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And I want to make her mine.
I drop her onto the bed and land on top of her, framing her shoulders with my hands. I kiss her, tease us both as I slide my cock up and down over her wet pussy, until I decide that we’ve both still got entirely too many clothes on.
I sit up, making fast work of pulling her dress over her head, and Brooklyn attacks the buttons of my shirt. She bares my chest, running her hands down my stomach while I work on the zipper of my pants… and the minute I’ve got them open, she springs my cock free.
She takes it into her fist, stroking my velvety length, then she leans forward and licks up the little bead of precum forming on my tip.
I shiver and brace myself, one hand on each of the posters at the foot of the bed.
God, I want her mouth on me, her tongue rolling over the head of my cock, those gorgeous eyes looking up at me as she does it… but I want to be inside her even more. I want to fill her up, make her scream, claim her as my own.
“Lie down,” I growl, then pounce on her before she even has a chance to comply.
She draws in a surprised, pleased gasp, and God, I want to hear her do that again. It’s all I want.
My rock-hard cock finds her sweet entrance, dripping wet and ready for me. I press into her, and she moans, her pussy already clenching with the first waves of a new orgasm.
“Oh my God, Prescott,” she whines, clinging to me and wrapping her legs around me again, drawing me deeper into her.
She feels so good. So right.
I want this moment to last, but at the same time, we’re both so ready to come.
“Give it to me,” she says, pleads, and that’s all it takes.
I buck into her sweet pussy, and she moves in cadence with me. I fuck her hard until she’s tilting her head back and screaming toward the ceiling, until her walls clench around my cock and squeeze every last drop of cum from me.
It’s an incredible release, an incredible feeling to have Brooklyn’s body so completely wrapped around me, but what’s even better is falling asleep in each other’s arms after, clinging to each other like we don’t ever want to let go.
In the morning, I wake up to the sun streaming through my window and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met nestled against my side.
When I kiss Brooklyn’s forehead, her eyes flutter open. “Good morning,” she says, her voice husky with sleep.
“Morning,” I smile. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Best sleep of my life,” she answers. “What time is it?”
I lean over the edge of the bed and fish my phone out of the pocket of my pants. “Seven-thirty. You don’t have to leave right away, do you?”
If I had my way, she’d call my house her home and never leave again… but even I’m struggling to come to terms with how fast I’ve fallen for this woman, so I at least have the sense not to say that out loud.
“Nope,” she says, reaching her arms out and stretching. “I’m off work today. What about you?”
“Wish I could say the same,” I tell her. “I’ve got to go into the outreach center for out after-school programming, but that’s not for quite a while. Do you want to go get breakfast?”
Brooklyn rolls over, draping one arm across my chest and resting her chin on top of her hand to look at me. “I have a better idea.”
I grin. “Oh yeah?”
“Do you have bread, milk and eggs?” she asks. “I want to make you breakfast. My famous French toast.”
“Mmm, sounds good. I’m sure I’ve got all that.”
“That way,” she says, craning her neck to kiss me, “we won’t be too far from the bed.”
She smiles coyly and I tell her that I like the way she thinks. I get her a clean robe from my closet, and pull on a pair of pajama bottoms myself, then point her in the direction of the kitchen.
I’m enjoying the view from behind as I follow her, wondering if the sway of her hips is natural or if she’s doing it just to test my resolve to make it all the way through breakfast before dragging her back to bed. Then she asks, “What are you doing after work? Maybe we could go back to the festival, do a few more things we missed last night?”
“Wish I could,” I tell her, “but I have dinner with my parents every Friday night.”
“Oh.” She pouts a little, and it’s honestly freaking adorable.
“You should come with me,” I tell her as we get to the kitchen.
She turns around. “To meet your parents? The day after we met?”
