Page 20 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

We feast on each other as she rides my fingers. Our kisses turn feral, teeth gnashing, tongues plunging. I work her clit with my thumb, earning gasps and moans that make my cock ache to be inside her. She pushes up onto her toes, her thighs shaking, her pussy tightening. “I need my mouth on you.”

“Yes—”

I tear off her shirt, and she’s a fucking dream come true, all gorgeous tits and skimpy panties that have got to go. “My God, you’re stunning.” I hoist her onto the bar and tear off those sexy panties. When I whip off my glasses and toss them beside her, our eyes lock, the hunger in hers a fucking aphrodisiac in and of itself. She watches as I press my hands to her thighs, spreading them wide. “Look at you, so ready for me.” I drag my tongue along her pussy. “Fuck, baby. You’re sweeter than champagne.”

She laughs, her cheeks pinking up, so fucking beautiful, it’s hard to take. I chase that reaction, taking another taste and slicking my tongue over her clit, earning a long, pleasure-soaked moan that I feel in my cock. But she doesn’t look away, her eyes blazing, as I growl, “More intoxicating than whiskey.” Her blush deepens, and hell if that doesn’t twist me up inside.

I bury my mouth between her legs, trying to chase that unfamiliar twist away, turning her sexy moans into more greedy sounds. I feast on her, using fingers, teeth, and tongue, making her writhe, whimper, and moan. Every sensual sound slithers beneath my skin, fueling my need for more. She fists her hands in my hair, rocking against my mouth. “Yes…oh God…don’t stop.”

I could eat her all night long and never tire of hearing her beg. I push two fingers inside her, seeking that magical spot, and take her clit between my teeth, teasing it with my tongue.

“Ohgodohgodohgod.” Her fingers dig into my shoulders, her thighs trembling. “Seth. Ah. Yes.” I quicken my efforts, and my name shoots from her lips like I’m her fucking savior. I stay with her, reveling in her bucking hips, the sinful sounds sailing from her lungs, and the sweetness of her arousal. When she finally comes down from the high, I’m too fucking greedy and send her right back up to the peak, holding her there.

When the last of her orgasm pulses through her, I kiss my way up her body, slowing to tease her breasts, earning more needful sounds. Her eyes are hazy, her breathing ragged, as I make my way up to her mouth and take her in a merciless kiss that has my cock throbbing and her hips rocking. I tear my mouth away, gritting out, “Damn, sweetheart, you’re my new favorite addiction.”

Her smile is as embarrassed as it is thrilled. She pushes at my shirt, panting out, “Off.”

That’s it, baby. Get aggressive. I grab my shirt with both hands and rip it open. Buttons fly over the bar. She laughs as I strip it off, and damn, that’s the sweetest sound. I reach for my wallet. “Fuck. Condoms are in the bedroom.”

“I’m protected,” she says quickly, and reaches for the button on my shorts.

I strip them off with my boxer briefs, and then there’s no stopping, no thought of tomorrow, no rules, only the inferno we’ve been fighting all night burning through us like wildfire. Her legs lock around my waist as I haul her off the bar and drive into her. A surge of pleasure engulfs me as her cry fuses with my curse, ruthless and raw. Our hungry sounds tear through the air, coiling around us as we surrender to a brutal collision of desire, desperation, and emotions I try to silence by tugging her mouth to mine.

Our kisses are wild and messy, our lovemaking reckless and fevered, as an orgasm crashes over her, and she cries out my name. I pump and grind, holding her ass with both hands as we ride out her pleasure.

When she goes soft in my arms, our bodies still connected, I carry her to the couch and lower her down, sinking deeper into her tight heat. She inhales, sharp and ragged, and holy hell, pleasure radiates through me. I’ve never felt anything so perfect.

She grins up at me, eyes full of lust, and grinds her hips, like she can’t stop herself from anchoring me deeper inside her. “You just earned that Superman cape back.”

A rough laugh tumbles out. “Fuck Superman. I’m going for Iron Man.”

Silencing our laughter with a hungry kiss, I pump my hips, then dip my head to tease her nipple with my tongue. She moans, bowing beneath me as I suck her nipple to the roof of my mouth. She cries out, her fingernails cutting so deep, I know they’ll scar, and I fucking welcome it. I continue teasing and sucking, grazing my teeth over the taut peak.

“Seth—” she pants out, desperate and needy.

I reclaim her mouth, capturing all that want, and try to go slow, to savor the taste of her, the heat thrumming between us. But she feels too damn good, meeting my every thrust with a rock of her hips, a squeeze of her pussy. The intensity builds like a mounting storm, and we pound out a frantic rhythm, kissing, biting, and moaning. “Jesus, you feel good,” I say gruffly against her lips like a numbskull, too lost in her to say something more eloquent.

But as our mouths come together again, I make it up to her with my body.

Lifting her legs at the knees, I take her deeper. Her moans vibrate through me as I guide her legs over my hips, quickening my efforts, and lower my mouth to her neck. Sucking and grazing my teeth over her flesh, I revel in her nails digging deeper, her legs squeezing tighter, and then she shatters, screaming my name like a fucking prayer. Her pussy clamps around my cock, sending a bolt of pleasure shooting through me. Fighting against my own release, I push my arms under her, holding her tight as I take her in another ravenous kiss.

Fuck Iron Man. I want to surpass him and be her very own superhero, better than any she could ever imagine.

We ride out her climax, and I take her right up to the peak of another. She clings to me like a lifeline, her body trembling, squeezing me like a vise, and she pants out, “Seth…Come with me.” Her plea pulls me past the point of no return, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me in merciless torrents, a relentless undertow dragging me deeper into her, until I can’t tell where she ends and I begin.

Our sounds echo around us, the pleasure lasting so long, I’m sure I’ve died and gone to heaven. When she goes boneless beneath me with a sweet, sated sigh, her fingertips brushing my shoulders, I bury my face in her neck, breathing her in as our bodies twitch with aftershocks. “Jesus, El,” I rasp, my voice ragged. “I think you’re the one with the superpowers. You’ve turned distraction into an art form.”

Her laugh is shaky, spent, and so damn real, I want to memorize it. I lift my face to see hers, and my chest constricts at the depths of emotions staring back at me. I should leave it at this, say a swift good night, and try to rein in my own emotions. But in this moment, I know two things for sure. I’m not leaving, and we’re not nearly done.

Chapter Seven

Taylor

I wake to sunlight trickling through Seth’s bedroom curtains, the steady beat of his heart against my back, his strong arm wrapped snugly around me. As if my body knows I’m trying to decipher whether I’m stuck in a magical dream I never want to wake up from, I become aware of the delicious soreness in all of my no-longer-lonely places and the scent of him, warm cedar and leather, threaded with hints of last night’s debauchery. I should be panicked, scrambling to make sense of what I did. But I’m not. Instead, I keep my worries at bay and allow myself to revel in this moment, to pretend, just for a few minutes, that this is normal, that it’s real, and he’s mine.

I spent years imagining what it would be like to be with Seth, tucking away daydreams and weaving fantasies, telling myself it was harmless. But reality eclipsed every tale I’ve ever spun. Not only is Seth easier to talk to and a better listener than I dared let myself believe, but he’s also some kind of primal god in bed. After giving in to the carnal urges that overtook us in the living room, we moved our sexfest into the bedroom, exploring and enjoying until we were both too spent to move. I have no idea what spell he put me under last night, but I’d like to sign up for it again, please.

In those reckless hours, I didn’t recognize the wild woman who gave herself over to him so freely and completely. But this morning, with my head a little clearer, I do. Or rather, I think I’m starting to. I feel a loosening inside me. Like the chains I cinched around my heart after being left at the altar are rattling, and after eight years, that sort of terrifies me.