Page 146 of Rush

“Don’t take your eyes off me,” I whisper, running my thumb over his lips. “I want you…”

I lower myself onto him, slowly. His jaw slackens.

“…to watch me.”

He gasps.

“Take you…inch?—”

He bites down on my thumb. A moan punches out of me, as I feel the pressure in my thumb and at my core, stretching around the thickest part of his shaft.

“—by inch.”

Broderick’s eyelids flutter.

I take the rest of him—right to the base. He feels so full this way, all-consuming. My body melts around him before I slide back up, rocking my hips in painfully slow strokes.

“Ah, fuck,” Broderick cries out, eyes flying shut.

“Watch me,” I whimper, gasping at the way his cock strokes every tender part of me. The friction. The heat.

He opens his eyes—green and dark in the shadows—and I burn under the weight of his gaze. I love the way he looks at me. Love the way he makes me feelsogood.

Languid strokes—up and down. I ride him, my fingers clawing at his mouth, my other hand circling my clit the way I like. His fingers digging into my thighs. I use him. Claim him.

We find our rhythm—his hips bucking up to meet me, thrust for thrust. I grind harder, chasing that edge. The pressure builds, sharp and insistent, before it snaps—like the string of a guitar pulled too tight.

We cry out each other’s names as we unravel together, lost in the blinding rush of release.

My head rests on his shoulder, our sweat-slicked skin cooling against each other, nothing but our ragged breathing filling the space between us.

“You never answered my question,” he murmurs.

“What question was that?”

“How many?”

I straighten, sighing as I meet his gaze. “Two.”

His eyes widen, surprise flickering across his face as he absorbs the answer.

“What,” he finally says.

“Yes. Him...and you.” I tap the tip of his lips with my finger.

A shadow of something softer passes through him. “Now I really wish you’d met me first.”

That sentiment—from the beach—settles heavy between us. And something about the way he says it makes my heart ache. Would Broderick have been more careful with my heart? Or am I doomed to circle this endless loop of what-ifs?

I laugh, lightening the mood. “With your monster cock? Jesus Christ, I probably would’ve ended up in the ER.”

He throws his head back and laughs, that deep rumble shaking through me.

“We can’t dwell on the past, Brody. We’re here now. And I don’t regret it. I’m glad for the experience. In some ways,” I add, tracing lazy circles on his chest.

He studies me. “Would you ever be open to...trying things with me?”

“Oh, in-house training? Do I get a sign-up bonus?” I tease, threading my fingers through his hair.