Page 49 of Revenge (Elite of Elmwood 3)

Excitement raced through my blood as I did what he asked, bearing my naked ass for his eyes to feast upon. I turned my head to the side on the pillow, needing to see a glimpse of him as he positioned himself behind me.

Spreading my thighs slightly, he braced himself over me and nudged his tip into the center between my legs. I fisted the blanket in my hands, my breath stalled as I waited for him to fill me. The anticipation killed me as he kept me in suspense, teasing me and rubbing his dick on my throbbing clit.

How many times did I have to beg him? Another plea sat on the tip of my tongue about to escape when he slipped inside me. Pure bliss radiated from my center out until I was encompassed in glorious heat.

Brock pushed deeper inside of me, and my body clenched around him, holding onto him as long as possible before he pulled too damn slow and pumped back inside. His thrust became harder, faster. I wanted more.

More of him.

More of this rush.

More. More. More.

Thrust for thrust, I matched his pace, giving and demanding. It was liberating having him inside me without a rubber in the way, the pleasure heightened by feeling his wetness intermixing with mine.

Damn, I loved him. Even the annoying bits.

In this position, his dick stroked differently, and the fucker knew what he was doing. My orgasm came quick, ripping through me.

My. Fucking. God.

Brock Taylor had the power to unravel me.

I braced a hand against the headboard, my other hand wrapping around the back of his neck as the wave of pleasure rocked through my body. He rolled his hips, dragging out the bliss, and just when those contractions started to fade, he slammed into me, finding his release. “Firefly,” he groaned into my hair, his seed spilling into me.

My limbs melted onto the mattress as I let my weight sink in. I breathed heavily, my heart still pounding in my chest. “I might not be able to move for the rest of the night,” I mumbled, the side of my face pressed into the pillow.

Brock rolled to the side. He brushed a damp piece of hair off the cheek that I was too lazy to move. “We managed to do this not in a car.”

“Or on a couch,” I added, a small smile gracing my lips.

He arched a brow. “There’s one downstairs.”

I pinched in the side. “Don’t even think about it. Like ever. We are not having sex on my parents' couch.”

Catching my hand, he placed it onto his chest. “Probably a good idea since I know that Grayson has had his fair share of hookups there.”

My entire face scrunched. “Gross. Why would you tell me that? I’ll never be able to look at it the same again, not to mention sit on it.”

“I’ve got something you can sit on, Firefly,” he informed in that sex-drenched voice he knew drove me crazy.

“You did not just say that to me.”

He flashed me a grin.

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