Paradise City

The tension was thick.

It thinned out the air and I knew that I wasn't just hallucinating that it was hard to breathe. It was. It was the build-up, the foreplay, the moment that I knew I would have to face sooner rather than later. If I said I hadn't planned for this to happen, I would be lying. But I never thought it would feel like this.

My back was pressed up against the cold wall of the elevator. A chilling shudder moved through my body like a wave. Dean stood directly in front of me, and even though I wasn't looking at him- I couldn't, because I knew that if I did I'd be a putty in his hands- I knew that he was watching me; searching for verification, validation, allowance.

My eyes flickered up to his and then traveled down that perfect nose, to rest on his lips. I needed them. I wanted them to find every inch of my body. I rested a hand on his hip, lopping my fingers through a belt loop. I slightly tugged, pulling him closer to me, silently wishing that we could be infused.

He took the hint, hoisting me up to him, allowing my legs to wrap tightly around his waist. The doors sprang open. I was already working at the buttons on his shirt. His skin was so warm underneath the thin fabric.

I couldn't wait any longer.

He fumbled with his keys as he tried to get in the apartment as quickly as he could. I dropped his shirt to the floor, as I felt his hands clawed at my back. Before I knew it we were falling to the bed, and I was working on the zipper of his jeans.

"Wait, Callie." He stopped me after I popped open the button. He took my hands in his, kissing each one of my fingertips delicately. "There's no need to hurry."

Dean sat up underneath me, leaning against the headboard. He was the image of perfection, and I wanted to memorize every part of him with my mouth as if my eyes weren't good enough; from the stubble on his chin to the silk skin of his abs. I wanted to know how they felt against my lips.

We sat there, just watching each other. With wide eyes and long, heavy breaths we slowed the pace. A softer, more sensual pace that had me desperately impatient. Dean's hand cupped my cheek. His rough thumb caressed my skin as my eyes lulled back. He placed a tender kiss on my temple, my cheek, the tip of my nose, the corner of my mouth, my chin. Then his lips softly found mine.

There was nothing more passionate than this.

Deans hands roamed my back, as the kiss deepened. I could feel him twirling strands of hair that had escaped from it's place, slightly tugging at them. The sensation sparked something deep inside of me that hadn't already been lit. I began pulling my hair out of it's confines, throwing bobby-pins every which way, until my hair was completely free. Dean snaked a hand through it, balling a fist, and pulling my head backwards; exposing my neck to him, allowing his lips to completely devour me.

He bit down, a throaty moan escaped my lips. Dean pulled back to look at me, his eyes were dark and hungry. Without a word being said, I knew he was ready. I could feel the zipper on my dress start to come undone. He was taking him time; slow, teasing me like I had teased him for weeks. It was okay now that he was in control, he could do whatever he wanted.

I was anxious. I had never been naked in front of a man before. I had never seen a naked man before. Not in person, anyways. What if he didn't like me? What if my boobs were too small? What if my thighs were too jiggly? What if he thought the small stretchmarks on my hip were disgusting?

Stop thinking, I told myself.

The dress was barely hanging on to me, now. Dean lifted me off of him, flipping me over so that he was on top, now. He grabbed the ends of the fabric and inched it down the length of my body until I was laying there in nothing but a pair of grey, cotton underwear. I studied his facial expression, desperate to find any clue on how he was feeling, but found nothing but pure, unadulterated lust.

It wasn't fair that I was here, nearly naked in front of him, while he still had his jeans on. The undone button was teasing at me to finish the job. I sat up quickly, hands flying to his zipper and slowly, if not slower than he undid my dress, I unzipped the short zipper of his jeans. He maneuvered out of them quickly, tossing them across the room.

I didn't focus on anything other than the erection that was so desperately wanting to be free. Instinctively, I teased it, running a finger along the base to the tip. Dean's head rolled back as he cursed under his breath. I peeled the elastic of his boxers down, and watched with wide eyes as his cock bobbed in the openness. Gripping it with one hand, I wrapped my lips around the tip. As I opened my mouth further, allowing Dean to slide himself inside of me completely, I could feel him beginning to shake under my touch.

Dean pulled himself from me, taking himself in his hand, and outlining my lips with the tip of his cock. He dipped into my mouth, first only just a little, and then all at once; mumbling curse words into the quietness of his bedroom.

"Lay down."

I did as I was told, laying back on the cool sheets. He stroked himself as he watched my exposed body waiting for him, completely eager for his next move. He wedged himself between my legs, bending completely, hovering over me. He trailed hungry kisses from my jaw to my chest, taking time on each one of my breasts; cupping both of them in his large hands, sucking and nibbling on my hard nipples.

The feeling was amazing. It tickled and hurt, and all I wanted was more. I pulled at Dean's hair, pushing his head to go further down. He kissed and bit and sucked his way from my breasts to navel, and finally stopped over the spot I had been keeping locked up. He looked up at me, as if to ask me if it were okay for him to continue. Like I would want to just stop there.

"Please." I begged.

He inched my panties down my thighs, pulling them over my knees, and dropped them over the side of the bed. This was it. There was nothing else for me to hide from him. He had me in the most vulnerable position. Dean Ambrose had seen all of me, knew everything about me, and he still wasn't leaving. He was still here, placing a line of kisses up my inner thigh.

The intensity was mounting. I had only dreamt of what this would feel like since I had learned what sex was. I felt like I was going to explode as Dean hovered between my legs, breathing slowly onto my sex. His eyes watched me, hot and wild, testing me.

Suddenly, his hot mouth was covering me. I gasped at the feeling of something completely new there, but after the initial shock subsided, I was able to enjoy it. The sounds of him sucking my clit, the wiggling of his tongue inside me was bewildering. My entire body had to have heated up a good fifty degrees. Dean's hands remained on my hips keeping my in place. Mine roamed the bed around me, frantically; pulling at the sheets, my breasts, his hair. My back arched to him as his tongue danced around my slit. His unshaven cheeks tickled my thighs, almost causing me to giggle.

And then he hit something. Something so raw, like a live wire. I felt it down to the core, and it sent a tremor through me. He came back to it again, and again, and again, and again until I was screaming his name so loudly I knew the entire building could hear me. I moved my hips against his mouth, holding his head in place and I rode out the wave of pleasure that rocked my entire being.

Dean pulled himself from me, breathing heavily, licking his lips. He pulled me into a deep kiss, allowing me to taste myself on his tongue. Then he hitched my leg over his side, and guided his cock to my entrance. I could see the wild inside of him, waiting to bust free. I refrained from clamping my eyes shut. I didn't want him to think that I was scared of him, because I trusted this man. I knew that he wasn't going to hurt me.

"Shit." He swore. I knew why. I could feel how tight it was as he broke through my walls. His large cock adjusting my insides. His hand dug into my hip, pulling me closer to him. We were already close, our bodies slick with sweat, tightly pressed against another. But it wasn't enough. Dean needed me closer.

I cried out in pain, I couldn't help it. Feeling all of him inside of me at once was almost unbearable. Dean paused, allowing me time to adjust. He threaded his hands with mine, pinning them behind my head, bringing us even closer as we rode out the pause. He pulled out slowly, causing me to whimper, and delved back into once more.

The pace had began shifting; faster and faster, and I could feel my body reacting. The was no more pain, only pleasure. A deep, rumbling pleasure inside of me that made my insides do flips. I called out his name and every other profanity in the book, until that raw explosion came close to erupting again.

Dean was close, waiting for me to finish before he was able to bask in his own pleasure.

The stars formed in my eyes as his name tumbled from my lips like a prayer.

I was trembling. The warm, fluid like sensation washed over me like a stepping into a hot bath.

Dean's breathing was heavy in my ear as he reached the edge of his climax. His chest was heaving, beads of sweat culminated on his forehead causing his hair to stick to his skin. I reached my hand up, moving the hair from his face to get a good look at those bright, sky blue eyes. I was still panting, he was out of breath, but the moment couldn't have been any more perfect.

"Best birthday ever." I blurted.

Dean let out a breathy laugh. "It's not over yet." He told me, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. "I still have a gift for you."

"That wasn't it?" What else could he have that would top that?

He propped himself up and slid off of the bed. "Wait here." He warned as he casually walked out of the room, not even bothering to put on any clothes. I giggled as I scoped his backside.

After a few moments, I heard the soft sounds of Otis Redding coming from the living room. I wrapped the sheet around my body, and made my way to the door. I peaked out of his bedroom and down the hallway, confused.

What was he up to?

"Dean?" I asked as I walked out into the living room. I saw that he had managed to find a pair of boxers. Dean stood in the middle of the room, lazy smile on his face. "What are you doing?"

My eyes darted to the coffee table. On it sat a record player, but not just any record player, it was my father's. It looked almost brand new. I gasped, holding my hands over my mouth as tears came to my eyes.

"I had it fixed for you." He said as his arms wrapped around me. "What good is a record player without some Otis? I know you love him. I would always hear you singing him in the morning when you first moved in across the hall."

"Dean," I said. It was all I could say.

I turned to face him. He was looking down at me with those eyes, and that smile, and that dimple. I couldn't believe he had done this for me. He knew how much it meant to me, and he had it fixed. I was at a complete loss for words.

"Happy birthday, Callie."