Page 98 of My Ex's Brothers

Oh, well.

I squeeze him just the slightest as I lean forward and lick his head. He hisses, sucking in a breath, and his body tenses. “Fuck, Amelia…”

I can’t help but grin as I watch him. He’s so responsive to me it’s insane. I’ve never had a man in my bed so eager before.

Dex knew he was good in bed. He was cocky as hell about it too. And while the sex wasn’t bad at all, he never shuddered at my touch. Never had to hold back.

Dexter Rose took the reins because it’s who he was.

But the man in front of me—who may look an awful lot like him—needs me to take the reins. And I’ve never felt as empowered as I do right now, knowing this delectable man is at my mercy.

I giggle as I stroke him again, slowly. Getting used to the feel of his smooth rigidity in my hand. “You’re not even in my mouth yet, Dane,” I tease him.

His head thuds against the shower wall. “I know, but if you keep touching me and squeezing me, I’m not going to make it into your mouth.”

His words thrill me in a way I don’t expect, and so I start to stroke him faster.

“Amelia…” His breaths are hard, heavy. And suddenly, Richard pops into my brain. Not him, per se, but the orders he gives me. The orders I’m glad to obey. I wonder if Dane would be able to adhere to commands the way I am?

So I clear my throat, my body thrumming with desire and nerves. “You can’t come until I tell you,” I say, testing out the words.

Dane lets out a strangled sound that borders on a whine and a moan. “Baby, I don’t know it I can hold it.”

I stroke him faster, watching as he groans, as his body tenses. His hips thrust forward almost regrettably.

He needs this. The friction. My touch.

To come.

“Not yet,” I say as I flick my tongue out and swipe it over his tip.

He whines. “Please…”

I’ve never had a manbegme before. Hearing Dane like this…it’s…

Well, it’s hotter than I expected it to be.

I suck his head into my mouth and he cries out in agony. “Oh fuck…”

And then I release him, going back to my slow strokes.

“Not yet,” I tell him.

His breaths are hard. “Please…” he begs. “Please let me come…”

My insides twist with heat and desire, and without thinking, I slide my fingers between my legs. I’m wet, and I know it’s not just from the shower. The water isn’t hot anymore. It’s warm. I have a feeling we’re going to be here until it runs cold.

“Not yet,” I tell him. I slide my fingers into my aching center while using my free hand to stroke him. He looks down at me with a hazy gaze of lust.

“Please, baby…” He bites his lip. “I need to. I’m so fucking hard it hurts right now.”

Something about his words only fuels me. I like knowing I do this to him. That I drive him mad with desire.

So I relent. I remove my hand from my core, grasping his cock as I guide him into my mouth slowly. I don’t want to choke and ruin the moment. That would be more than embarrassing. His head bounces off the tile as his hand finds my hair. He gently settles it at the back of my head and slowly thrusts into my mouth.

For a moment, we stay like that, neither of us moving. The only sound is the heavy patter of the shower, the heaviness of our breaths.

“Please make me come, Amelia,” he says, his voice so full of need it’s impossible to resist.

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