Page 33 of Baby For My Ex's Brother

The possessive surge within me swells, a primal claim that she's mine in ways her body is only just beginning to understand. My mind races with a question I can't voice, a dark curiosity about my brother—did he ever make her shatter like this? But the answer is etched in every tremble of her flesh…

Chris never touched her soul the way I do.

"Shiloh," I whisper, my voice laced with a raw edge as I stand, bending to bring my lips to her ear. My fingers are still inside her, thrusting slowly and steadily. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Her breath hitches, a sharp intake that tells me she's felt the shift, the deepening of our connection. "Yes," she replies, her voice thick with desire and a hint of awe at the enormity of what we're doing. "So badly, Liam. It's all I've wanted... all I've thought about for days."

"Then strip," I command, the word falling between us like a gauntlet.

She scrambles to obey, her movements fevered and clumsy with need as she peels away her clothes, revealing the softness of her skin that I've only dared imagine until now. I mirror heractions, my own attire discarded carelessly onto the floor. She starts to turn, but I stop her, my hand on her back.

"Keep your hands on the bed," I order, my voice low but unwavering. It’s a lifeline to sanity, because if I dare to look into those eyes, I might just drown in the sea of emotions they reflect, might say things that can't be taken back.

She obeys, her fingers gripping the blankets, knuckles white. The sight of her submission, the trust she places in me—it’s intoxicating. I drag my hand down her spine, a trail of fire in its wake, as I position myself behind her. Her body trembles with anticipation, and I can feel the heat radiating from her core.

I align myself with her, my heart pounding against my ribs with a ferocity that threatens to break me apart. This is more than lust; it's a claim, an affirmation of what's been building between us for years.

And as I brace myself at the precipice of crossing that final line, I know without a doubt that there's no turning back from this moment.

"Shiloh..." My voice is a ragged growl, filled with all the emotion I've kept caged. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she breathes out, the word barely a sound yet echoing like thunder in the charged silence. "I’m ready, Liam..."

"Shiloh," I groan as I finally give in to the temptation I've been fighting for too long. I sink into her warmth, and the world narrows down to the sound of our mingled breaths and the connection that binds us so completely.

Her back arches, a silent scream of pleasure that punches the air from my lungs. She begs for more, for me, and I can't help but give her everything she asks for. My hands tighten on her hips, not to control or to possess, but to anchor myself in this storm of sensation.

"God, you're incredible," I manage, my voice coming out strained as I watch her hands clutch at the blankets, her longblonde hair tumbling over her shoulder. It's the raw beauty of her abandonment, the way she trusts me to take her apart and put her back together, that unravels me.

Never have I seen anything more beautiful than Shiloh in this moment, never felt anything more right than being inside her.

A rhythm takes over, primal and insistent. It builds quickly, each thrust driving us closer to the edge. I've wanted Shiloh for what feels like forever, the need growing sharper with each passing day she's worked for me. Now, it feels like I'm losing control, that all-consuming desire threatening to consume me whole.

"Fuck..." The curse slips from my lips as I feel her clench around me. Without thinking, my hand comes down on her ass, a sharp smack that fills the room. She gasps, her body tightening even more, and a feral part of me awakens, hungry and unstoppable.

I can't hold back, don't want to ever stop. The idea of a life without this—without her—is unthinkable. I slap her ass again, each strike bringing forth a delicious response from both of us.

"You're mine, sweetheart," I pant, every muscle in my body straining toward the inevitable climax. “My obedient little slut… fucking perfect.”

The truth is, I don't just want her now—I want her always. I want to wake up to her tangled in my sheets, come home to her laughter, and drown in her passion night after night.

This isn't just lust; it's something deeper, something that's been brewing inside me since the moment I laid eyes on her two years ago.

"Fuck, Shiloh..." My voice is a hoarse whisper, my body moving with a fervor that matches the pounding of my heart. I'm close, so damn close to spilling myself inside her, marking her as mine in the most primal way possible.

I lean down, my breath hot against her ear. "You’re so beautiful bent over and screaming for me," I rasp out, the words barely resembling my usual controlled demeanor. I'm lost in the sensation of her, the tight warmth of her enveloping me. "Your pussy... it's perfect. God, you’re squeezing me so damn tight."

Her strangled cry is my undoing. With a surge of desire that borders on desperation, I reach around to touch her breasts.

The moment my fingers graze her skin, a jolt shoots through me. It's as if I've touched a live wire, the connection sparking an electric charge that consumes me completely.

These are the tits I've fantasized about, the ones I've barely allowed myself to think about for fear of crossing a line from which there was no return.

And it's that electric touch, that forbidden caress, which sends Shiloh tumbling over the edge. Her body clenches around me in waves, pulling me into the eye of her storm. I can't hold back any longer.

"Shiloh!" I groan, my voice raw with emotion as I bury myself deep inside her, surrendering to the intensity of the moment. I spill into her, a heat that marks every inch of her inner walls with my presence, a claim that's as instinctual as it is reckless.

As I collapse against her, my chest heaving, I'm hit with the weight of what we've done. It's a mistake—one that could upend our lives and send ripples through relationships already hanging by a thread. But as I press my face into the curve of her neck, breathing in the scent of sugar and sex, I can't fathom how something so wrong feels so damn right.

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