Page 40 of The Wrong Brother

“You don’t have to,” she starts as she tries to pull her legs back. I shake my head in disagreement and slide back enough to see her face. She’s nibbling her lip nervously. “It’s not that I don’t like it. It feels amazing.” That soft pink blush I adore begins to creep down her chest. “But, it can take me a long time.”

“Why does it sound like you’re apologizing for that? There’s no rush. Honestly, the longer I get to taste you, the better.” She lets her legs slide open more and I move back, humming against her. “That’s perfect, Cat.”

I test different movements against her reactions: lazy circles, quick zigzags, long laps, and tiny teasing touches. I tap my tongue against her and she moans. Tapping then circling get a bigger moan. I can’t believe I’m getting to learn what she likes.

“Raff!” she gasps out, tipping forward. She rests her forehead against me and I can’t stop touching every bit of skin I can reach. Still tapping and circling I use one finger to rotate around the rim of her opening, using light pressure just inside. She exhales loudly, quivering. Small variations, increasing pressure and Catherine is panting for me. I don’t want this to end. I can’t get enough of her—the way she tastes, the feel of her skin under my tongue, and the sounds she makes are addictive. Her hands are on my abdomen and she licks a line down, making me moan against her. Her hands shake against me and I double my efforts. I fucking love the way she reacts to me. Tapping and sucking have her right on the edge. My fingers are pressing and stroking inside and I can feel her inner muscles tightening. Her legs are quivering and she is making the sexiest little sounds. I suck around her clit, hard and swollen from all the attention, and suddenly her hand is on me. She squeezes my cock, pumping her hand up and down my length in tandem with the lapping of my tongue. She cries out, pulsing against my lips and I have no control, I’m exploding onto her.

“Fuck!” I roar.

She’s trembling over me, her breath ragged. I slide back and there’s cum on her breasts, dripping onto my torso.Let me die.She collapses onto her side and I sit up, dropping my head into my hands.

“Rafferty,” she sighs, her voice barely a whisper, “that was… Raff?” Catherine pries my hands away from my face. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, Catherine. I…” I close my eyes. I can’t even look at her, I’m so humiliated. She climbs into my lap, taking my face into her hands.

“Raff, look at me. Please?” I open my eyes although I wish I could disappear. “That was so hot!” I shake my head, not even able to talk. “Why are you upset?”

“That wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We didn’t even get to…” I exhale loudly, so fucking angry with myself I can’t even finish what I was saying. That’s a cruel fucking joke, isn’t it? Can’t even finish…

“Are you kidding me right now? I wasn’t only talking about what you did to me, Raff. That—thewholething—was fucking hot!” She looks down at herself, arching her back a little. “Are you telling me you don’t like seeing me like this?”

“Fuck, I’d have to be crazy not to see how hot you look. But…” she interrupts me.

“No buts, Raff. From where I’m sitting, you were so turned on by me, by what you were doing to me, that you couldn’t hold back. It was incredible. I’ve never been so flattered.” She kisses me deeply, her breasts sticky and pressed against me.

“Thank you for saying that, Catherine. I don’t regret it—I’d make you come every fucking day if you let me—but I can’t deny being disappointed and embarrassed that I’m not inside of you right now.” She kisses me again, slowly and sensually.

“Not right now, no. How about after we shower?”

My heart feels like it is slowly filling with helium, rising from the depths. I take in her kind eyes, looking at me without judgment. “You mean you still want to?”

Catherine laughs at me. Straight-up laughs, that bright girlish trill that settles and makes itself at home right in my chest.

“Fuck yes I still want to.” She convinces me with slow kisses and affectionate touches. It’s not easy to stay upset with a naked Catherine in my lap.

24

catherine

I’m deliciously relaxed. I’m also sweaty, sticky and have dried salt water and sand on my skin. It’s no secret how I feel about messes. I take Rafferty’s hand and lead him to my shower. I can tell he’s still embarrassed but I don’t mind putting my time and effort into convincing him that he shouldn’t be. I get the water temperature adjusted and then have to run back out to the hallway.

“Almost forgot the towels, again! It really was an accident when I walked in on you before.”

He smiles at me, stepping into the water and pulling me in with him. I’m still incredibly turned on and being in here, steam rising around us, water splashing, his perfect body so close to mine, is only amplifying that. We use the body wash to lather each other up, touching between slow kisses.

“What’s your favorite part of your body?” he asks me, his hands moving in small circles over my torso, leaving bubbles in their wake.

“Oh, um, I don’t know. My hair’s ok, I guess?” I shrug. That’s lame. I haven’t given it much thought, and it’s always easier to be critical. Ask me my favorite of anything I’ll struggle but I can tell you what I hate all day long.

“What’s your least favorite part then?” I point to my hips. My shoulders are narrow, my breasts and waist are small and my hips and thighs have always felt disproportionate. “For real?” His soapy hands glide over my hips, down my thighs, and back up again. “See, if you had asked me what my favorite part of your body was, I would have said the exact same thing. Hands down. This line, from your hips to your thighs, that generous curve flaring out from your little waist? That is fucking sexy.”

Little tendrils of heat, like small vines, grow out from my center.

“I’m not sure I can pick a favorite part of your body,” I pantomime studying him. “I probably need more time with it. Up close. One-on-one. Just to be sure, you understand. I can keep a running tally if you like. Maybe do like a sports bracket or bullet point list.”

“Spreadsheet. If you’re not going to take it seriously there’s no point in doing it at all.” More kissing and soapy stroking have Rafferty’s most impressive appendage standing at attention. I wrap my hand around him. He’s thick and his skin is velvety soft. I slowly towel dry my hair, then his, dragging things out now that I know he’s ready for me. He waits as I turn the washing machine on (we forgot before), then as I strip the blanket and top sheet off my bed. He comes behind me, hands on my breasts and mouth on my neck. His voice is low and the tone gives me goosebumps.

“Are you going to keep finding little tasks to do or are you going to let me fuck you properly?”

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