Then his thumb halts its calming designs along my wrist.

My security blanket is gone. My way out has turned to dust.

And I hardly notice.

I don’t even care because I’m so wrapped up in all of the strange, powerful feelings coursing through me, swallowing me whole.

Dean trails his hand up my arm and cradles my neck, pulling back from my mouth to find my eyes again. He doesn’t want to give me an escape this time. He wants me to be here, in this moment, with him. My breathing is heavy as tiny sounds crawl up my throat with each hard thrust of his cock. I want to reach for him. I want to touch him like he’s touching me. I want to feel his skin beneath my fingertips, assuring me he’s real.

I’m not alone. I’m not alone.

Dean’s hand disappears from my neck and falls between us, and I almost choke on a gasp when I realize what he’s doing. The thumb that has been tracing my wrist, giving me comfort, is now pressed up against my clit, massaging me as our bodies crash together. His eyes don’t leave mine. My eyes don’t leave his. We’re locked together, something silent and unspoken but all-consuming passing between us.

It doesn’t take long before the telltale sparks begin to scatter and climb, an orgasm building. My breath hitches with tiny gasps and whimpers, and my God, the look on Dean’s face when he realizes what’s happening—when he realizes I’m going to come…

Shock. Disbelief.

The space between his eyes creases, his brows furrowing, his pupils dilating. His gaze is wide and full of something I can’t even begin to unravel.

And then I feel myself peaking, bursting, so he kisses me, devouring my moan with his mouth and plunging into me three more times before his own orgasm takes over. He lets out a primal groan, shuddering and digging his fingers into the underside of my thigh as he comes.

And then it’s over.

We both come down, our lips and teeth pressed together, our breathing low and heavy. Dean’s grip on me loosens, and my legs fall from his hips. I’m absolutely terrified to look at him, partially disgusted by what just transpired, but mostly confused. I duck my head the moment our mouths separate, forcing back the hot tears of shame.

What the hell was that?

A slow clap rings out beside us, echoing right through me, and I realize I had forgotten he was even there.

“Well done. My little playthings put on quite the show,” Earl sneers, a gurgling laugh erupting from him.

Dean quickly pulls out of me, and I can see that his chin is to his chest as he steps backwards. He can’t look at me either. He’s shuffling with his pants when Earl lurches forward and pushes him to the opposite corner with the barrel of the gun.

“Intermission time,” Earl says as Dean pulls up his zipper.

“Fuck you… you vile, filthy, inhumane piece of shit.”