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Hold on, what? Is that why it is so thick and veiny? Is he holding back far more than just days of sexual tension?
Before my thoughts can get away from me, Brodie plucks me up off the floor, then walks me into his bedroom, kicking the door closed on the way. The main door is already shut.
Despite the humid July night, the bedding feels cool against my burning skin when he places me down in the middle of the bed before leaning over to dig a condom out of his bedside table.
The way he rips it with his teeth before guiding it down his shaft is almost as erotic as him positioning himself between my legs. He’s impatient. Almost desperate. And before I can secure a full breath, he slowly notches inside me.
The burn as he pushes in inch after steely inch is excruciating, but I suck in a few big breaths while remembering that the pain will be a small price to pay to relieve so much sexual buildup.
“Christ, Henley.”
Just the way Brodie growls my name takes the edge off. It has me acclimating to the pain of being stretched so far and encouraging the faintest roll of his hips.
“I don’t need to move yet. Take all the time you need.”
“I don’t need time,” I assure him. “I need you.”
Again, a flare of panic darts through his eyes.
“To stop pussyfooting around and get the job done.”
He smirks before slowly rocking his hips backward. I expect him to slam back in, but his pace during reentrance is more timed than his exit. His slow speed should be infuriating, but the flick he adds at the end of his roll snaps the last bit of restraint I have left. I beg him to take me hard and fast, to fuck me senseless as promised.
I need him to let go of the restraints holding him back for a few more blinding minutes.
“Be patient.”
“No. I want you to fuck me.”
“I’ll tear you.”
“I. Don’t. Care.” I slam down on him as each word rings in my ears, forcing him deeper with every thrust. “I want to feel where you’ve been. How deep you went. I want to remember how you couldn’t hold back no matter how hard you fought.”
The pads of my feet dig into the mattress when he slams in so fast my eyes roll into the back of my head.
I’ve never been more full.
“Yes,” I hiss through gritted teeth when the rock of his hips turns undulating. He pounds into me without constraint, drawing moans out of me with barely any effort. It feels good. Wildly intense. I’ve never experienced such an indulgent sensation.
Brodie knows how to fuck. He has the cock of a god and the moves to match its size.
Our connection is better than I could have ever imagined.
Over and over again, he drives into me. He takes me to the brink before forcing me over the axis. I come again and again and again. Yet, he still doesn’t stop. He fucks me until my entire body collapses with pleasure, and I am so spent that the only thing I can do is roll over and hug my pillow while fighting to breathe.
14
HENLEY
My muscles are deliciously sore as I descend the stairs siding the kitchen. My exhaustion saw me oversleeping, so I wasn’t shocked to wake up alone. It is a little after ten following the Fourth of July weekend. It could have ended worse.
“Good morning, Lucy-Lou,” I greet when I spot her at the island in the kitchen, playing on her father’s laptop. “Are you meant to be on that? Daddy could have important stuff on there he doesn’t want you to see.”
“I’m allowed when my iPad is dead.” She screws up her nose. “I think.”
“Maybe hop off until you can check with your dad.” I ruffle her hair when she immediately jumps to my command. “Then there’s less chance of us getting in trouble when we make a mess.” After filling a mug with coffee from a pot that looks like it’s been sitting for days, even with Brodie making a fresh batch every morning, I pull on an apron and tie it at the waist. “What’s on the baking menu today?”
“Um…”
I move closer to Lucy when she drops her eyes to her feet. “Is everything okay? I’ve never heard you so quiet.”
She smiles and nods before turning her bottom lip into her infamous pout. “I promised Daddy I wouldn’t bake for a week.” She must see something I wasn’t meant to show. “He said you had lots of other stuff to teach me, but you wouldn’t get the chance if you’re always cleaning up my mess.”
“That’s true. We still have that dress to finish.” Her pout decreases when I ask, “A bowl of Cheerios and then a dressmaking class?”
