Page 50 of A Taste of Chardonnay

“Come for me,” he said, and I went to laugh at the absurdity. I couldn’t come on demand, but as his words whispered in my ear, my inner muscles tightened. “Fuck, baby.”

He picked up speed again, his finger working my clit, his other rolling my turgid nipple. A fire built inside me, spiraling toward release. Flames raced through my veins, his finger drawing it all to the center, igniting an inferno. My body shook with anticipation. His tongue swiped along the curve of my ear before taking my lobe between his teeth.

The world around me exploded in white as the fire consumed me, rendering me in a pile of limbs. Brady held me up as the tremors rolled through me. As the world came into focus, he spun me around, kissed me hard, and lifted me onto his cock, pounding into me.

Barely able to hold my head up, I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him, nuzzling into the crook. He slammed into me, my body absorbing every delicious thrust.

A groan rumbled up his throat, and I kissed the spot on his neck where his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Fuck,” he bit off, his fingers digging into the flesh of my ass.

I snaked my tongue along the bulging vein leading to his jaw, and his grip tightened even more. Thrusts became harder, faster, until he cried out his release.

We stood there for a moment, me suspended in the air, hanging onto him, him standing with his pants pooled at his feet. I lifted my eyes and they locked on Jack’s. He stared on in what I can only imagine was horror. A laugh slipped from my lips.

“What’s so funny?” Brady asked in between breaths.

“I think we scarred Jack for life.”

He spun around, one hand on my ass, his cock still inside me. “Sorry, buddy.”

Brady’s hand slid up my back, and he lowered me to the floor. My feet hit, but he held me to him, lifting my chin with his finger. He placed a chaste kiss on my lips. “How about that pizza?”

My legs wobbled when I went to walk. Brady caught me, scooping me into his arms and placing me on the stool. “I need my clothes.” I went to get up, and he shook his head.

“I told you. I like you bare.”

“But we’re eating.” I crossed my arms over my chest, but he gently took my wrist and urged it downward.

“Have you never eaten naked before?”

“No.”

“First time for everything.”

“It’s not sanitary.”

“My mouth was just in between your legs while you were spread eagle on your countertop. Are we really going to talk about it not being sanitary?”

My lips parted, then snapped shut. He removed the condom, washed his hands, took the pizza out of the oven, and placed it between us. At least he washed his hands.

“Plates are in the cabinet above the oven.”

He shook his head again and used the pizza cutter to cut it into slices. “We don’t need plates.”

I narrowed my gaze, giving him my best look of intimidation. He didn’t budge.

“Live a little, Char.”

All I could think about were the crumbs on the island. The potential drips of sauce on the countertop. Not that I couldn’t clean it up afterward. And it would be fewer dishes to deal with. I reached for a slice, feeling rebellious and empowered. Before I could let my brain stop me, I took a bite.

“I knew you had it in you,” Brady said.

He extended for a slice, and I slapped his hand. “If I have to be fully naked, so do you. Why is your shirt still on?” I really just wanted to admire his abs, but also I’d feel more comfortable if he was completely bare.

He reached behind him, gripping his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Can I eat now?”

With a smile, I nodded. My eyes lingered on the hard planes of his chest and down to the ridges of his abs. He just gave me a mind-numbing orgasm, but here I was, horny again and ready for round two.

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