Page 78 of The Irresistible Distraction

“Then I’ll convince you.” His thumb finds my clit, applying an excruciatingly perfect amount of pressure as he sucks on my neck. Another finger slides in, stretching and preparing me for the part of the makeup sex I’m most looking forward to. I feel my legs start to give beneath me as all the sensation in my body gathers to where Brody’s hands are, and as if understanding exactly what’s happening, Brody pushes one of his thick thighs between mine, offering me a modicum of support.

He flexes his fingers, and this time it’s my head that bows forward, leaning into his chest, the water running down our bodies already starting to cool. “I’ll distract you,” he whispers into my ear as his other hand travels up to my breast.

He applies a little more pressure, adjusting us until my head is lolling back to grant him better access, and then he presses his lips to mine. I reach for his head, and when his tongue enters my mouth I suck at it greedily, closing my eyes as the climax washes over me, legs liquefying in a way that makes me grateful his thigh is there, supporting my body even while my entire being seems to have floated away.

After, though I reach for him, he bats my hand away with a laugh, shampooing both of us leisurely before drying us off and carrying me to the bed.

I glance at the clock and see that it’s not quite five.

“Plenty of time,” Brody says, pushing me down before covering my body with his, creating a cradle for himself between my legs.

I try to explore his body, but he catches my hands in his, raising them above my head. His voice is unsteady as he teases, “Impatient much?” Before, I’ve always been too hyperfocused on my own body and reactions, the differences in our levels of experience. For whatever reason, today is the first day I truly appreciate the effect I have on him. His breathing is ragged, and when I’m able to focus on his response, I can feel the small trembles he masks through broad grins and constant teasing.

I arch my body experimentally, so that the tip of his cock grazes my entrance, making us both moan.

“If you let my hands go and we’ll see which one of us is the impatient one,” I stretch my hands a little, swallow and wait, feeling as though I’ve jumped from a plane without first testing my parachute.

Brody lowers his head to mine, the difference in our heights all the more noticeable because of our relative positions, because he’s so clearly larger and could (if he wanted) choose to be more dominant.

He breathes a laugh onto my forehead before kissing me there. “I’ve created a monster.”

I flex my hands against his. “You love that I’m a quick learner.”

“Okay,” he says. Before I really have time to process what’s happening, he lets go of my hands and flips us so that I’m lying on top of him now. “Have your way with me.”

I blush again, because this is what I asked for, yes, but I’m not really sure what to do now that I’m here. I lever my body up a little, struggling against the desire to cover my breasts, to not let him look at me, even though I know it’s silly. He’s seen me, this, all of it, before.

As if sensing my unease, Brody reaches both of his hands out, placing them on my hips before trailing them up to my breasts. “You are beautiful, Sophie Emma Masters. I am so completely mesmerized by you that anything you do, or don’t do, will be the exact right thing.”

His words steal my breath and I blink several times before I whisper, “That can’t be true.”

“It is. And I’ll keep reminding you until you believe it. If you want to sit here and do nothing beyond letting me admire your perfect breasts, these lovely little indentations at your waist, if you want to let me tangle my fingers through your hair while you breathe, while you exist . . . that’s enough for me.”

He brings my body down for a kiss, my breasts crushed against his chest even as he uses one hand to reach down between us, unerringly parting my legs, rubbing the wetness of my slit along his erection.

“That said, there’s enough, and then there’s better.” He grins and I can feel my body clenching against nothingness as I move against him, lifting up to slide along his length.

“Are you—” I can’t make myself say the words. I have an IUD, because of course, after Sebastian, it was the first thing I researched. But because there was only ever Tyler 2.0 and the awkward fumblings of that condom . . . I’ve never had to ask this particular question. “Are you clean?” My cheeks are warm with the thought.

“God, Sophie.” He leans forward again, biting my shoulder, which seems to have become a habit of his. “I don’t want to be one of those men who tell you what you can and cannot do, but honestly, you absolutely cannot ask a man that question when you’re in this position.” He thrusts his hips against me, his erection not quite entering as he groans again. “I am this close to plunging into you, bare, and that’s just not—I can’t,” he groans. “Don’t do that.” His voice is hoarse, almost as if he’s battling with himself. “Yes, I’m clean, I have annual physicals and you’re the first since then, but you cannot expect any sane man to feel you, the way you’re already—” He grips my hips as if to stop my motion, not allowing me to rock against him. “Fuck. You simply cannot expect an honest answer in a moment like this. I would lie. Any man would lie—” I position the head of his cock against my entrance when his grip loosens, and he cuts himself off mid-sentence.

“Fuck it, there’s not going to be another man. I’m clean, and yes, I want to be inside you so damned much.” From there, it’s both easier and harder than I could have imagined. He positions me and then, not letting me look away, helps me lower onto his body in one smooth glide. I feel every inch. His eyes never leave mine and his grip on my hips is just this side of painful, but I don’t mind—the combination of pleasure and pain seems to feed upon itself, synergistically.

The feel of him pressing into me in this way seems more invasive and infinitely more intimate. We remain still, the seconds passing, and I’m allowed a moment to get used to the feel of him before the faint pressure of the stretch recedes and I begin to move.

It takes adjustment, my thighs shifting to position correctly as I lever myself up before my hips bear down again, as he thrusts up to meet me. My eyes close at the intensity of the sensation, my entire body tingling as I contract around him, eliciting a groan and another bucking motion from Brody, even though there’s nowhere else to go—he’s already filling me completely.

My wet hair is still trailing behind my back, and when I arch away, Brody reaches forward to knead a breast, before he falls away when I clench around him again. He mutters words that are mostly curses, with very little of his usual finesse; usually he tells me I’m beautiful or perfect, that I’m doing something just right. Today, all Brody seems capable of uttering is fuck, yes, and fuck me, and more often just fuuuuuuuuuck.

Only after a rhythm is established do his hands begin to roam. One large, strong hand reaches behind me, guiding and helping me adjust the angles between our bodies while his other hand cups my breast, kneading and then pinching my nipple harder than he usually does because he’s clearly far less in control than he normally is. His groan is tortured, his body shuddering in a way that makes me realize this is the first time he’s allowed himself to orgasm before I do. Still, the moment I think this, the second I feel the way he’s filling me, both hands suddenly painful at my sides, his release triggers mine, until I’m clawing at his shoulders and arms because there’s nowhere to hide as I lose control, feeling completely exposed and completely myself in a way that’s never happened before, even with Brody.

Afterward, we are a mess. It’s only when I awkwardly push myself off him, so that I’m lying next to him as opposed to flopped down, lifeless and wrung out, that I realize I’ve actually drawn blood.

“I am so sorry,” I whisper as I trace the small nail marks.

“Don’t be,” Brody laughs. “Nothing is sexier than you, of all people, losing control like that.” He bends one arm behind his head, biceps flexing, tattoos on full display, his smile broad, dimples deepening. “You’re going to give me a big ego, you know.”

“Going to?”