Page 331 of Branded
This was not the time to rip off her clothes and fuck her.
Uncertainty crept into her eyes, and that had me uttering fuck again—though this time it was only in my head because I wasn’t frustrated with Jules, wasn’t angry or pissed off at all. What I was…well, I was fighting for control and my woman was sexy as shit and…I repeated, I was fighting for control.
Thankfully, I summoned a modicum of it.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” I murmured, bracing myself up on one hand and tracing up her side with my other, loving that she shivered, her body melting with just that touch, her back arching, hips bucking against me.
Strip her naked.
Fuck her fast and furious.
But she deserved more.
More dredges of control being summoned, and I managed to give her more, bending and kissing her until my lungs screamed for air, until her arms and legs had wrapped around me, and she was grinding against my dick. That was dangerous. Especially as her moans kept coming, and she continued to rub against me. I dragged my mouth along her jaw, kissed my way down her throat, traced my tongue along her delicate collarbones.
“Cas,” she moaned.
“Yeah, gorgeous?”
Her fingers in my hair, holding her against me.
“Cas.” Another moan.
“I like the way you say my name,” I muttered, nipping her collarbone, palming her breasts, running my thumbs over her nipples, and then, needing skin, reaching for the hem of her CeCe’s-branded shirt and tugging it off over her head.
Pretty.
So fucking pretty.
No.
Gorgeous.
“Fuck,” I whispered, mouth watering. “You are so fucking beautiful.”
She inhaled sharply, breasts jiggling in her plain cotton bra that barely contained her breasts. Not lace and satin, but utilitarian and simple…and still the sexiest piece of clothing I’d ever been lucky enough to lay eyes on. “Cas.”
I bent, pressed a kiss to the spot between her breasts, running my tongue over one plump globe and then the other. When she inhaled again, hips rolling needily against me, I tugged one cup down and—hell—my cock jerked hard. A puffy pink nipple, just begging for my mouth. “So fucking beautiful,” I whispered, flicking out my tongue, dragging it around the sensitive peak, watching it tighten in response. Then I took that hardened bud into my mouth, gently at first, and when her hips jerked and her hands came to my hair, winding firmly through the strands again, holding me tighter against her, I drew harder and deeper.
“Cas!” Her fingers tightened almost painfully, but she could rip it the fuck out for all I cared because the feel of her in my mouth, on my tongue, my lips, made that small pain worth it. So much so that I kissed my way to her other breast, yanked that side of her bra down, and gave her other nipple the same treatment.
Her moans were music to my ears.
Her body was the stuff of dreams.
Her there with me right then, allowing me to touch her, to be in this bed?—
That was every-fucking-thing.
I kissed the underside of her breasts, shifted down further, nipping at her ribs, at her hip bones. My hands curved over her belly, tracing the faint marks there, the ones that proclaimed to the world that she’d helped to create something wonderful, that she’d carried her son, protected him in her body.
And then I was moving lower, circling the faint indent of her belly button, allowing my mouth to drift toward the button of her jeans.
She inhaled sharply when I flicked it open, when I started dragging the tag of her zipper down, so I paused, glanced up at her.
But her eyes told me that had been a good inhalation, a good reaction.
Okay then.
