Page 69

Brett growled and palmed my ass, bringing me hard against him. His cock was thick and heavy between us. Mouths and tongues tangled. He kissed me breathless. He made me want—need—to feel his skin against mine. I burrowed under his shirt, grazing my nails against his muscle-honed flesh and slid my hand onto his back.

We separated long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head. Then, his mouth was on me again, and my hands were everywhere—slowly sliding up his chest, gliding over the hard muscle of his shoulders, and skating onto the defined cuts of his biceps.

And he continued to pleasure my mouth. I felt the heat of his kiss in my breasts. Tension coiled low in my belly, and my pussy ached with the need to have him inside me.

I broke the kiss and forced a harsh inhale, and he opened his mouth over my neck and gently sucked my flesh. I clung to him as a whimper escaped my lips.

“Ah, baby, I missed this, too.”

He met my stare, and a lazy smile found his lips. I didn’t linger on his face. I soaked in all of him. Muscles cut lines into his chest. Tattoos covered so much of his skin. He was art. A tapestry of ink and attitude. But beneath the color and camouflage, he was protective, fierce, and so freaking hot.

I didn’t want insecurities clinging to my thoughts. Why would he want me? I was nothing like the girls in the MC and nothing like his ex. But then he was nothing like Jeff, and god, I wanted him in ways I’d never wanted anyone. Everything I felt with him was new and different. Wild. Relentless.

“Do you have a condom?” Because I didn’t.

“I wasn’t planning for this,” he pulled two condoms from his back pocket and dropped them on the nightstand, “but I wasn’t going to be without one if I had the chance to have you under me again.” He sat next to me on the bed. “Are you worried it’ll break?”

I smiled. “Did you measure and get a bigger size?”

“Boxes of condoms don’t come with a size chart,” he said with a teasing edge. “Most guys know how big their dick is considering how much time we spend jacking off.” His lips lingered against the shell of my ear. “Just like you know how soft your pussy is.”

With a gentle tug, he lifted my shirt over my head then sifted his fingers through my hair, draping the tangled mess down my back. His fingers slid under the strap of my bra, gently pushed it over my shoulder, and slipped it off.

Shivers chased across my skin as he rasped a thumb over my nipple. More kisses followed the tendon of my neck.

“Did you think about me?” His palm floated across my abdomen and slipped into my leggings. My thighs widened, and he traced my slit, grazing my clit, and twisting his finger inside me. “I’ve run back being with you every fucking day. I’ve fucked my fist raw remembering the way it felt to be inside you. Did you think of me when you fucked your fingers?”

“Brett,” I whispered. My fingertips clawed at the hard meat of his shoulder as his touch seared my flesh. His words, his touch, his breath on my neck. It was too much. I crashed my lips into his.

He cradled my skull, angled my head, and sank his fingers into my hair. The need in him was as palpable as the burn inside me. His tongue communicated what I felt. His touch spoke in ways words couldn’t.

He slowly lowered me to the bed. With his gaze locked on mine, he tucked his thumbs into my leggings and tugged them over my hips, taking my panties with them.

I scooted back on the bed and slid beneath the comforter as Brett stripped out of his jeans. His cock was thick and hard and stretched toward his navel. I swallowed the extra spit in my mouth as he tore open the condom and rolled it down his dick. Muscles in his abdomen flexed. My pussy pulsed with the same anticipation.

He turned off the nightstand lamp and slid into the bed next to me.

I breathed in the scent of him just as his body crushed against mine. His hands splayed over my belly, onto my hip, and then he shifted, splitting my thighs and settling into the cradle of my pelvis.

He stared into my eyes with a soft smile on his lips. “You okay?”

I nodded, and when his cock notched my opening and pushed inside, a whimper slipped past my lips. The stretch and heat felt so good. The scent of his skin, the cadence of his breath, and the weight of his body had my mind spinning and my heart racing. Braced on outstretched arms, he rocked his hips, sliding in and out of me.

The pace was pure pleasure. With every thrust he filled me. He kissed me. And he whispered filthy things to me.

“I love how wet your pussy gets for me. You’re strangling my dick, baby.”

I moaned and arched my back. He fucked me with slow, steady strokes, building momentum to a fevered pitch. “Brett.” I gasped, my tattered breaths gusting past my lips. I undulated my hips and clawed at his shoulders. My body tightened, the thread of pleasure between my heart, my breasts, and deep in my core began to fray.

“You fuck me so good,” he whispered. “You’re going to come so hard on my cock.”

I was. Drilling deep, he fucked me harder. Yet, his lips were soft against mine, his breath warm, and his tongue sultry as he kissed me with the same intensity he speared into me.

Every muscle in my body tightened. A ragged moan crawled up my throat and escaped my mouth.

“That’s it, baby. Let me hear how good I make you feel.” He shifted his angle, penetrating so deep. I couldn’t moan. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. I was incoherent. I couldn’t think of anything but this man and the way he made me feel.

A million sparking stars exploded behind my closed eyes. My thighs locked to his hips, and my core contracted against his dick. And he continued to fuck me with long, hard thrusts.