Page 89 of The Rowdy Ones
I thread my fingers through Rowdy’s thick hair, whimpering when he pops off one boob to seek out the other one. The chill in the air kisses my wet flesh and my breast aches at having been abandoned. Since his palms are now kneading my ass, dragging me back and forth along the length of his cock, I take matters into my own hands. I tug at my nipple the way he’d done with his teeth.
He smacks my hand away. “Mine.”
I burst out laughing and then he grins against my breast. It reminds me of when I was a little kid. Back then, Rowdy was fun and silly and always getting into trouble. He lost that part of himself when he went to live here that first time. He came back haunted and broken.
Maybe, like me, he’s uncovering little morsels of happiness that are hiding deep beneath the pain. I like that we’re finding it together.
He flips me until I’m on my back and then he sits up. Rowdy doesn’t ask to remove my pants. My brother is no gentleman. Rather, he rips them off as though they’re highly offensive to him. I groan when his fingers roam over my panties. It’s as if he’s appreciating how they look on me.
Can he see the wet spot?
I can feel it. The arousal only he can create within me. It’s soaking my panties. I’m not even ashamed because I know he’ll like it.
He grips onto my thighs and pushes them apart. My pussy feels exposed and open despite still being covered by panties. Then, like he’s a feral animal sniffing out prey, he drags his nose along the wet spot.
“You smell fucking amazing.”
I chew on my lip. “I’m turned on. Can you see?”
He starts licking at the spot, grunting and making ravenous sounds. My body trembles and aches for him to take the stupid panties off. I want his tongue on me and inside me again. He bites at my pussy through the material and teases his tongue along the hem at the apex of my thigh.
I need more.
I grip his hair, jerking him closer. Rubbing his nose in it as though he’s an unruly puppy who got caught doing something bad.
“Rowdy,” I hiss out. “Don’t play with your food. Eat it.”
The growl he makes causes me to giggle. He’s easy to rile up. I love this about him.
Riiiip!
I gasp once I realize this man just tore apart my underwear. If you poke the beast, you’re going to get his claws.
His tongue licks at my hole and then pushes inside my pussy. I love the slippery warm intrusion of it. As he tongue-fucks me, he rubs at my clit with his thumb. Juices from both me and his mouth soak the bed beneath me. And then I feel his finger probing my now slick asshole.
“Rowdy,” I croak out, a sliver of fear cutting through me.
“I’ve had a whole cock in my ass, sweet Dez. You can handle the tip of my finger. Relax.”
It’s hard to imagine Rowdy with anyone besides me. I don’t want to think of him with Evan. He brings me closer and closer to orgasm with his tongue inside and thumb rubbing on the outside. Just when I think I might come, he presses his fingertip into my ass. I cry out at the fiery burn there, clenching in response.
There are too many sensations warring at once, but pleasure steals the show, driving everything else into the background. My orgasm seizes me like a strike of lightning and I jolt as if electrocuted. Ripple after ripple tears through every muscle and nerve ending, gifting me a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes I never get to see. It’s so beautiful, I start to cry.
Rowdy pulls away from me and the bed shifts with movement. I’m afraid he’s leaving me because maybe I’m reacting strangely to getting off. The emptiness makes my chest ache. But then he’s crawling over me, kissing my pussy, then stomach, then breasts, then mouth. I realize he’s now naked and his heavy cock rests against my belly.
We’re really going to do this.
“I’m going to get it all wet first,” he murmurs, voice thick with need, “by rubbing it against your soaked cunt. You’re so messy, sweet Dez.”
It feels good as he slides his smooth, hard length along my slit and between my pussy lips. He fondles my clit using the tip of his cock. Bursts of pleasure pulsate from the teasing. Then he slides it back down.
If I thought he would ease into me gently and full of worry about hurting me, I was mistaken.
My brother thrusts hard, driving every thick, long inch of his cock deep inside my slippery body. It stretches and bruises. I scream, but his hand quickly clamps down on my mouth, silencing me.
“Quiet,” he croons. “We can’t fuck if everyone wakes up.”
I nod, wanting his mouth instead of his hand. As if inside my brain, he moves his hand and crashes his lips to mine. I’m desperate for his kisses, tugging at his messy hair and digging my heels into the backs of his thighs. He bucks into me hard and like he’s unable to control himself. It hurts, but it’s also the most intensely wonderful thing I’ve ever experienced. Whenever I whimper or cry out, he smothers it with a claiming kiss that soothes my soul.
