced by a bitter relief. If she could betray Dylan like that, why should I beat myself up for a few texts? Whatever I did wasn't right, but it leveled the playing field.

I checked my phone again, even though I already knew what I’d find. No new messages from Dylan. He’d disappeared just like that.

With a sigh, I pulled the comforter back up and reached for my laptop on the nightstand. My show loaded again, and I tried to lose myself in it, but it was useless. My thoughts kept drifting back to Dylan; to his thick cock, his voice, the filthy things he’d whispered to me. To the way he had—

No. I shut the memory down hard. I couldn’t think about him anymore. I’d deceived him. That was the only reason he’d shared those pictures with me. If he’d known I wasn’t Joan, he never would have.

I woke up to a hand squeezing my right boob and a hot mouth kissing my neck. I turned in the bed, a yelp escaping my lips, but it was swallowed instantly by lips pressed firmly against mine. My body reacted on instinct, arching into the kiss even as my mind screamed in confusion.

I could recognize that masculine scent anywhere.

It was Dylan. Here. In Joan's bed. Kissing me.

Oh fuck. Why was he here? Joan had sworn he was two hours away, tied up with that family emergency, and he hated driving at night. Hated it. So how the hell had he gotten here? And why was he touching me like this, kissing me like I was his? My heart pounded so hard I thought it might bruise my ribs. The room spun a little—maybe from the shock, maybe from the way his body heat seeped through the covers, pressing against me.

He pulled away after what felt like an eternity but was probably only a minute and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. His green eyes locked onto mine in the dim light filtering through the curtains, and for a split second, I saw something flicker there—recognition? Amusement? But it was gone before I could grasp it.

"I had to come," he murmured in a low voice."Couldn't take it anymore, baby. Seeing you on that call... fuck, it drove me crazy."

I smelled the alcohol on his breath as he leaned in again. Was he drunk? That had to be it. That was why he didn't realize the woman he was groping so intimately wasn't his girlfriend. Why he hadn't noticed that our kiss felt different. Why he couldn't see I was literally shaking, my thighs trembling under the comforter from the fear of being found out. One wrong move, and he'd know.

I should have moved away. But God, his touch felt good. Too good. 

But still wrong.

"Dylan," I whispered, my voice barely audible, laced with panic. I pushed weakly at his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle under his shirt. "What are you doing? I'm not..."

"Shhh, baby," he cut me off, his mouth brushing my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "Don't talk. Just let me take care of you. You looked so damn needy on that call. Those texts... that picture. Fuck, you've got me so hard already."

He didn't call me Joan. Just baby. Some distant part of my brain noted that, but I was too overwhelmed to question it. His hand slid lower, tracing the curve of my waist, dipping under the nightdress to skim my bare skin. I gasped as heat pooled between my legs again.

"You're shaking," he said, his lips curving into a smirk against my neck. He nipped at the sensitive skin there, and I bit back a moan. "Is that from the fever? Or because you want this as bad as I do?"

"I... I don't know," I stammered, which was the truth. Fear and desire twisted inside me, making it hard to think. His fingers danced lower, teasing the edge of my panties, and I clenched my thighs together instinctively.

He chuckled. "Liar. I can feel how wet you are already." His hand cupped me through the fabric, pressing firmly, and I arched off the bed with a whimper. "Yeah, just like that. Open up for me, baby."

I knew he was drunk and was probably mistaking me for Joan but I couldn't stop him. I didn't want to, if I was honest. Years of crushing on him, watching him with Joan, imagining what it would be like... and now here he was, touching me like I was the only woman in the world.

He kissed me again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made my toes curl. His free hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head back to expose my throat. He trailed kisses down it, sucking lightly at my pulse point until I was panting.

"You taste so good," he growled. "Better than I imagined."

Imagined? The word snagged in my brain, but then his mouth was on my breast, pulling the nightdress down to expose me. He sucked my nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, and all coherent thought fled. I threaded my fingers through his dark hair, holding him there as pleasure shot straight to my core.

"Dylan, please," I begged, not even sure what I was asking for.

He lifted his head and smirked again. "Please what, baby? Tell me."

"I... touch me. More."

He grinned triumphantly and shifted down the bed, pushing the covers aside. His hands hooked into my panties and slid them down my legs with agonizing slowness. His gaze burned hot as he looked at me.

"Fuck, look at you. So pretty and wet for me."

He settled between my thighs, his broad shoulders spreading me wide. His breath ghosted over my pussy, and I bucked my hips involuntarily.

"Patience," he teased, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. Then another, higher.  "I've wanted to taste you like this for so long."

Before I could process that, his mouth was on me. His tongue licked a slow, flat stripe up my slit, and I cried out, my hands fisting the sheets.

"So sweet," he murmured. "Knew you'd be addictive."

One hand held my hip down as I writhed and the other slipped two fingers inside me, curling them just right to hit that spot that made my vision blur.

"Oh God, Dylan," I moaned, arching my back to give him easy access. "Don't stop."

He didn't. He sucked my clit between his lips and flicked it with his tongue while his fingers pumped in and out, building a rhythm that had me teetering on the edge in minutes. The room filled with the wet sounds of his mouth on me and my moans and whimpers. I was close.

"Yes, just like that," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look up at me, his chin glistening with my juices. Ride my tongue, baby. I want you coming on my face."

Then he was back, devouring me, his free hand pinning my hip down as I writhed. 

I shattered. My pussy clenched hard around his fingers as I screamed his name out loud. He lapped at me through it, drawing out every aftershock until I was boneless.