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When he doesn’t push himself inside immediately, I buck my hips upward, in silent askance. “Please,” I whisper to him, my lust-veiled eyes fixated on his.
His jaw ticks visibly, and it occurs to me what’s happening—Brody is attempting to keep himself in control. But a second later when he plunges the entire length of his hardness into me, burying every inch into the deep depths of my core, it’s very, very clear that he’s lost the last shred of that control, and it’s replaced only by primal desire to own my body.
He begins to move within me, at first slowly, letting every solid inch of his erection slide in and out of my slick channel, stroking my core with the deliberate slowness of a man who knows how to bring a woman to the peak of sexual bliss, then increasing his pace, thrusting his hips harder and faster to cause a furious friction that threatens to undo me. The throbbing of his cock tells me it’s threatening to undo him, too.
I gasp each time I arch my back to meet his hips, slamming himself into me in rough, quick movements, and Brody grunts with the exertion, his hands positioned at either side of my head as he kisses me with the same feverish intensity he fucks me with.
We are one, then, led by the rhythm we’ve found with each other and the inferno of desire that blazes through us. Gone are the soft caresses of his fingers, and the tantalizing, methodic massage of his tong
ue against mine. We’re too far gone, now.
Brody plunges inside me with the intensity of a man who’s lost his civility, left with only his primal instincts to guide him. And that’s fine, because every instinct within me is begging to come apart beneath him.
“Brody...” I manage to whisper, gasping again at the pleasurable pain that rages through my entire body with each thrust.
“Come.” His mouth is pressed against the edge of my ear, his breath hot and damp on my fevered skin. “Come for me, Corinne.”
As if obeying his seductive command, every tightly strung muscle within my body clenches deliciously and my eyes squeeze shut as my body shatters completely with the tsunami of sensual sensation and euphoria that rips through me with the strength of a hundred wild horses.
“Oh G—”
Brody’s hand clamps over my mouth, stifling my cries. He doesn’t slow his rhythmic thrusts, and within seconds his cock goes from throbbing and pulsating within my tightly constricted walls to spilling himself inside me. His own growls of intense euphoria are met with his bottom lip being bit down on, and every chiseled muscle in his gorgeous body is tense as he tries his damnedest to hold in the sound that threatens to escape his throat.
He finally slows his hips, rolling off of me with heavy breaths that make his chest heave. We both stare up at the ceiling, letting our breathing return to some semblance of normal in the looming silence. We both lay there, completely naked and completely spent.
If I’m supposed to be embarrassed or suddenly modest, neither of those things occur to me. Mostly because I’m still so completely overwhelmed by everything that Brody is. He might be laying here beside me, exhausted and just as disheveled, but the man has managed not only to take over my entire body and make it sing like a choir, but he’s taken over even the deepest recesses of my mind. I’m possessed by him, utterly and completely.
When I turn my head to face him, he’s already staring back at me with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m assuming we should probably talk about this,” he smirks.
My limbs are heavy as I turn onto my side to grin mischievously back at him. “We could,” I agree, reaching out and letting my fingertip trail slowly down his bare abdomen. “Or, we could—”
A sudden wail breaks through the quietness of the room, making my spine rigid.
Brody only sighs, however, then chuckles. “That’s my cue,” he says, pulling himself up into a sitting position.
I mimic his actions, sitting up, my limbs heavy and my movements sluggish. “Looks like we’re making coffee and talking, Brody,” she grins, obviously amused.
“I’m assuming I’ll never find out now what you were going to suggest?”
My loud laughter bubbles up from within me, and I shake my head. “Saved by the crying baby,” I chuckle, standing to search out my clothes. “I’ll make coffee. You go get Spencer.”
Chapter Ten
Brody
Spencer is quite content after his nap once I get him out of the crib, which is a relief. Mostly because I’m pretty damn content myself, and I’m not sure even the incessant wailing of my little boy could curb the crooked smile I can’t seem to wipe off my face.
Corinne has managed to find everything needed to set the coffeepot up to brew, and I’ve just gotten Spencer to chill out comfortably in his seat. He’s watching the two of us with wide eyes, like he somehow knows what’s going on and is eagerly awaiting whatever happens next.
Funny, I’m feeling the same way.
Corinne impresses me by pouring a cup of coffee and remembering that I add two sugars to it. She mixes in the sugar with a spoon and pushes the cup across the counter towards me. I’m surprised even further by the words that come from her mouth next.
“You and Jackson never seemed close when we were growing up.” She stares at me from the other side of the kitchen island, and I can tell her thoughts are light years away.
I’m not sure if that’s meant to be a question, but I respond anyway. “We weren’t, really,” I admit. “We still aren’t. He lives three hours away from here, and I rarely see him.”
“I know,” she says quietly, and I assume she’s referring to knowing he doesn’t live in this city anymore. “But why?” she adds. “I mean, why weren’t you two ever close? You’re brothers. If I’d had a sibling, I’d like to think we’d be close.”
