Page 58 of Branded
He stared.
I quivered, hips jerking.
A hand clamping on my hip again, steadying me.
“Hold still and stay quiet, little bird,” he murmured, and I did—holding my bottom half still against his pelvis, clamping my lips together.
“Good girl,” he murmured before leaning in and repeating the treatment on my other breast.
Slowly, interminably slowly. A stream of air—gentle, then firmer, then closer.
Moving back and forth. Keeping up the blowing, giving me a little, the occasional flick of his tongue. But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t everything. It wasn’t what I needed with an almost clawing anguish that didn’t relent. Not until I was absolutely trembling, sweat sheeting my body, gasps escaping, groans rising out of my throat.
A short, sharp suck that had me jumping.
“Quiet,” he ordered, placing one finger to my mouth. “Or I won’t do it again.”
My chest rose and fell rapidly.
He bent, closed his teeth over one hard peak. “Yeah, little bird?” The words were so close to my skin that they felt like a physical caress, each syllable a damp touch that was sending me up a fragile edge. “Little bird,” he warned.
I nodded, shuddering again when one calloused fingertip ran over my beaded nipple. “Yes,” I whispered. “I’ll stay quiet.”
The smile he gave me was pure fire.
And then, without the least bit of warning, he sucked my nipple deep.
My moan choked me, threatening to escape, but I bit my bottom lip hard, not wanting him to stop, desperate for him to keep going. And he rewarded me for the quiet—cupping my breasts and molding them, lifting one globe and then the other so he could suckle each of them in turn.
It was too much and not enough, and I was desperate…
For something.
For—
“Okay, little bird,” he rasped against my skin. “Give me that mouth and move.”
His hand on my hip shifted, encouraging me to grind against him, and that was exactly what I needed. That pressure, that movement. The man beneath me and his hard cock. His mouth on mine, swallowing my moans. Still worshiping my breasts with one hand while the other arm banded around my waist, keeping me in motion, encouraging me to ride him faster and harder and?—
That swelling of pressure began to coil tighter in my middle, the prerequisite to me flying over the edge.
One I’d never had outside of my own hands or my toys or?—
Thoughts splintered when he tugged me slightly forward, changing the angle and—holy son of a dragon—that was incredible.
Actual sparks of light behind my eyelids and…
Implosion.
Seventeen
Smitty
She’d come for long enough that I seriously thought I was going to explode just from dry humping.
Like a fourteen-year-old boy.
But when I’d nearly reached the point of no return, she’d slowed, her movements going jerky, her forehead dropping to my shoulder, her hot breath on the bare skin of my chest.
