Page 77 of Branded
And now…
He’d carried me to bed at some point, I’d lost my top again, he’d lost his, and?—
“Oh fuck,” I breathed, back arching, his hands all over me, his mouth finding my nipples, his hand reaching down between us and flicking open my jeans.
Yes.
I wanted that.
But also, he’d done all the touching so far.
I wanted to get my hands, my mouth on him.
So, I snagged his hand, drew it back up to my breast, and rolled into him. He was so big that I wouldn’t have been able to move him like that if he hadn’t let me, and the heated grin he sent my way when I ended up on top of him, told me why.
“Fuck, I love these,” he muttered, reaching for my breasts again, massaging them, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples, sending liquid desire between my legs, shivers dancing along my spine, need coiling in my belly.
“I love this,” I murmured, stroking my hands down his chest. Big muscles, a light covering of hair, flat abs, and biceps that bulged as he worked my breasts.
Distracting me.
But I was on a mission.
And that mission was getting to touch the monster in his pants.
A stroke of his thumb along either side of my mouth. “Why you smiling, little bird?”
“I’m excited”—I shifted, tugged the waistband of his sweats—“that I finally get to feel this.”
Now he was smiling. “You’ve already felt it.”
Heat washing over me. My pussy convulsing, feeling all too empty. But I was a woman on a mission, and that mission was getting my hands and mouth on his cock.
His cock sprang free.
And yeah, it was even more gorgeous up close.
Standing hard and stiff and thick, veins pulsing along the sides, a bead of moisture on the tip. “Well,” I murmured, dragging the flat of my tongue along his shaft, “I want to feel more of it.” And then I sucked him into my mouth.
I hadn’t done much of this, felt like I was fumbling, especially when I couldn’t get much of him in without feeling like I was choking.
But he didn’t seem to care.
“Fuck, little bird,” he murmured, hips flexing, hands coming to my head, fingers weaving into the strands of my hair. He didn’t push down, was just touching me, staying connected to me. “Yes, oh my God, Kailey. That’s really fucking good. Yeah, your tongue, flick your”—his hands flexed—“fuck, right there, honey. Right?—”
He pulled me off, flipped me over, moving me like I weighed nothing.
Then his mouth was on mine, his tongue moving deep, his hands tracing up and down my sides, teasing my breasts before heading down, opening my jeans again.
Under my panties.
A warm hand on my pussy.
Finding my clit without a searchlight, pressing it hard, rocking it back and further.
“Oh fuck,” I breathed.
But some part of me didn’t want to find this alone. I wanted this with him. So, I managed to reach between us, to grip his cock and start stroking it in a rhythm that matched what he was doing between my legs.
