Page 57 of The Wrong Brother

I shudder as his hand moves between my thighs, his fingers grazing over the slick heat there. The touch is light at first, exploratory, but when I gasp, his movements grow bolder. His fingers stroke me, finding the rhythm of my breath and the tilt of my hips as I press into his touch.

“God, you’re perfect,” he mutters, his voice low and reverent, and the words unravel me completely. I clutch at his shoulders, my nails digging into the firm muscle as waves of pleasure course through me. His fingers move with precision, his other hand sliding up to cradle the small of my back, steadying me as my knees threaten to buckle.

I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel him…his touch, his heat, the way he’s learning every inch of me as though it’s a language he was born to speak. My hands move instinctively, trailing down the hard planes of his chest, over the ridges of his abdomen, and lower still. When I wrap my fingers around him, his breath hitches, and for a moment, he stills.

Our eyes lock and the raw intensity there leaves me trembling. I stroke him slowly, savoring the weight of him in my hand, the way his body reacts to my touch. His head falls back slightly,a guttural sound escaping his lips, and the pure, unrestrained response sends a thrill coursing through me.

When he looks back at me, his eyes are darker than before, the storm inside them matching the one in my chest. Without a word, he lifts me effortlessly, guiding me toward the bed, his lips brushing against my shoulder, my collarbone, every inch of skin he can reach as he lays me down. The cool sheets meet my back, but his weight soon replaces the chill, blanketing me in warmth as he covers me completely.

Zack leans over me, his body is a masterpiece of strength and precision, yet somehow soft in the way it molds perfectly to mine. His weight grounds me, and the heat of his skin against mine sets every nerve alight. His eyes search mine, a question lingering there…an unspoken need for permission or reassurance. I answer by wrapping my legs around his hips, drawing him closer.

He dips his head, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that steals what little breath I have left. It’s slow at first, exploratory, but soon deepens, his tongue sweeping against mine in a rhythm that makes my toes curl. His hand trails upward, finding my breast again, his palm warm and firm as he squeezes gently. His thumb brushes over my nipple, teasing it into a hardened peak, and a soft moan escapes me before I can stop it.

“Jenny,” he murmurs against my lips, my name a prayer on his tongue. His mouth moves lower, his kisses trailing down my neck, over the curve of my shoulder, and along the swell of my breast. When he takes my nipple into his mouth, histongue swirling around the sensitive peak, I arch into him, a gasp slipping from my lips. His teeth graze lightly, just enough to send a jolt of pleasure racing through me, and I clutch at his shoulders, needing something to anchor me.

“You’re driving me insane,” I whisper, my voice trembling as his hand moves to my other breast, giving it the same reverent attention. He hums against my skin, the sound low and vibrating through me, and I feel the tension building deep inside me.

His kisses continue their journey downward, slow and deliberate, as if he’s savoring every inch of me. When his lips reach the curve of my hip, he pauses, his hands sliding down my thighs to part them gently. The vulnerability of the moment should terrify me, but the way he looks at me…like I’m something sacred…melts away every ounce of fear.

“Zack…” My voice falters, his name barely more than a whisper as his lips press against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. He doesn’t rush, his mouth teasing, his hands firm yet tender as they hold me open for him. The anticipation coils tightly in my belly, every second stretching endlessly until I feel his breath against me, warm and tantalizing.

When his tongue finally finds my sex, a broken cry escapes my lips. He moves with precision, his strokes slow and deliberate, exploring every inch of me as though he’s learning what makes me come undone. His hands grip my thighs, holding me steady as I writhe beneath him, the pressure building with every flick of his tongue, every gentle suction that sends sparks shooting through me.

“Zack, please…” I’m not even sure what I’m begging for, but the words spill from me anyway, desperate and raw. He responds with a hum, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure through me, and I grip the sheets, my back arching as the tension becomes almost unbearable.

His name falls from my lips like a mantra, over and over, as he takes me higher and higher, his mouth working me with a skill that leaves me breathless. When he slides a finger inside me, curling it just right, the sensation is too much

The stretch is slow and unrelenting, and the heat in my core ignites into a blaze. My hips shift instinctively, seeking him, and he matches my rhythm. I can’t stop the gasp that escapes me, high and needy.

“Is this what you want?” he murmurs, his voice rough, darkened with desire. His free hand comes to rest on my hip, holding me steady as his movements grow rougher, faster, more deliberate.

I’ve never been finger-fucked this way before. I can’t respond, not coherently. My body answers for me, tightening around him, trembling as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. His finger strokes me deeply, each motion slow and deliberate, building a rhythm that has me unraveling, piece by piece. When he adds another, the fullness is almost too much, but it’s exactly what I need. I grip the sheets tighter, a low moan spilling from my lips as my body adjusts, welcoming the sensation.

“Zack,” I manage, my voice breaking on his name. It’s a plea, a thank-you, a prayer, all rolled into one. He watches me, his gaze heavy-lidded and burning with something that feels dangerous,electric. His thumb brushes against my most sensitive spot, adding a pressure that sends a burst of pleasure rocketing through me, and I lose all semblance of control.

“Look at me,” he commands softly, and the weight of his voice pulls me from the haze of sensation. My eyes flutter open, meeting his, and the intensity there steals my breath. His fingers continue their relentless rhythm, and the combination of his touch and his gaze is my undoing. I feel like I’m breaking apart yet somehow being put back together in ways I never thought possible.

“Don’t stop,” I beg, my voice trembling with need. He doesn’t, his pace steady, unrelenting, as he drives me higher. The tension inside me builds, coiling tighter and tighter, until it feels like I might shatter from the sheer pressure of it. My body trembles, my breaths coming faster, shallow and uneven.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, his voice reverent, and his words push me even closer to the edge. His free hand slides up my side, brushing against the swell of my breast, his thumb grazing the peak just as his fingers curl inside me again, hitting a spot that sends white-hot pleasure rippling through me.

I cry out, the sound raw and unrestrained, as the wave crashes over me. My body clenches around him, every muscle tightening as I’m consumed by the intensity of my release. It’s blinding, consuming, a pleasure so sharp it borders on pain, and I cling to him like he’s the only thing anchoring me in the storm.

He doesn’t stop, guiding me through the aftershocks with gentle, precise movements, his touch softening as the tension slowly ebbs away. My body trembles in his arms, utterly spent, yet more alive than I’ve ever felt.

When I finally collapse back onto the bed, my chest heaving with each ragged breath, he rises above me, his fingers glistening with the evidence of my release. His gaze is dark, almost possessive, and when his lips curve into the faintest hint of a smile, I feel the heat pooling in my core again.

“You’re incredible,” he says softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face. His voice carries the weight of truth, and in that moment, I feel seen…fully, completely. And as his lips capture mine in a slow, searing kiss, I realize I never want this moment to end.

Chapter

Thirty-Two

ZACK

Her body jerks beneath me, trembling as if the pleasure still hasn’t fully let her go. I can see it in the way her abdomen contracts in shallow waves, in the soft hitch of her breath. She looks utterly spent, yet radiant, her skin glistening with a sheen of sweat that makes her even more irresistible. I can’t stop myself…I lean down, pressing my lips to her stomach, tasting the salt of her skin as I trail soft kisses along the curve of her hip.

The scent of her surrounds me, sweet and musky and wholly hers. It fills my lungs, and for a moment, I just breathe her in, trying to ground myself in the reality of this moment. I’ve never felt anything like it…like her. She smells like she’s meant to drive me insane.

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