Page 5 of Brewbies
She kicked off her pumps and went to work on removing—peeling off?—her dress.
In a world where nudity was commonplace, Ethan figured he’d grown past being stunned by a woman’s body.
Yet here he stood.
Thunderstruck.
Her curves were a testament to sex and desire. Full, enticing hips. Long, toned waist. And those breasts. Fuck him if they didn’t defy description. Hell…they defied the laws of physics. Like gravity.
But it was her eyes that captivated him. They glimmered with a deep, soulful intelligence that stole his breath. She was at once a goddess and a concubine. Proud, bold, and wary as she approached and, without another word, grabbed his shirt, pulling him in for a devastating kiss.
Ethan was overwhelmed with desire as their lips locked together. He clenched his hands tightly around her waist, pulling her against his body until he felt the heat of her skin resonate through him. The kiss ignited something frightening as his tongue greedily explored every inch of her mouth. He’d thought to taste her, but ended up savoring and devouring instead.
Her passionate moans vibrated through him, both savage and submissive.
Closing his eyes in pure delight, he cupped her breasts in his hands. Goddamn, the softness and warmth of her skin undid him. Focusing on her pleasure was the best way to distract him from the overwhelming demand for his own. But as he brushed his thumbs over her nipples, her gasp landed right in his groin.
Their kiss turned almost violent as she ripped off his shirt; the seam of their mouths only broke for her to lift his white tee over his head.
When their mouths clashed again, he plunged his hands into her vibrant, astonishingly silky hair, ruining the intricate style and sending bobby pins plopping to the floor.
She didn’t seem to care. Pulling him closer, she trailed her fingers down his body to his belt buckle and eagerly unfastened it. When his clothes had been ripped from his body and abandoned to the floor, her hands explored his muscles with a hungry groan of appreciation.
“Body like this usually belongs to some lunk or meathead,” she marveled.
“How do you know I’m not?”
A secretive, mischievous expression stole over the delicate features of her face. “I can tell.” She winked at him. “Also, you haven’t called medude,bruh,or babeyet, so I’m impressed.”
That coaxed a laugh, rusty from misuse. “You’re easily impressed.”
“No,” she said, her eyes glinting with an astonishing inner tempest before she pressed the flats of both her hands against the swells of his pecs. “No, I’m not.”
With a surprising burst of strength, she pushed him backward, riding him down until his back hit the bed.
Alarm bells jangled somewhere in the dense gray matter of his brain.
This wasn’t how these things went.Hewas the driver. The initiator. The one in charge of the safety and satisfaction of all involved. There was consent to worry about. And decency. Birth control. STD protec—
Pulling a foil from her bra, she opened it with her teeth and applied it like it was part of a motherfucking striptease.
A surge of masculine satisfaction rose within him at her appreciative moan when she palmed his cock.
She straddled him, her eyes blazing, the scrap of a pink lace thong granting him a barely-there peep show that expelled the last of his sanity.
He fought a tremor in his hands as they roamed her body, tracing the curves of her hips and exploring her warm skin. His longing was palpable in his kisses as his tongue searched for hers. The pleasure built up inside of him as he tested the weight of her breasts before sampling a puckered nipple with his tongue.
Her flavor was unreal. Some amalgamation of pheromones, salt, sweat, and sex that set his every sense on fire.
Her fingers plunged into his hair, long, lacquered nails scoring his scalp, intensifying their connection. She moaned as his fingers explored her, slipping between her legs. He felt her body quiver and watched her eyes close as her breathing quickened.
Slipping through the drenched ruffles of her sex, he tormented the engorged flesh around the little nub of nerves at her core. Hovering. Flicking. Circling. Never landing where she demanded he go. He loved the way she moved with him, pressing herself against him in a desperate search for pleasure. With each stroke of his finger, her heat became more intense as she built toward an orgasmic crescendo.
When he applied the right pressure, she came immediately, her ecstatic sounds driving him to unparalleled levels of lust. Her back arched and she sobbed for more, her lacquered nails digging and releasing the meat of his shoulders like a delighted cat.
In the midst of her climax, Ethan shifted his weight, positioning himself between her thighs and guiding her down on the marble-hard column of his cock.
He’d expected frenzy. Furious, fast fucking.
