Sex Scene Championship 2015 – Round 1 :Leela Lou Dahlin (@LeelaLou_2) Vs Rebecca Grace Allen (@RGraceAllen) #SSceneC2015

Posted August 1, 2015 by Nix in Sex Scene 2015 / 1 Comment


Rumor Has It : Leela Lou Dahlin
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Leela Lou Dahlin Rumor Has It“So you need my help.” She wouldn’t have been herself if she let this go without some teasing. He always made her feel so free. She wouldn’t have given anyone else grief about this; she would have said yes or no, and that would have been the end of it.

“The fire department needs your help.”

“Oh.” She pretended to think about that. She got up and took her plate to the sink. “What if I don’t want to help the fire department?” She turned to look at him as he shook his head.

“Why wouldn’t you want to help the fire department? They have workers who rescue people and have helped you a time or two, and one of your best buddies is a fire fighter.”

“Really? Who is that?” He didn’t say anything, and that always amazed her how his silence could say so much. “Yeah…but he doesn’t need my help. That came straight from the horse’s mouth.”

He set his plate by hers and turned so they were both facing each other. “If I said I needed your help, would you do it?”

“In a heartbeat.” She tried to sound playful, but she knew the sentence was squeezed from her soul and sounded like it. She watched his eyes dilate, and something flashed on his face, but it was so quick it was hard to interpret. He watched her mouth, and she almost went up on tiptoe to get closer, but she stopped herself right before she did it.

He took a step toward her, and she backed up. They repeated this twice, until she had her back to the wall. He brought his hand up to stroke her cheek, and she closed her eyes and leaned into the caress. There was only silence until she opened her eyes.

“I need you,” he said in a voice so soft that if she hadn’t been this close, she wouldn’t have heard him, but before she could enjoy the success, her mouth was treated to a sweet assault. She wanted to kiss him with everything she had, but she feared she would be just like all the others. What if this was a pity kiss, like the pity sex she’d received yesterday? When he groaned, his kiss got wetter, wilder, and hotter, and she couldn’t hold back. She fisted her hands in his hair and held him to her.

Desire clouded her senses, and all she knew was that she wanted the complete package right now. First she needed to see the tool that had brought her such pleasure, and she felt bold enough to try. Pushing him back, she moved to her knees, undid the buttons on his jeans, and found him thick and throbbing beneath his black boxer briefs.

Putting her mouth on him through the cotton and breathing in the smell of clean laundry and hot Liam, she could hear his breathing change and was exhilarated that she could have this effect on him. Her body was answering his arousal with her own. For so long, she’d wished she could do this for him…do this for herself. One moment she was planning to peel away the cotton and taste her prize, and the next she was pulled from her knees and into a loose hug and light kiss that didn’t allow for any touching of any excitable areas.

She knew he had come to his senses. He continued to kiss her. The sweet kiss didn’t stop abruptly. She felt like their souls had been meshing with these kisses, so she felt when it changed. It was as if a part of him withdrew. He gave her a few more light pecks on her mouth, but he was over it, she could tell. He turned and walked away, adjusted himself, and buttoned up his pants.

“You didn’t have to kiss me to get me to agree to help you,” she whispered, afraid if she spoke louder, all the things she wanted to say would find their way out of her mouth.

“I know that.” He’d moved back to the sink to scrape the food into the disposal, and she moved right next to him. She didn’t know what to do. She’d made it clear what she wanted to do to him, but she didn’t know what he felt about that.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know that too.”

She went to clean off the table since the mood had changed and she still wasn’t sure what was going on with him. The old her would have just asked what was wrong, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear him voice regrets about what they’d done.

“See you tomorrow.”

She didn’t want to watch him leave, especially like this, but she knew he had to go to work. “I’ll be there.” Trying to put a cheery voice on, she hoped that maybe he didn’t know her as well as she knew him. It was quiet for so long, she thought he might have left the kitchen and gone out the door quietly, but she could still feel him watching her. She didn’t want him to see what was surely on her face. More time was needed to pull herself together.

“That kiss wasn’t payment for anything,” he said to her back, not close enough that she could feel his warmth, but she could smell him. “No one makes me do anything I don’t want to or say anything I don’t want to say.”

“I hope not.”

“You’re going to make me staying away from you hard for me. Aren’t you?”

“I’m not trying to.”

“I know, but you’re doing it anyway.” He turned her to face him and then rubbed his knuckle softly along her jaw. “It’ll get better.”


Hierarchy of Needs : Rebecca Grace Allen
Author Links : Website | Twitter | Facebook
Buy Links : Amazon US | Amazon UK | B&N

“Too many clothes,” he snarled. “You’re wearing too many fucking clothes.”

“I like my clothes.”

Snarky words, but she was panting despite them. Dean skimmed the bottom of her sweater up her sides, pushing the fabric over her head.

“I like them too. But I’ll like them better off you.” He yanked off his shirt, tossed it to

the ground and growled, “Shoes.”

Jamie complied, eagerly kicking them off. Dean’s brain buzzed as he stepped out of his boots, everything she’d told him about her severed dreams settling into a low hum like a rattling engine in his thoughts. He hoped she’d be able to find a way out of the life she’d let herself get tangled in. That someday she’d get everything she aspired for, and have that

exciting life down in New York City.

But not right now.

Right now, she was his.

He gripped her leggings and dragged them down, some kind of caveman, testosterone-filled urge taking over him, wanting to prove she wouldn’t be able to “get him out of her system”. That two nights with him would only make her want him more. He knew he shouldn’t want that, because he refused to trap her any more than she’d already trapped herself, but God, he couldn’t help it.

Dean moved to stand, stopping short when he saw the scrap of fabric at the apex of her thighs: a triangle of sheer white, laced up like a corset and held together with a tiny bow.

“Jesus,” he breathed.

So this was what she’d been hiding from him. Thank fuck he hadn’t known about it, or he would’ve been hard all day. His brain registered that her bra matched too, but he couldn’t draw his eyes away from the mouth-watering sight in front of him.

Curling his hands around her hips, he brought his mouth to her cloth-covered slit. Her skin was smooth and soft beneath it, bare except for a tiny strip of hair. He kissed her fully, over and over, and she dropped her hands to clutch his hair. Dean closed his eyes and concentrated on the way she moved, how she tried to gather more of the sensation, body arching off the wall. Every reaction notched his need to epic proportions, but he held it in check. Making her come wasn’t enough. He wanted to take this glorious girl out of the corner she’d let herself get put in, and make her see herself the way he did.

He slid her panties down her legs, then stood and unclasped her bra. It landed in a pile with the rest of their clothes. He shucked his jeans and boxers, adding them to the mess, then finally kissed her.

Jamie clawed at his back, the pure hunger in her response jacking him up even higher. He palmed her thighs, hitching them up over his waist. She wrapped her legs around him, kissing him frantically as he walked them to the bed.

“How do you want it, Jamie?”

“I don’t care,” she said in between kisses. “Just take me.”

He dug fingers into her backside, reveling in her hiss. “How? Specifically.”

If tonight was going to be his last night with her, he was going to make it memorable.

She panted, cautious, then whispered, “From behind. Hard.”


He eased her down to the floor. “Bend over the bed.”

Jamie turned around, doing as she was told. Dean palmed his dick, unable to resist the urge to stroke at the sight of her ass on display. She looked over her shoulder, glanced at his slowly pumping fist and grinned.

He reached for a condom, quickly rolling it on. Another minute of that and this whole thing would be over before it even started. Dean nudged her legs apart with his knee, then bent down to kiss the divots above her bottom and mapped her spine with his tongue.

Her hips flexed. “Please.”

He ignored her plea and slipped his hands beneath her to cup her breasts, tweaking lightly at her nipples before sliding down lower. Teasing her flesh, he coaxed her open, thumbs light over her clit. She whined and pushed back against him. Groaned his name.

He loved how turned on she was, how hungry and restless. That was how he wanted her—this time anyway.

Next time, he’d let her take what she needed.

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