Page 30 of Brood
He’s grunting too. Louder and gruffer than me.
“Will!” I gasp, digging my fingernails into the back of his neck as my body, the room, the entire world, tightens down to my rising need. “Go faster. Harder.”
With a rough sound, his body responds to my demand. He straightens his arms for more leverage and really fucks me hard, his hips rutting.
I cry out as my climax breaks, and he comes right after me, jerking his hips through a few final pushes as he lets out a muffled bellow.
I whimper in pleasure as I feel the spurts of his release filling my pussy. I squeeze my legs around him possessively.
His arms buckle, and the weight of his upper body rests on me. He tucks his face into the crook of my neck.
I unwind my legs as my body relaxes. I’m petting him instead of gripping him now. My hands stroke his shoulders. His back. Then lower to the firm muscles of his buttocks.
He moans long and hoarse. A carnal, sated sound.
For some reason, I love playing with his butt, caressing the cheeks, sliding my fingers along the crack, squeezing the tight flesh.
After a few minutes, he raises his head to give me a curious look.
I giggle. “Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not everyone wants their bottom touched.”
He lets out a sharp burst of sound. Then his whole body shudders with dry laughter. I’ve never heard or seen him laugh like that before.
“Are you laughing at me?” I ask after a minute, more pleased than defensive.
“Of course not. I’m just laughing. But, Cadence, you don’t have to apologize. You can touch me anywhere you want.”
ChapterFive
Amonth later, I wake up in the wrong bed.
Something feels weird—even before I open my eyes. I sit up with a gasp, blinking around the dark room.
My mind hasn’t caught up yet. I should be back in my old quarters with a small, simple bed tucked against the back wall. This room is wrong, and anxiety rises into my throat until I blink through the confusion.
I’m in the right quarters after all. The bigger, fancier one I share with Will now. That’s why the bedroom is separated from the rest of the space by the archway and why the area feels vast. With hidden corners and lofty ceilings.
I am, however, in the wrong bed.
That’s why I’m so disoriented. My bed is positioned without a view to the rest of the suite, but this one is pointed right at the arched entrance to the bedroom.
I didn’t move to my own bed last night after we had sex.
Embarrassed by this oversight, I scoot to the edge of the mattress, but a sharp pang in my vagina startles me as I shift my thighs. With another gasp, I brace myself instinctively.
It’s supposed to be the bed I’m using for support, but it’s actually Will’s stomach I push down on.
He grunts and makes some breathless sounds that prove he’s waking abruptly. I scramble off the bed so he won’t catch me here several hours after the time it’s appropriate, but that jab of pain halts me again.
“Ouch,” Will grumbles. He’s fully awake now. I sense his eyes on me in the dark.
“Sorry. I was trying to get up and didn’t realize you were there.”
“Where else would I be but my own bed?” His tone is typically dry. Difficult to read. But he’s never wanted me to sleep in his bed. He’s made that perfectly clear. Early on, he would always tell me directly to go back to my bed, and then later the expectation was implicit.
