Page 35 of My Brother's Bad Best Friend

“You can’t help yourself,” he whispers. “You know it’s wrong, but here you are anyway. This was always going to happen.”

“You’re right. I can’t help it.” I rub my clit faster, his big palm warm and insistent. “I’m weak.”

His hand tightens in my hair again. “You’re not weak.” His eyes flash into mine. “Not at all. You know what you want.”

“What?” I manage, pain in my hair, pleasure between my legs.

“You want to get fucked.” He enunciates each word, delicious and forbidden, his lips against my ear. “You want my long, thick cock between your legs, but you know you can’t. I’m the kind of guy you should avoid.”

“I don’t want to avoid you,” I groan.

“I know. You want to spread your legs, let me suck your clit until you can’t breathe before I fuck your tight, wet cunt. You want to come begging my name, pressing your tits together. You want to watch as I finish on your chest and stomach in big, long ropes.”

I’m going faster, moaning, nodding my head in response to him, eyes shut to picture it. I can’t stop now, I’ve come way too far, taken this to a point I should’ve avoided. I’m groaning as my fingers slide inside of me and back up to my clit, his hand on top of mine the whole time.

“You want to taste my come in the back of your throat,” he whispers. “You want to slowly lower yourself on my cock, your legs tense, your back muscles tightening as my cock fills you to your brim, making your head toss back, a low moan escaping your lips.”

I groan at the image, at the thought of him filling me.

“Just like that,” he whispers. “You want it like that. Now, faster, you filthy girl. I want to hear you come. Don’t fucking hold back.”

I’m rubbing faster, pleasure moving through my body, and I know I’m so close. I moan freely now, not holding back at all.

“You know it’s fucked up, but it’s what you like, isn’t it? I’ll lick your tight asshole, your delicious little pussy, and fuck your cunt rough and deep, one hand on your throat, the other on your clit. I’ll get you off, but only after you beg. Now keep going, you filthy fucking girl.”

I gasp and I know I’m about to come. My whole body tenses, teetering on the edge.

That’s when he kisses me. His lips press hard against mine, and it’s what I need. He tips me over the edge and into an orgasm. I moan into this mouth, his taste flooding my tongue as I come hard, my body twitching and spasming, gasps and moans escaping my lips. Every shitty thing that’s happened to me lately disappears in a blissful wave of intense and pure pleasure, washing it all away, making me clean again.

Slowly, the orgasm passes. I kiss him back as his hand in my hair loosens and releases. He helps me pull my shorts back up, pulling away, leaving me flushed and breathing hard against the back of the couch.

He walks into the kitchen, picks up his glass of wine, and downs it in two big gulps.

“Fuck,” he whispers, shaking his head. “You’re going to get both of us in a lot of trouble.”

“I’m already in trouble,” I say. “And I hear you’re not afraid of that.”

He looks back at me and grins. “You’re goddamn right I’m not afraid.”

The doorknob suddenly turns. There’s the sound of keys in the lock, some cursing, and after a second it pushes open. Ezra stumbles into the room, eyes wide, brow sweating.

We both freeze as Ezra darts a look between us. His eyes narrow into a suspicious stare as I cross my arms over my chest, trying to avoid his gaze but not wanting to look any more suspicious than I already am. I hope Ezra is too messed up to notice the vibe in the room right now.

“You look like shit,” Jonas says, cutting into the thick silence.

Ezra grunts, looking away, and the moment passes. I turn and get into my little nest to try and hide my flushed, post-orgasm face from my brother. That was so fucking close. My heart’s hammering in my chest, and I look up at Jonas, but he doesn’t glance back at me.

“We need to talk,” Jonas says to Ezra.

“Later.” Ezra walks past him. “I’m just here to get changed.” I watch as Ezra disappears upstairs, followed by a clearly annoyed Jonas.

“It’s important,” Jonas says as he stomps up after Ezra.

I groan and collapse backwards, covering my face with a pillow. The guys disappear though I can hear their voices still drifting down the staircase. I can’t make anything out, but I can guess the general idea. Their tones get raised a little bit but stop suddenly as Ezra comes storming back downstairs wearing a clean shirt and jeans.

“I’m going out,” he grumbles at me. “Got a problem with that?”

“No,” I say, blinking at him. “Have fun.”

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