Page 51 of Braving the Storm
Briar isn’t mine.
She fucking should be, but it’s impossible.
There’s no way a girl as beautiful and clever as her would throw her future away for a man who, to the outside world, is her own uncle. No one cares about details like adoption or that we hardly know each other.
Headlines only love a scandal, and my name has already had too much bullshit attached to it once before. It took everything Erik had in his media connections to make that shitstorm disappear and vanish without a trace before anyone heard anything, not because he cared about his own adopted brother, but all in an effort to safeguard the Lane Enterprises name.
Yet, the rumors still flew around.
Small towns still talk.
One sniff of another family scandal featuring the last nameLaneis all it would take, and everything would end in disaster. I don’t care about my reputation; I don’t give a fuck what people say about Stôrmand Lane, they’ve already said and assumed the worst.
What I do care about is the girl with soft chestnut eyes, the kind that have the power to melt my entire fucking soul with just one glance.
I care about her too fucking much, and I can’t seem to turn it off.
With fingers threaded through my hair, I stare down at the evidence presenting itself in my lap.
My cock is pressed hard against the front of my jeans, all from thinking about her. The breathiness in her voice last night when she admitted how she hadn’t had much experience—we bothknew she wasn’t talking about learning to drive. Then, that moment when her teeth caught the fullness of her bottom lip, followed by her head dropping back against my shoulder.
That, right there, was the second I knew I was fucking done for.
Glaring at my cock, the asshole throbs, desperate to be relieved of that pressure building and building. I let out a heavy sigh, and with a guilt-laden glance around—even though I’m parked outside my own fucking place in the middle of nowhere—I lift my hips and unbuckle my belt. Shame and urgency collide as I flick the button, lower my zipper, and allow my length to bob against my stomach when I shove my briefs down just enough for what needs to happen. My filthy fucking brain demands that I deal with the obsession I have over this girl right this second.
This is an all too familiar scene. Only last night, it was hidden away as I sat parked here in this very same spot, fisting my dick and jerking myself off. That clearly wasn’t enough to satisfy the urge. There’s a need I can’t quench, and I can’t explain, and the more I try to stop thinking about my pretty little niece, the worse it gets.
With a growl, I spit in my palm. As my fingers wrap around my length and I start stroking from root to tip, my balls are already hot and tight, drawn up and ready for another round of fantasizing about someone I have absolutely no business looking twice at.
Straight to hell.
Because a flood of all the sensations from last night arrive at once, as if I’m right back there. Only this time, my hands explore freely. The beautiful girl grinding in my lap is panting and begging for me to touch her, to fuck her. And I’m sure as hell not a good enough man to say no.
Not when it would deny her what she needs.
In my sordid imagination, Briar writhes as I unbutton her jeans and slip my hand down the front, exploring just how soft and drenched her sweet little cunt is.
Please, Uncle Storm.
She begs me so politely in that raspy, sultry voice. Andit takes nothing at all to slip a single finger inside her tight, wet heat. My fist tightens around my dick as I squeeze my eyes closed and tug harder. Curses tumble out of me as it’s so vivid, I can hear her moans and feel the way she squirms and submits to me. Her pussy flutters as I finger fuck her right here in my truck.
Let me taste you.
She whimpers and asks so nicely. I let go, and the good girl Briar is, she’s kneeling over me, swallowing me down, and the noise that escapes me is guttural.
Heat builds at the base of my spine. I feel the wetness and warmth of her mouth. The plush glide of her lips mimics every movement of my fist, and it’s the moment I imagine her throat closing around my tip that my balls tighten and my stomach clenches.
Cum spurts out, coating my fist, as I feel every shameful pump of release. The pulse thundering in my ears comes in time with the rocking of my hips as I chase the sensation, and wrestle with erratic breaths.
All the blood in my body is in my dick, and my every thought is of her. I feel like I can even scent her, hear her whimpering with pleasure as she runs her tongue along my length to clean me up.
She’s my perfect forbidden fantasy.
Holy fuck, I can hardly see straight.
I’ve just made a goddamn mess, and it takes me another few moments to get my shit together. I glare at my dick and the sticky mess I’ve made, and have to tug my t-shirt over my head in order to clean myself up.
The threat of being caught out here with a situation I absolutely cannot explain is enough to get me moving. Slamming the door behind me, I head straight inside to shower. As if running scalding hot water all over myself will absolve me of my sins.
