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“Baby,” he breathed, and I knew better than to glance back as vulnerability washed over me. But I did, finding his full lips parted in awe. In the next heartbeat, he dove forward, his fingers wrapping around my jaw and pulling me over my shoulder to claim my mouth. His hand snaked between us, notching his cock with my entrance. In and out, he teased with just the head, sending shivers up my spine as his breath traced my neck.
“You were always supposed to be mine,” he whispered, and then thrust forward in one smooth motion, sending every scrap of air out of my lungs. Leisurely, as if we had all the time in the world, Broderick slid back, before rocking his hips forward, halting when he met resistance, sending my body trembling.
“So damn full,” I gasped, convinced he’d just stretched me to my max.
“Almost there, baby. You gotta relax.”
“What?” I squeaked. “Christ, Brod.”
“Never thought about the challenge of you being tiny until now,” he muttered, and I laughed, my core clamping down and earning a satisfying pulse of his cock. A victorious smile split my cheeks when he growled, “Don’t fucking do that. I’m not done with you.”
Smirking, I stifled my laughter, trying to relax instead, but God, it wasn’t easy. “Never,” I said, smiling as his hands roamed down the length of me. At least, right until he impaled me on that miraculous weapon of a dick. Air was a foreign concept. Everything trembled. Delicious ache and pleasure danced in my core. There was well equipped, and then there was Broderick motherfucking Allen.
“Broderick!” I cried out, fighting to brace myself as he filled me entirely, every damn wall aware of each glorious inch of him.
“That’s it, baby. That’s my girl—finally taking all of me.” A low groan rumbled from him, and then he was shifting, picking up a slow rhythm, like he was easing me into it. “Your pretty little pussy looks so good stretched around me. I wish you could see what I see.”
“Enjoying the view?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he growled before clapping my ass, and then soothing the sting with a gentle caress. Then his fingers were digging into my hips, owning my body as he scraped them up my frame.
There were no words. Just a shaking nod. We spent our lives lost to the world, always wishing we could just get lost in each other, and miraculously, it was an even more magnificent sensation than I’d even imagined. He was more magnificent than I’d imagined.
“That’s my girl,” he said again, each syllable dripping with pride and lust and something that felt a lot like love. Nope. Wasn’t going there. Too soon. “My clever, beautiful, sexy girl.” The snap of his hips picked up tempo, and I threw my head back as he filled me to the brink. I arched into him, tilting my ass up in offering, somehow needing more, even as he bottomed out. Impossibly full. Achingly full. In all those fantasies, it was never like this. This desperate. This divine. My body sang as he ran his hands roughly over every inch, slowly sliding home like we’d been carved of the same stone. Urging my body to adjust around him.
“You won’t break me,” I promised, and his dark chuckle rumbled through me. Broderick wound his hand into my hair again, tugging my head back with a delicious sting. When he finally started thrusting, I breathed a desperate, “Yes!”
Just like that, he severed the outside world. All he left was bruising pleasure, the tickle of sweat on my body, and the slap of his skin against mine. The obscene, wet slide of our bodies mixing with my desperate moans and his pants and grunts. And I got lost in him. Lost to Broderick Allen. The man I always wanted but never believed I’d have. The man who held my soul in his beautiful, gentle hands. Gentle hands that were deliciously not gentle as they wreaked havoc on my nervous system, running over every inch of skin, tweaking my nipples, slapping my ass between demanding thrusts that stole my breath. Again and again, he relentlessly jackhammered into me like our lives depended on his performance. One hand in my hair, the other slid up to tweak my nipple, and I cried out as the combination of sensations overwhelmed me.
“You close? Fuuuck, I’m close,” he panted, dropping that hand down to play with my clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. The other shoved me forward, the side of my face collapsing to the mattress as he hammered home. Expertly working my clit as though he’d memorized what my body liked in the first round, now masterfully driving me to madness.
“Yes!” I cried.
“Good. Come with me, baby.”
“Yes!” I moaned again. And then he was swelling against my walls, the sensations impossibly intense. He picked up the pace against that throbbing bundle of nerves as release barreled forward. More. “I need?—”
“I know. I’ve got you, Pix.” His tone was guttural–a primal kind of growl as he obliterated me, pleasure overwhelming my senses, sending tingles through my body to the roof of my mouth. Fingers digging into my hips, he growled, “Mine.”
“Yours,” I sobbed back as that claim shattered me. And together, we hurtled over the edge into the abyss of euphoria below.
At some point, he eased me onto the mattress and wrapped my body in his, those strong, dark arms pinning me against him, his breath hot on my neck. My head was spinning, body limp and numb, soul singing an incandescent serenade only he had ever coaxed from it. Sex had never been like that. That was an…out-of-body kind of bliss.
The oxygen was finally finding its way into my lungs, our skin just beginning to dry when he breathed, “El?”
“Yeah?”
“What if I don’t want this to stay in Vegas?”
Broderick
Elora’s skin pebbled beneath my touch, although I wasn’t sure if it was my fingers on her spine or the question I’d left hanging between us. I ran a thumb over the word wildflowers formed by fireweed, lupin, and the aggressive wooded vines our island was known for. She’d tattooed our song on her body. I’d been in love with this woman since we were teenagers, and she’d inked our favorite song on her skin. I’d known from the beginning if I let myself taste her, there would be no stopping.
I couldn’t even blame the whiskey, or Vegas, or anything else that happened tonight. Sober as a preacher on Sunday morning, I took what wasn’t supposed to be mine. There wasn’t an ounce of guilt left, even as her bewildered eyes found me. Everything about her felt…right. Like we just fit. Like we’d always been.
Her lips were parted slightly, gaze still heavy with echoes of pleasure. I could eat her out for the rest of the night, and it wouldn’t be enough. Nothing temporary would. I needed Elora Rhodes like I needed the air in my lungs, and one taste would never be enough.
El eased onto her back, her hand naturally coming to settle against my cheek. Her evaluation made me want to shrink into myself, but I held her gaze, my fingers trailing along her ribcage, memorizing the lines of her breasts. Slowly soothed the side of her ass where my handprint was still pink. She was so sinfully sexy, it shouldn’t be legal.
