Page 162 of The Holiday Fakers
“Brody,” I whine.
“You’re gonna come when I say so,” he rumbles.
I pout. “But I need it now!”
He gives a dark chuckle. “I promise I won’t edge you for long, just enough to make it worth it.”
The bed shifts, and I can feel his warmth even though he still isn't touching me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs in my ear. “So fucking hot. You think this is frustrating for you? You have noideawhat it’s like for me. My cock’s hard as fucking steel, and all I want is to suck on your sweet tits and thrust into your tight pussy until I’m so deep in you the whole world disappears.”
I moan at his words, already so close to coming, my inner muscles clenching around nothing as I chase my orgasm.
“But I’m not gonna fuck you till you’re stratospheric. So lie still and let me take you there.”
“O-okay,” I manage, then bite my lower lip as if it might release some of the pent-up energy coiling inside me.
The bed moves again, and I hear the clinking of ice cubes.
“Wha—ah!” I cry as a single point of cold touches my nipple.
But before I can adjust to the sensation, Brody draws it into the wet heat of his mouth.
“Oh my God,” I moan. “Oh, my?—”
My words break off as the ice cube rubs the tip of my other nipple, followed by the fire of Brody’s tongue.
Between the shock of the cold, the soothing warmth, and the scratch of lace against my hypersensitized flesh, I’m struggling to keep track of the feelings. My breath is coming faster and faster, my chest arching into his touch.
But then there’s a buzz on my inner thigh, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
“Don’t move,” Brody says, then lightly bites a nipple.
I let out an incoherent cry, my hips angling to get the buzz higher.
He moves it to my other leg, and I twist to follow.
“You gonna stay still?”
“I can’t!” I cry.
“Then I’ll help you.”
He bites my nipple again, almost making me come, then he’s gone. Fabric and heat press against my inner thighs, like he’s using his legs to keep mine braced apart.
The buzzing trails up one inner thigh, then the other, never quite getting high enough to where my pussy is begging for it.
Pinned beneath him, I can’t move as pleasure crackles across my skin like lightning. The orgasm hovers just out of reach, every cell screaming for release.
“Please. Please, Brody. I need to come,” I gasp.
“Hmmm …”
The vibe moves higher, teasing above and below my mound. My nerves fire and misfire, my body a chaos of pleasure and desperation. But I can’t move my hips or direct my pleasure. All I can do is submit to Brody.
His free hand comes to my right breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers, and electricity shoots straight to my clit.
“Yes! Oh, my go?—”
