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I let out yet another moan. I must be purple in the face, raising my back up as much as I can without breaking the ties.
She bends down over me, her lips parted. And as I watch, she takes me in her mouth. All seven inches.
My back slams back onto the couch. I gasp, relaxing in spite of myself.
Brit starts to suck me off, moving her mouth expertly. I shut my eyes against the tide of emotions that threaten to overwhelm me.
“Brit,” I gasp, eyes still tightly shut. “You’re going to have to stop that. Now, or I’m going to come.”
She listens to me this time, moving backward. I look at her, certain she’s got one more card up her sleeve.
But the only emotion I can detect on her face is hot, unabashed lust.
She’s done playing games, and she’s as horny for me as I am for her.
She flings one of her legs over my body, positioning herself so she’s directly above me.
I let out my loudest grunt yet. “Britney.” It’s a warning. I’m going to claw my way out of this hold in the next few seconds if she doesn’t start to ride me.
But I don’t need to do that. Because Britney slams herself down on me.
“Fuck,” I yell, my voice almost muffled by her moans. She holds my shoulder as she starts to ride, going faster as she gains momentum.
I stare up at her, gasping as heat floods me. It is beyond torture to look at her, her boobs bouncing every time she moves, and not be able to reach out and grab on to them.
“Britney. I need to touch you.”
She ignores me still. Her nails are digging into the skin of my chest as she rides me even harder than before.
My eyes almost roll into the back of my head at the intensity of the pleasure. I should be content with this, but I want more. With Brit, I always want more.
I push myself up without ripping the makeshift tie, grabbing one of her nipples with my mouth.
A shiver runs through her. “What are you doing?” she moans.
I don’t answer, choosing to suck on the sensitive button. Britney is still holding on to me, riding as hard as she was before, but she’s also writhing, and her movements are not as smooth as they were.
“Alex,” she suddenly cries, “I’m going to come.”
Her words trigger my climax, and I flop on the sofa as I spill into her. Britney collapses on me a second later, still moaning as her orgasm wrecks her. I untie my hands and wrap my arms around her, crushing her against my chest as both our heartbeats return to normal.
And in those moments, as my orgasm recedes and I finally start to approach normalcy, I finally understand why it’s been so easy to disregard Blake in favor of his sister. To lie to him, to risk our lifelong friendship, and to do whatever else it takes to keep Britney around me.
I wasn’t just addicted to her. I didn’t just desire her sexually. I didn’t just want to be around her all the damn time.
I was in love with her.
CHAPTER 19
BRITNEY
Everything I thought about Alexander Steinman is true.
Yet another wave of nausea swims up my throat as my father’s words replay in my head for the billionth time. I close my eyes against the sudden dizziness I feel, waiting for the new wave to subside.
A burst of laughter forces me to open my eyes sooner than I’d like. I turn around. The sound had come from Alison, another massage therapist.
The last thing I want to do right now is follow her gaze, but I find my head turning of its own volition. And once again, I’m staring at the ice rink, where the Philly Flyers are practicing for the next game of the season.
