Page 71 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

He wantsme.

Bronson reaches up, his palm crawling blindly along my belly. He palms my breasts and squeezes. I tingle with rekindled passion. I moan, the image of him eating me out and fondling my body sparking a new wave in my core. It tingles even sharper when he groans, his tongue burrowing deep inside, his hips gently humping the bed. I moan with him, reaching down to curl my fingers through his hair. He pinches my nipple in response, making me moan louder.

“Bronson,” I gasp, locked in place on the bed.

Still, a final, lingering thought remains.

It’s never happened for me before.

Do I really think it’ll happen now?

But before the thoughts even take shape, the building tension in me tightens even more. One more firm lick is all it takes to push me over the edge.

I come, my entire body releasing at once. My back arches, and Bronson shifts with me, refusing to let up. His tongue works me over as I ride the storm, my core pushing against his nose. He curls his arms around my thighs, locking us together as I squirm, the pleasure climbing to near unbearable levels.

Still, I moan for more.

I moan for Bronson.

Holy crap, Bronson.

He chuckles and I realize I said that out loud. “You’re welcome,” he says, his arms still latched around my legs.

I hum in response, closing my eyes and feeling every inch of my body shiver with ecstasy. “Yes.” I sigh. “Thank you.”

He leaves sweet kisses on me; his lips tapping lightly against my mound, my swollen lips, and my wet inner thighs. Each peck is like a sudden snap of a rubber band, making me jolt beneath him. Every part of me sings, every nerve so sensitive. I run my fingers through his hair again, wondering if I should push him away, but his touch, his kiss, still feels too good.

As my pulse settles and my breathing returns to normal, I look down at Bronson and catch a glint of mischief in his eyes. “What?” I ask, nervously.

He doesn’t reply. Instead, he kisses my tender clit again and presents his tongue. I flinch as it draws circles, but the sharp sensitivity has faded, leaving nothing but a dull ache that’s moments away from pleasure.

“You have,” he says, smothered, “the hottest O-face I’veeverseen.”

I laugh to question it; the sound turning into a moan halfway through as he plunges his tongue inside me again.

Pleasure moves faster through me this time, and it’s not long before I feel that familiar clench in my core.

“Bronson,” I say, gasping as a second orgasm rips through me.“Stop?—!”

He obeys, his eyes locked on my face. But he stays with me, his arms slowly unwrapping from my legs as I stop shaking.

“Are you okay?” he asks after a minute.

I laugh, running my fingers through his hair. “Yes,” I answer.

He kisses up my body, pausing at my breasts to give them one last playful squeeze, before he rolls over onto his back next to me.

I go limp, my arms and legs humming softly as my chest rises and falls. Bronson lies still as well, his powerful hands resting on his abs. Further down, I see the stain on his sweatpants and I can’t stop my grin.

“Do you need to clean up?” I ask.

Bronson raises his head and looks down. “Maybe,” he mutters. He sits up and pushes his pants down, quickly wiping himself off before tossing them to the floor.

“Old pants?” I ask.

“No, these are new, but...” He shrugs as he settles down again next to me, buck naked. “Whatever.”

I chuckle. “Yeah. Whatever.”

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