Page 83 of Madden

“Tell me what you want,” he grumbles.

“You know what I want,” I say, but it comes out more of a whine.

He snickers, and I squeeze my eyes shut in frustration. When he pulls away from me entirely, my body sags in defeat.

“Tell me, Brielle,” he retorts, brushing over my ass down to my pussy.

“I want you,” I whisper, and it’s true.

I’ve wanted to tell him how I feel. I’ve been waiting for the right time, but mostly I’m terrified of telling him.

It’s true, though. All I want is him, and as much as it scares me to think about him moving on and finding love with someone else, I want him to know how I feel.

“I want you to think of me, begging you to fuck me every time you sit down and play your drums.”

In one quick move, he pushes his fingers inside me, and I release a deep throaty moan. I hear the familiar sound of his belt unbuckling, and a small smile curves my lip, knowing I’m finally getting through to him.

There’s a hitch in his breath, and I turn my head to find him staring down at where his fingers work me while his other hand grips his hard length. The desire on his face, the sight of his muscles flexing, and his body tense with need only turn me on further.

I rock against him, desperate for him to give me more.

“Brielle,” he warns, his eyes flicking up to mine.

“I know what you want, Madden,” I mutter, pushing myself up until I stand in front of him.

He doesn’t even protest when I drop to my knees, reaching for the waistband of his denim jeans and attempting to jerk them down his legs.

He chuckles, staring down my body when he stands. He sucks in a sharp breath when I wrap my hand around the base of his dick and flick my tongue over the tip.

He drags his fingers into my hair.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” His eyes soften, using his other hand to brush his thumb over my cheek.

I lean into his palm. “I keep asking myself the same question about you.”

When I suck the tip into my mouth, he tilts his head back, releasing his grip on me and drags his fingers through his short hair.

He’s fighting a war within himself. Does he want to take what he wants from me, or does he want to let me please him?

He drops his hands to his sides, his head rolling down to watch me, and desire burns bright in his eyes. I stare at him from beneath my lashes, sucking him deep into my mouth until I can’t take him any farther.

“Do you know how turned on I get looking at those beautiful eyes while you’re on your knees with my dick in your mouth?”

I drag my nails up his legs, earning me a low hiss when I gently wrap my hand around his balls.

He gives in now, sliding his hands into my hair. He whispers for me to relax my throat, and I flick my eyes up to him, unable to ignore the desire to touch myself while he thrusts in deeper.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” he grunts, falling back onto his stool.

He grips my throat and lifts my chin to kiss me.

I don’t wait for his invitation or bother telling him what I want. I quickly climb onto his lap, looping my arm around his neck while I position him at my entrance.

“Madden,” I warn.

He tilts his head back, his hooded eyes finding mine.

“Every time you sit here, I want you to think about how good this feels.” I roll my eyes closed as I slowly lower myself down his steel length.

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