Page 23 of Code Name: Michelangelo

He let go of my waist, but took my hand and led me to the elevator, where he repeatedly pressed the call button.

“I don’t think it makes it come any faster.”

His arm went around my waist again, and he jerked me against him. “I implore you to refrain from making any references that could possibly be construed as sexual. The thread by which I’m hanging onto my constraint is about to break.”

We heard the ding and moved to the side to let the other guests exit. When we stepped on alone, Brand hit the button to close the door several times like he had the call button. As it finally shut, he spun around and pressed me against the back wall.

Brand’s frenzied excitement heated my blood and drenched my panties. With one hand, he grasped my wrists and held them. With the other, he reached under my sweater, pushed it out of his way, and cupped my breast. When he pinched the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, I hissed and arched my back, trying to align my pussy with his rigidity.

All too soon, the elevator came to a stop. I checked, relieved to see it was on our floor rather than another, where we’d no longer be alone once the door opened.

“God, Pen,” Brand said, kissing me once more before leading me down the hallway to our room.

Once inside, he threw the lock, put his hands back on the hem of my sweater, and raised it over my head.

“Don’t,” he said when I reached behind me to unfasten my bra. “Let me. Allow me the pleasure of experiencing everything I’ve fantasized doing to your body.”

“What about me? Do I get to do the things I’ve fantasized about?”

With a low growl, Brand captured my mouth again with his. Our lips collided with the same level of urgency, the same need for possession as earlier. His tongue pushed its way inside, claiming me in the same way I wanted to claim him.

My clit throbbed when he bent his head and sucked my nipple through the lace of my bra. “Do you like that, Butterfly?” he asked before moving to my other breast.

When I moaned wordlessly, Brand pulled away. I leaned forward to kiss him, but he stepped back. “I need your words. Tell me you like what I’m doing to you.”

“I love it. Please don’t stop.”

He smiled. “That’s better. I want to hear you plead for what you want, Penelope. If you don’t, you might not get it.”

If anyone but Brand had said those words to me, I would’ve pulled away and told him I’d never do that for anything. If he wanted me, it would be by my rules, on my terms.

But with this man, I was ready to fall to my knees, beg him to make me his, and never let me go.

“Please touch me,” I pleaded.

“Where?”

I took his hand and put it between my legs.

“Open your jeans for me.”

I couldn’t think, let alone get my zipper to work. Finally, he took over, pushing them past my bottom and down to my knees. He knelt, bringing my panties lower too, then cupped me.

“God, you are so fucking wet.”

The keyword was fucking, which I wished he’d hurry up and do. “Brand, I need you inside me,” I said, remembering that if I didn’t ask, I might not get what I wanted.

He pushed my jeans to the floor, and I stepped out of them and my flats at the same time. “Spread for me.”

I didn’t hesitate.

“More.”

When I did, he pressed a finger inside me and brushed across my clit with the pad of his thumb.

“Please don’t tease me,” I begged.

In response, he licked through my folds, pressing the tip of his tongue like a finger to my button of nerves. He swirled it, then deepened his thrusts.

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