Page 35 of Brutal Power

He takes my hand from his face and laces his fingers through mine. “Omar holds some stupid kid shit against me, and at this point I don’t think that’ll ever change.”

I want to make him elaborate. He’s so damn stubborn sometimes and likes his little secrets. But he pulls me close and brushes his knuckles across my cheek, and he’s giving me that look again.

The hungry look. The bottomless, intense look. The stare of a starving man that’s too afraid to feast.

Chapter 18

Elena

“You’re going to kiss me again, aren’t you?” I whisper.

His mouth opens. I lick my lips as my heart hammers.

“Thinking about it.”

“But I don’t want this to just be some distraction.”

His fingers brush against the nape of my neck. “Elena, you’re already a distraction. But this is because I want to.”

Then he comes toward me, and I meet him halfway, because I want it too. It’s slow at first, gentle, probing, until it’s not anymore, and his tongue is in my mouth and I’m in his lap, straddling him, how the hell did I get in his lap? And he’s so freaking hard between my legs and his hands grip my ass as I kiss him, so greedy for what he can give me, needing it more than I even realized, and this time I can’t stop, and he doesn’t seem to want to stop either.

“Brody,” I moan as he kisses my neck and pulls off my top. My lips are swollen and I can still taste him.

His eyes stare at my breasts barely covered by a black lacy bra. “Beautiful,” he murmurs and kisses my chest, up my neck, crushes my mouth again.

I moan into him. I grind my hips, feeling him stiffen even more.

“What happened to holding back?” I whisper, panting, forehead against his, because if we don’t stopright now,I know I’m going to keep on going and going and going.

“You need this,” he says, his fingers lacing into my hair, his other hand firm on my ass. “Ineed this.”

“You’re not just trying to distract me?”

“Wife, at this point, I have no coherent thoughts in my head, except for how I can taste you.”

I shiver, grinning. “I like that.”

“Good. I’m fucking overwhelmed by you.” His hand grips my hair harder. “All your fucking questions. The way you bounce around the room and can’t sit still.”

“You hate it.”

“I fuckingloveit, and it drives me crazy.” He bites my lower lip. “I want you to be quiet for ten fucking minutes while I get you off. Is that so much to ask?”

I suck in an excited breath. “Just ten minutes?”

His jaw clenches and his eyes burn with need and frustration. “It was just a goddamn number. Are you going to quit talking now?”

“Shut me up then.”

And he does. He kisses me and turns me around, and his hands start undressing me, and he doesn’t relent. It’s a full-on attack, a force of nature, and it feels so fucking good to be held down and stripped as his mouth does its filthy work kissing my lips, my neck, my breasts. He sucks each nipple, praising my body endlessly, talking for the both of us, and I swear it’s the most he’s ever said to me.

“So fucking wet,” he purrs as one hand glides between my legs. Pleasure bursts in my core. “Look at you, all messy and needy. You’re going to let me lick your little clit until you scream my name, aren’t you?”

“Fuck, Brody, I didn’t know you could talk this much.”

“When it comes to explaining exactly how I want to pleasure your incredible fucking body, I’m a goddamn poet.”

My back arches and I moan as he peels off my panties. I wish I had a snarky comeback, but my brain’s very much gone, replaced by a pulsing ache, one which only he can soothe.

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