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I glance down at my splotchy pink skin, then raise my eyebrows. “My burnt chest?”
“Titties are titties. And yours are perfect.” He kisses the tip of my nose, then takes my hand, leading me to the dining table. “Now, what’s going on over here?”
“Breakfast. But I need to get dressed first.”
“Nonsense. That will irritate it. You better let it breathe.”
I glance at Breckin who just shrugs as he dries off his hands and shuts the first-aid kit.
“You just want to see me topless.”
“Oh,” he chuckles, “I wanna see you more than topless. Woah.” He changes his subject rapidly. “You made all this?”
I follow his gaze to the table. “It’s just breakfast.”
“You made pancakes?”
“Yeah . . . That’s a breakfast food.”
“But, you made me pancakes?” Something changes in his eyes, a glimmer. He blinks and it’s still there. “Fuck, Asra, I –” He squeezes my hand. “You’re – you’re amazing.”
“Hopefully they’re not too cold.”
“I don’t care if they’re cold. You made them.” He plops down in one of the chairs. Still holding onto my hand, he tugs me onto his lap.
My arms flail as I try to regain my balance.
“I can sit on my own.”
“Nope.” His thick erection rubs against my core through our clothes as he grabs another plate and slides it over in front of us. I try to stand, but he wraps one hand low around my waist, holding me to him.
Breckin chuckles as he sits down directly opposite of us. He places his coffee beside his plate, then reaches over and hands Brendan the other mug.
“You’re not going to help me?”
“You look like you’re in good hands.”
I try to pout or seem angry, but Brendan reaches to the center of the table, his hips rotating with the movement. He stabs four pancakes with his fork and plops them on his plate. His hips move again as he reaches for the sausage. As he fills up his plate, every slight movement has his hard, thick dick rubbing against my now soaked panties. I clench my thighs together, not that it helps at all. I can barely think straight. My body heats, all discomfort over my chest or only wearing a pair of underwear forgotten.
“Eat,” he whispers in my ear, “unless you’d like me fucking you right now.”
I swallow hard. My nipples harden.
“Eat first, baby girl. I wanna enjoy this before I have you.”
All his words do is send more moisture straight to my the only strip of cloth I’m wearing. When he takes a large bite of pancakes and moans, I nearly explode. Somehow, I manage to put some food on my plate and take a few bites.
I’m thankful when we all start eating in silence. I’m far too turned on to even think about a conversation. Being nearly naked doesn’t help matters.
He takes a drink, his arm brushing my bare shoulder. Little tingles race up my arm. When he sets down his coffee thermos, his chest brushes my bare back.
When he reaches for more syrup, I bite my bottom lip, barely holding in a moan as I rock my hips against his hard length.
“Fuck,” he half whispers, half growls the word. “Spread your legs.”
I do as he says, placing one leg on either side of the chair. When I rock my hips again, he slips his hand lower, inside my panties. His long, rough fingers find my clit, circling it with fast movements. I moan, gripping my fork tight.
Breckin drops his. With hooded eyes, he watches my every move. Brendan takes another bite, his other hand circling faster. Each little flick sends jolts of pleasure racing through my entirety. It doesn’t take long before I’m panting, my body right on the brink. Before I topple over the edge, he stills. I groan.
