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A hand snakes around my waist and slowly slides into my shirt, caressing the soft skin on my stomach. "Tell me, Ry. Where is the ache at?"
Just the way Brock talks to me in a low but deep tone and how his hot breath is causing goosebumps to rise has my libido coming to life. Can I do this? My body is saying yes, but my mind is screaming for me to run.
When Brock slides his hand southward and cups my sex, he whispers, "Is this where your ache is, Ryan? Do you need me to make it feel all better?"
I whimper at the mere touch of his hand down there. "I shouldn't…"
"Why not? You're no longer a virgin, and we are two consenting adults," Brock points out.
I turn my head and look him in the eye. "Because I'm still in love withhim."
Brock scoffs, "I'm not asking for your love, Ryan."
I remain silent as I stare at him, contemplating what to do, but then his lips slowly descend and brush against mine. They are the same lips that I knew so well, for so long. Until I didn't, and a new pair of lips burned into my memory. I picture Beau in my head and open my mouth for Brock.
Another moan slips out, and the next thing I know, my jeans are unbuttoned, and Brock's hand is inside the front of my pants. He finds my clit in no time and rubs it a few times before going further, looking for that sweet spot he liked so much. He never lets go of my lips as he dips a finger and then a second one into me.
"Fuck, you're still so tight…" he breathes against my lips. "Tell me you want this, Ry, because if you don't, then we need to stop right now."
Do I want this? I know I've been lonely, and then, of course, all those thoughts about Bain still run through my head all the time. Maybe if I have sex, I won't be so sex-crazed and think of my stepfather like I do sometimes. In that brief moment, I make up my mind, even though I haven't the slightest idea whether it's a good decision or not.
Before I can back out, I nod. "Yes, Brock. Take away the ache…"
"Oh, thank fuck!" He pulls his fingers from inside me and sucks on them before spinning me around and lifting me. My legs automatically go around his waist as he sprints up the stairs while carrying me.
He brings us down on the bed, his body covering mine. "I have waited so long to have you, Ryan."
He pulls away long enough to yank my jeans and panties off my body, and then he releases himself without taking his clothing off. He wastes no time as he pulls me to the edge of the bed and lines himself up to my opening. Just before he pushes in, I call out for him to wait.
"You need a condom!"
"Are you fucking serious right now?" Brock frowns.
"Yes, no condom, no sex." I won't budge on this one. Beau will be the only one that will feel me bareback.
Brock gripes about it, but he does grab one from his drawer and rolls it on. "Just for this, you better be prepared because I'm not going to take it easy on you."
It's the only warning I get as Brock thrusts into me fast and hard. It's not that I'm dry, but it's still been a while, and the intrusion hurts. It makes no difference to Brock, though. He hammers into me, and all too soon, I'm starting to feel the pleasure the pain is beginning to cause, and I moan.
Brock snarls and fucks into me even harder as he says, "That's right, Ryan. Take all of me, and soon, I will make you forget all abouthim!”
He doesn't. Brock lied. If anything, it's made me think of Beau even more. Brock doesn't incite the same feelings of pleasure in me like Beau did, and as hard as I try to imagine it's Beau who is inside of me, I can't. There is a vast difference between the two. I need this, though. As much as I wish he was someone else, he's not, and Brock deserves my full attention.
"Please, Brock, I need more! Make me forget, even if it's just for a little while…" I moan as he opens my legs wider and slams into me, going deeper than he already had been.
Brock may not have the girth, but he is a bit lengthy. It hurts whenever he hits deep inside, but it's exactly what I need. He captures my knees between our bodies as he leans in, pressing them into my chest. It's harder to breathe, but he doesn't seem to care. He's taking what he wants; that notion turns me on for some reason.
"I told you I wouldn't take it easy on you, and I won't. I'm going to take what should have been mine for years. If you want me to stop, then say Red. Otherwise"—his hand snakes up until it's wrapped around my throat—"I'm going to fuck you like my own personal whore, Ryan."
I gasp as he says this and squeezes my neck. I can still breathe, but barely. Between my knees crushed against my chest and his hand around my throat, I'm at Brock's mercy, and my core throbs because of it.
I can't move as he hammers into me, his eyes on mine the whole time. He's fucking me almost angrily.Is he still angry at me from months ago? When I wrap my hand around his wrist, he growls.
"Hands above your head, Ryan. Iwill make you come, but this is about me right now. It's about me finally having the one thing that should have been mine all this time. I was very patient with you, but not anymore. You let someone else have what should have been given to me…"
I whimper.
"Yeah, that's right. You just lay there and take what I give you." He slams into me, hitting a spot that shoots tingles into my core. "At least I got to have that ass first."
