Page 28 of Taken By my Brothers' Best Friends

After figuring out why he was good with ropes, the thought was never too far from my mind. I’d never considered BDSM. Because of that, I didn’t have a strong stance either way. Or… I hadn’t had a strong stance. I had a feeling Reed was going to blow my mind wide open. That alone scared me but after the night before with Lennon, I felt ready for the world.

I spent the day on the floor in my room, writing like I had a major deadline hanging over my head. The words flowed like the Mississippi River out of me. I was so motivated that I finished the work I’d planned to tackle in a week in one day.

I didn’t come up for air until dinner. I opened my bedroom door, expecting dinner to be waiting like it had been but there was nothing. Instead, I could see Dean moving around the kitchen, still cooking. They were usually so regimented that them breaking their pattern made me feel uneasy.

“Is everything okay?” I stood across the island from Dean and frowned at the stiff set of his jaw.

“Come around here and stir the sauce.” He barely glanced up at me from chopping his vegetables. “Reed and Lennon ran out to meet with an FBI agent we know. This was the only time the agent could meet.”

“And now you’re cranky because your routine is ruined?” I shot a smile at him over my shoulder as I stirred. “What is this? It smells delicious.”

He surprised me when I looked back at the sauce by pressing into me from behind. He rested his hands on my hips and let out a sound that might’ve been a laugh when I gasped. “It’s an old family recipe. Not my family, but someone’s, I’m sure. And I’m cranky because I got voted to stay behind because I have a lifetime of proving I can withstand temptation and yet, here I am.”

I was terrified to move, afraid he’d move away if I did. “And where are you?”

His hands circled around to my stomach and slowly moved higher, until they were just under my chest. His breath fanned over my neck as he spoke. “Getting caught with my hand in the cookie jar.”

I glanced back at him over my shoulder and went weak in the knees at the sight of hunger in his hazel eyes. “And that’s a bad thing?”

His grin was full of danger and mischief. “Maybe we start lesson two a little early tonight.”

I turned in his arms and nodded. “I’m ready.”

Leaning forward, he trailed his nose up the side of my neck and over my jaw. He only stopped when his mouth hovered just an inch from mine. “You’ve never been kissed.”

I shook my head. “No.”

“It makes sense to me now.” He spun us and walked me backwards until I hit the island. “The first kiss scenes with your couples are always good. They’ve left me hard and aching more than a few times. They’re always gentle, though. You spice things up later on but those first kisses are always sweet and slow.”

I was trying hard not to be offended. “No one complains.”

He smirked and let his knuckles graze over my chest as he worked his hands up to my neck. “You’re writing beautiful, sexy scenes of people kissing. They’re getting to know each other kisses. They’re romantic.”

“And? What do you think they should be?” I frowned up at him, a hard task when he was holding me like I was a twenty-dollar burrito he’d been craving for a month.

“Sometimes that’s fine. Sometimes, though, Hellcat, a first kiss isn’t a first kiss at all, but a prelude to fucking. Sometimes, it’s rough and messy. I’ve just always felt that a woman walking away without my beard etched across her face hasn’t been kissed well enough.” He gripped the sides of my neck and hooked his thumbs under my jaw, using the grip to lift my face to his. “I like a kiss that lets you know what’s coming. Fucking, Vera. Hard, intense, passionate fucking.”

I swallowed and tried to nod but he had control of my head. I whimpered when he turned my head to the side and pressed his mouth to my ear.

“You, Vera? You write sweet but you’re not sweet. You’re fucking hot. Even as a virgin who’s never been kissed, you’re on fucking fire for us. I saw you spread your legs for Lennon last night, saw you fuck yourself for him. Reed stood outside your door, listening to you moan and smelling your dripping pussy through the walls. I fucked my fist and imagined it was your sassy mouth. I came harder than I have in over a decade, Hellcat. That’s not sweet.”

I felt like I should’ve been angry he watched me but it lit a fire in me. His filthy words and barely contained energy had my body humming with life for him. “And what do you want me to do about that?”

His smirk promised my destruction. “What I want and what I’m going to do are two very different things, Hellcat.”

I tipped my mouth a fraction closer to his. “Dean…”

I watched him struggle for control, saw the battle so clearly in his eyes. I also saw the moment he decided to pull away. He ground his teeth together and started to shift away from me but I gripped his face and slid my mouth over his. With a thought ofcross that off my listI kissed him. It wasn’t sweet or romantic. It also wasn’t a prelude to fucking. It was just me, pushing for more and begging him to see I could take more.

Dean fisted my hair and pulled my mouth away. Staring down at me with frustration clear across his face, he growled at me. “I fucking tried.”

I didn’t get to ask him what he meant because he slammed his mouth over mine in what was definitely a prelude to fucking. He bent me backwards as he stroked his tongue past my lips and raked his teeth over my bottom lip. He devoured my mouth, never letting me have any power over the kiss. His beard was rough against my skin but his mouth was velvet and I wanted it all over me. I gripped his sides, twisting his shirt in my fists, and whimpered when he rocked his dick against my lower stomach.

Dean dropped his hands to my ass and picked me up so he could put me on the island. The sound of things falling to the floor didn’t faze either of us and he never moved his mouth from mine. He growled when I wrapped my legs around his waist and cupped my breasts, making me moan.

“Wow.”

Dean pulled away from me at the sound of Lennon’s voice. He swore and glared at the floor. When he did look up at Lennon, he looked guilty. “Where’s Reed?”

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