Page 44 of Bossy Ex's Brother

I knew the exact moment he snapped.

I could feel it in the way his hands tightened around the strands of my hair and the groan he let out into my mouth. It rolled through my whole body, raising my hair and awakening nerves I didn’t even know I had. My heart pounded in my chest, and my stomach clenched with arousal as he moved forward, his chest hovering over mine. I felt him climbing onto the bed until he was kneeling astride me, but that was about all I could tell. All my senses were overwhelmed by his smoky taste, his manly scent washing all over me. My entire body was tingling with torturous need, and I started moving against the bed, silently begging for him to press his body down on mine.

But he stayed elevated, holding himself up by one hand while the other hand pressed my lips against his, devouring me. His tongue was masterfully tangling with mine, drawing me into his own little game that made it clear who was the master here. I didn’t mind. In most of my sexual encounters, I tended to be the dominant one, but it felt so good to yield control to someone who knew what the hell they were doing.

And boy, did he know.

Even when he pulled back, his eyes blazing into mine, there was no question who was in charge. Still, he sought my consent. He wanted me. I could tell from the bulge that was skimming the tops of my thighs, but he wasn’t one to push. He wanted me to accept this.

And that, more than anything, made me wet as hell. I nodded, permitting him and losing myself to the desire bubbling inside me.

As soon as I did, his eyes gleamed in the moonlight. I tried to bring my face up once more to resume the kiss, but he shook his head.

“Slow this time,” he whispered, his breath hitting my neck in a delicious tactile shiver-inducing sensation. “I want to savor this.”

And savor it, he did. One hand slipped underneath my shirt as he began dropping gentle kisses against my neck. My heart beat even faster because of the gentleness of the gesture combined with the pure filth of his hand running up the skin of my stomach, clearly headed to my breast.

And I wasn’t wearing a bra.

I gasped the second his fingers touched my nipples, the sensation magnified by the fact that he started sucking my neck at the same time. Somehow my mind managed to merge the two as if a link had formed between my breasts and neck. Every time he sucked on my neck, I felt it in my nipple, and it was even worse when combined with the way his fingers strummed it confidently. My body began undulating against the sheets as I squeezed them in my hands. He pressed the nub between the pads of his fingers, and it had me gasping even as the pain enhanced the desire. My lower body rose to brush against his bulge even before his lips traveled down my shirt, his nose nuzzling the other nipple that had already puckered underneath the shirt.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his breath making me squirm. I looked down and met his gaze as he bowed it again. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re turned on, darling.”

And then I watched him lift my shirt, his eyes ensnaring mine as he slowly took my nipple into his mouth and began to suck.

I closed my eyes, unable to bear watching anymore. I could hardly stand to feel it. The sensations running through my body were maddening, causing my thighs to open and close, aching for more. The hunger was boiling, and I thought I would go crazy if I didn’t have him right now.

My hands went to his hair, pulling and trying to drag him up my body.

“Please,” I pleaded, and he hummed against my nipple, adding an extra layer to the thunder firing through me.

“Patience,” he murmured after he let my nipple go with a pop. He continued to go down my body, his other hand releasing my nipple to go toward my pajama shorts. I bit my lip to keep from ordering him to go faster. Not that he would have agreed to, anyway.

“Your bossy pants won’t work here,” he said as his hand slipped underneath my pajama buttons. He lay on his side, watching me as his fingers played with the little dusting of curls on top of my pussy, teasing me. I kept moving, trying to get him to touch me directly, but he continued to dance his fingers on my slit, deftly avoiding the point until my clit was painfully swollen, and my pussy wept for him.

I wanted to cry too.

“Yeah, that's right,” he said. “Just give yourself to me. Just let go of everything.”

I couldn’t. I felt like I was going to combust if I did. But then again, I felt like I was going to combust anyway.

And that was when he finally sunk his fingers into my wet heat.

“Fuuuck.”His voice was a harsh whisper. “You’re so wet, sweetheart. Shit, I can feel it dripping all over my fingers.”

I couldn’t answer. One of his thumbs rested against my clit while his finger sank into my pussy, slowly fucking in and out of me. My body started shaking. I was close, so fucking close. I was going to come anytime now.

“Not yet,” he said as though he could read my mind. “I want to taste you first.”

And just when I didn’t think I could take any more, his tongue was on my clit, licking me slowly but incessantly. I cried out then, and my body splintered from sensation overload.

Before I knew it, I was rutting against his face, shouting and crying, nonsensical words flowing out of me. I think I begged for more, but I also begged him to stop the torture. But he kept going. I glanced down at his eyes, which were like a maniac. Like he was lost in the madness just like me, and he wanted both of us to combust together.

“Do it,” he snarled, his lips an inch away from my pussy. “Come all over my face.”

He sucked my clit into his mouth, driving his fingers into me harshly, and then I was coming. I was also sobbing at the same time. I couldn’t help it as all the emotion gushed out of me without warning, leaving me limp and defenseless.

Then I was being swung through the air until I was sitting on him, astride his hips. He kept me from toppling over with one hand while the other went to hurriedly push his jeans down just enough to release his large cock. I was surprised when he ripped my pajama shorts off; the tearing sound was a testament to just how far gone he was.

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