Page 61 of Bared

Oh, what Brickham was doing to her core.

His rolling thrusts. Her hot pressure.

His extra shoves. Her extra zaps of awareness.

His careful, caressing slides. Her long, shivering vibrations.

“So good,” he rumbled into the front of her neck. “Damn it, Pixie. You’re so. Fucking. Good.”

Jayd almost laughed. Was he joking? Good? This had gotten good several minutes ago. Or had it been hours? She cared not, nor did she even want to. All she wanted was more of his decadent kisses, full of his dark clove taste. More of his grip at her wrists and his glorious cock inside her body, branding every inch of her walls with his masculine dominion.

But the words had to stay locked in her mind. Somehow, all the wires between it and her mouth had been severed, then fused into the one gigantic nerve she felt like now. The massive, open exposure for this mesmerizing man…

The force of nature who dropped his hold from her wrists to her nape, doubling the impact of his command inside of two seconds.

Who splayed that hand along the back of her head, stretching his powerful fingers through her hair. Who held her in place with unignorable strength, filling her sights with nothing but his bold, hewn features and his burning, fierce stare.

He leaned in, kissing her fast and hard before gritting out, “You still with me, Pixie?” He inched up an impossibly alluring smirk in response to her frantic nod. “Good. That’s really, really good.”

Jayd was on the brink of rolling her eyes, except for two hard facts. First, the man’s swagger was built on a base of raw sexiness. Second, his cocky ruggedness was ten times better when he was clothed only in her.

After seeming to read item number one straight from her mind, the man was swift about delivering the second. By lifting his other hand and palming it over one of her breasts.

“Oh!” she cried out.

“Somebody’s got stiff, juicy nipples,” Brickham murmured while peeling back one of the thin cups of her bra. As he continued to tease her aching peaks with one hand, he used his other to reach between her legs. “Somebody’s also stiff down here. And quivering. And wet.”

“Brickham.” She panted. “Oh, Sir. Ohhh…”

“Oh, lady,” he husked between increasingly fast breaths. “What this sweet little clit is telling me…”

“The same thing my cunt is telling you?”

He had turned her into one giant live wire, and now she jabbed back with that exposed electricity. And oh, how she gloated through every second of it. She even added a coy shrug, once it appeared like the man was swallowing and breathing normally again.

“Brothers.” She was confident it would do as an explanation.

“Hot.” Brickham jumped on the shorthand trend too. Well, it was their trend—and right now, no other craze or fad or fashion meant more to her. She doubted any of them would for a very long time to come.

A morose thought for a different time. Much different. This moment was only about connection, celebration, and completion. About basking in this unexpected bond with this unforgettable man. About cherishing as much about it as she could.

Including the part where he circled a knowing finger across her distended button…

And then again…

And then—

“Brickham!”

She arched up. He bore down—hitting the spot at her center that needed him the most. She moaned and sobbed and struggled to keep her body in one place. Any instant, her skin was surely going to shatter like glass and fall away from her in blissful shards. No mortal shell was capable of containing this ecstasy.

“Sweetheart.”

His new growl was a blast of perfect flame in her senses.

“Need,” she begged in return. “Need.”

“What?”