Page 15 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

“Yes,” I say, shaking to the core.

“How does it feel to have my cock inside of you?”

I don’t answer. I moan, hoping that’s a good enough answer.

“Jordan,”he says, pressing harder against my clit, his hips rolling as he fucks me. “How does it feel?”

“Good!” I say, throwing my head back. “You feel so good.”

“Are you going to come for me?” he asks, so smooth. “I want to feel that pussyclench.”

I whimper, the pleasure almost too much. “Bronson.”

“Come for me, Jordan. Let me feel it.”

Another thrust, another rub, and every part of me releases at once. Every muscle tightens in climax, only to instantly turn to jelly.

And Bronson keeps fucking me.

“Yes,” he growls, his cock still so deep. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

I open my eyes, catching my breath. I look at him over me, his body so perfect, his cock still buried in me. His eyes, full of desire, lock on mine questionably, silently asking if I want more.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Don’t stop. Please.”

Bronson smirks.

Then, he pulls out.

Before I can protest, he takes hold of his cock again and teases it along my slit. “You want more?” he asks.

I twitch, so sensitive. “Yes.”

“Do you want to come again?” he asks as he pushes the tip against my entrance, only to pull it away again.

“Yes,” I moan. “Please.”

Bronson drops it and extends his hand. “Come here.”

I helplessly flop my hand onto his, and he pulls me up. He sits back on the bed, his strong hands holding me up on him. Those animal instincts take over again. Already missing the feel of him inside of me, I lower myself onto his cock.

He digs his fingers into my sides as he performs upward thrusts. I balance myself, tightening my core as I feel my pussy clench around him. I moan as he groans, our breaths coming faster.

“Bronson,” I moan, so close again.

He moves his hands to my breasts, purposefully tweaking my nipples, and I shudder with pleasure. I meet his thrusts, every thick inch of him working to make me come again.

When I do, I gasp and hold my breath, the rocking waves of orgasm threatening to knock me over. But Bronson holds on. His arms curl around me. He buries his face in my breasts, and grunts. His thrusts come to a slow stop, his cock pulsing with release inside of me.

Still holding me, Bronson lies back onto the bed. I collapse against him, our skin slick with sweat. His heart pounds hard against my ear. Our quick breaths grow slower, shallower.

We don’t say a word.

I’m too relaxed. Too weak to speak or even move. I let myself rest, cradled in his arms. When I think he’s fallen asleep, I feel his fingers trace a line along the side of my face, pushing my sweat-damp hair back behind my ear.

“Jordan?” he says. “Are you okay?”

I smile, but I don’t move. “Yes. Keep doing that, please.”

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