Page 35 of The Fangirl and the Crooner

“I’m sure,” I say, then push myself upright, careful to hold myself above him without allowing his cock to slide in any further until I get an answer to my own question. “Do you want to?”

He stares at me for a long moment, breathing like he just ran a marathon, then slightly increases the pressure of his fingers on my hips. Then, in one swift motion, he pushes down while bucking his own hips upward, filling mecompletely.

“Oh, fuck,” we groan in unison, and I have the ridiculous urge to laugh and yell “Jinx!”

Because I’m so happy. Because he feels so good.

I manage to control myself as I sit there, motionless, adjusting to the feel of his cock stretching my insides so deliciously. I tighten those muscles around him, and he hisses through his teeth, so I do it again.

“Pressley,” he moans, “you keep doing that, and I’m going to embarrass myself.”

Whatever sassy response I was going to give comes out as a strangled yelp when he suddenly flips us over. My back hits the mattress with a bounce, and Bram looks down at me from above, a warm smile on his lips.

“This is better,” he says, moving his hips slowly to pull out and push back in the tiniest bit.

Electricity sparks my nerve endings as heat builds in my core. Bram lowers himself until his weight is braced on his elbows instead of his hands, then kisses me while his hips pick up the pace. I dig my heels into the mattress so I can meet him thrust for thrust, and soon, we’re both gasping for air as a raging fire combusts between us.

Tilting to one side, Bram squeezes my opposite breast, then pinches and tugs at the nipple. A jolt of pleasure shoots straight to where we’re connected, and I cry out. He keeps driving into me at a perfect pace and rhythm, and I hold my breath as a ball of tension forms in my core.

Then, I’m coming, crying out his name as he pushes harder and faster, chasing his own release now that I’ve found mine. The new speed and friction sets off a freshpulse of need inside me, and as the tension builds again, I almost panic.

I can’t possibly be having another orgasm, can I? I’ve never had it happen before, and I was sure I wasn’t one of the lucky ones whocould.

Centering my mind, I focus on Bram, what he’s doing, and how good it feels. He’s moving even faster now, and fuck, how does he do that? He’s like a machine, or something. Like the Terminator.

Stop, Pressley. Focus.

He drives forward with a roar as he comes, and that seems to trigger my own explosion. Lava fills my veins, shooting to my extremities with the force of a volcano as I shout something unintelligible, even to myself.

My mind goes blank as I float back to earth. Bram’s moving again, this time a soft, slow roll that keeps the aftershocks coming at a steady pace.

“Holy shit,” I breathe when I can finally speak again.

Bram chuckles, presses his mouth to mine in a soft kiss, then pulls back slightly to say, “Holy shit is right.”

I gasp as he pulls out, his cock still girthy even though it’s mostly soft now. I watch as he rolls off the bed to land on his feet. His sweats are still cinched around his thighs where I left them earlier, so he pulls them up and disappears into the bathroom.

I’m feeling self-conscious, lying here completely naked, so I start to move as soon as I hear the water running. Sitting up, I scan the floor for my clothes, but before I can hop up to grab them Bram reappears, shooting me a frown.

“Where are you going?”

He doesn’t seem to expect and answer, though, as he strides forward holding a wet washcloth. I try to take it from him, but he snatches it out of reach with a shake of his head. After gently pushing my legs apart, he cleans me up before tossing the cloth into a nearby hamper.

I don’t have time to decide whether to be touched or mortified by his assistance before he hops over me, lands on his back, and pulls me down into the cradle of his arms. I snuggle into his side, and his fingertips trail over my back as his heartbeat thumps against my ear. We lay like that for ages, neither of us in any hurry to move or get on with our day.

So, Bram Baker likes to cuddle.

Good to know.

And I, Pressley Glade, cannot stop smiling.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

Bram

My cheeks hurt. I don’t really understand why. I always smile a lot at work, so today should be no different, right? It’s like the reason for my smile has somehow made the muscles in my face work harder than usual.

---