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“I . . . Yes,” I pant, rotating my hips as I try to push him farther in.
“Fuck.” He stills. Leaning up, he stares at where we’re almost connected. “The condoms are in the kitchen.” Our chests heave as silence stretches between us.
“I . . . I’m on birth control. I have an IUD.” I push my hips up, swallowing another inch of him.
He slams inside me. I cry out as he grunts. He pulls all the way out, then plunges back in.
“Fuck . . . You’re,” rotating his hips, he starts another hard rhythm, “you feel so fucking good, Asra.”
I grip the sheets, his arms, anything to anchor myself. Each strong thrust takes me higher. Our kisses become frantic. Our limbs tangle as we grip and pull, chasing our ecstasy.
He sets a slower pace than last time. Yet, it’s harder, more intense. Every nerve in my body stands on end, singing with each urgent slam.
My headboard bangs against the wall. The wet slapping of our bodies mixes with our labored breaths and incoherent declarations.
I’m pretty certain I call him a god. Or maybe it’s a strangled ‘oh, god.’ Pleas for him to stop, to speed up, go harder echo around the room.
Lacing his fingers with mine and stretching my hands over my head, he speeds up. His eyes pierce my soul. “Mine. Asra, you’re mine.” He growls the words before his lips slam against mine.
He lets loose, all restraint gone as the beast inside him takes over, pounding me into the mattress. Higher and higher, I soar to the edge. With a scream, I crest, exploding into white shards, his release following mine.
When I come to, Brendan’s laying half on top of me, tracing small circles around my belly ring.
He chuckles. The throaty sound sends goosebumps all over my exposed skin. He wiggles his eyebrows. “Ready for round three?”
“I don’t think my vajayjay can handle another one of your rounds.” My entire body is sore, lethargic in the best way.
He shrugs. “There’s always your ass.”
I tense. “Um . . . I've never . . .”
Looking into my eyes, he reaches for my hand,nodding. “I’ll be gentle.”
My stomach growls.
“But first,” he kisses my fingers, “you were promised a date.”
I roll over to face him. “So, what all will this date entail?”
He shrugs, running his calloused thumb over my fingers. “I’m sure Breckin planned something.”
“Seriously?” I raise my eyebrows.
“That’s what he’s good at.”
“You have no idea what we’re doing tonight?”
Laughing, he sits up halfway. “There will be food. And fucking. Then more fucking. And hopefully more fucking afterward.”
“Don’t make it sound so romantic.”
“If you want romance,” he leans over me, placing a light kiss on my lips, “there will be romance. But make no doubt, I will fuck you here,” he kisses my lips, “and definitely here.” Leaning down, he places a tiny kiss right on my southern lips before darting his tongue out and licking up my folds. My back arches off the bed as I stifle a moan. “And I plan on fucking you here.” His tongue licks down my crack, all the way around before circling my asshole.
This time, I can’t stop the moan that ripples from my throat. It should not feel that good.There’s no way my body can be ready again, yet I cannot help the way it responds, the moisture that instantly pools between my legs.
He circles his tongue again.
My traitorous stomach growls.
