Page 17 of Finding Brooklyn


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“I’ll make it up to you.” He bends down and grips the back of my thighs, lifting me up easily to sit on the kitchen counter where he can stand between my thighs, our kiss turning from sweet to heated in seconds.

I moan, rocking against him as my center grows hot and slippery almost instantly. It doesn’t matter how many times he brings to me orgasm with his tongue or fingers, I can never get enough. “Brooks, I want you.” I whine when we break for air, and I can feel his groan against my neck.

He bites my collar bone lightly. “Don’t tempt me.”

We’d agreed to“take things slow”that first morning together, but that’s the kind of thing that’s much easier said than done. It’s been a week. A week of Brooks giving me mind-blowing orgasms with his tongue or fingers or both and waking him up with my mouth around his long, thick cock. If he doesn’t fuck me soon, I might actually drop dead from sheer desperation.

“That’s exactly what I want to do.” I smile mischievously, warm tension settling low in my belly and my panties growing damp when Brooks looks back up, his eyes dark and hungry.

“We should wait until after you meet with Dr. Walters.”

Another hard conversation we’d had to have.

If it turns out I need surgery immediately, something that is still unclear since I haven’t had new scans since I stopped snowboarding eight hours a day, being pregnant would not be good. My surgery would have to be postponed and I’d likely be in a lot of pain for months on end with a growing baby sitting on my damaged hip.

Still, we did nothing about the cum he fucked into me with his fingers, so the damage might already be done.

Which would make me the Virgin Delta.

Nope. No way.

“You know there are such things as condoms,DoctorHarrison.” I wind my arms around his neck and Brooks rolls his eyes at my cheek.

“Yes, I might be old, but I did attend health class.”

“So?” I raise my eyebrows hopefully, pushing one hand between us to rub the thick cock tenting his scrubs.

Brooks bucks into my hand, his breathing already growing uneven. “Fuck, Delta. I’m trying to show some restraint here.”

In response, I pull the tie to his pants and slip my hand inside, wrapping around his length. “Can I put my mouth on you, Doctor Harrison?” I ask sweetly as I stroke him more firmly, my thumb swiping up to gather the precum dripping from the head of his swollen cock.

Cursing, Brooks lifts me off the counter and strides over to the couch where he drops me back into the cushions. “Take off your clothes, you little brat.” He orders me roughly, sitting down beside me. I’m transfixed by the sight of him stroking himself, and fumble to pull off my clothes. The moment I’m naked, Brooks pulls me onto his lap, my wet pussy spread over his cock.

“Ride it, sweetheart.” He grits out, gripping my waist and guiding me over him.

Holy shit.

The head of his cock bumps against my swollen clit on every pass, and my head drops back, a moan tearing from my throat. “Brooks!”

He groans too, thrusting from beneath me. “You have no idea what you do to me, Delta. Oh fuck yes, you’re so wet-“

The doorbell rings and immediately all three dogs start barking.

We both freeze, staring at each other. “Ignore it, probably a delivery.” Brooks says gruffly, pulling me close so my tits are pressed against this rock-hard chest and we can kiss desperately as I begin to move again.

“You feel so good.” I whimper, feeling my orgasm beginning to build deep inside me. Brooks must be able to tell because his hand move down to grip my ass, speeding up his rhythm.

“Shit, come on baby, cum for me-“

The doorbell rings again.

We both groan and I drop off Brooks lap, covering my face in frustration. I wasso close.

“God damnit.” He curses, standing up and pulling his scrubs back on. “You’re going to have to get it, Delta.” He grumbles apologetically, nodding toward the very noticeable tent in his scrubs, which hide absolutely nothing.

I giggle reluctantly and roll off the couch, throwing on my clothes just as the doorbell rings a third time. Tibia, Fibula and Femur are beside themselves, barking and whining in the entryway when I turn the corner. “Shush.” I point toward the kitchen and they comply reluctantly, padding off.

Pulling open the front door, the heat lingering through my body from Brooks’ touches turns cold so suddenly I sway on the spot, staring at the grave faced man standing on the top step.

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