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I hardly knew. They were gentle, but his ministrations were agony.
"Please–you–I–" My words came out stunted, half-formed.
Without warning, Brandon shoved himself fully inside.
"Fuck!" he barked.
"Oh!" I shouted.
He pummeled into me with a few sharp, intense thrusts before pulling out just as suddenly.
"No!" I yelped at the sudden absence, but then the thumb on my clit started to work, and I melted back into the sheet. "Please," I begged again as he brought my body closer to its edge. Seriously, the way the man used his fingers should have been illegal.
My body tensed again, this time preparing to let go completely. He pulled his hand away.
"Hey!" I shouted, slamming my hands on the mattress in frustration.
I glared up at him, and he chuckled, although from the way the bricked muscles of his torso were flexed, he was having a difficult time maintaining his control too. He covered me with his body, silenced my cries with kisses.
"Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are right when you're about to come?" he murmured into my ear.
His long length slid into me again. I moaned and tried to tilt my hips to bring him in even deeper. I craved those deep, punishing thrusts from before. My hands were no longer clasped, instead grabbing angrily at the sheets. But he kept his slow, steady pace, finding a rhythm with his body as he caged me with his warmth.
"Your whole body seizes up," he continued, his deep voice vibrating against my ear. "Your eyes get so wide, I could get lost in them. Your mouth opens, a perfect, fuckable 'O'. Sometimes I can't decide whether I want to fuck your mouth or your pussy." He paused over me, closing his eyes as if in pain. "Fuck, Skylar. You feel...fuck."
"Brandon," I whimpered as I raised my mouth up, looking for a kiss. "Please." I didn't know how much more of this I could take.
His eyes popped open, their bright blue searing into me. He pushed up to his knees and continued to move, somehow finding a way to sink deeper, to touch the darkest parts of me with every merciless drive of his hips.
"Yesssss," I hissed as he found a harsher rhythm that would undo me completely. "Keep going. Don't stop."
My hand drifted down my body to find my clit, but Brandon slapped it away.
My eyes blinked open, confused. "What––"
"Not this time, Red," he said, his breath ragged and harsh with his effort as his hips started to move even faster.
Beneath his assault, my limbs began to shake, hips jerking involuntarily to meet his. I writhed, desperate for contact, every nerve in my body alight and yearning for the simple touch that would send me soaring.
Brandon just pressed his hand, palm down firmly over my center to still me against his onslaught.
"No!" he said sharply. "Tonight's pleasure is mine."
He rammed so hard I yelped in response. Once, twice, three more times. But just when I thought the feel of him would push me past that point of no return, he pulled out with a shout and released himself all over my stomach, fisting his length while his groan filled the room.
Our eyes met, flashing something almost dangerous in the dark-lit room. After a few minutes, once we had both caught our breaths, Brandon pushed off the bed and walked into the en suite bathroom. I lay there, my entire body still tensed for a release I wasn't going to get. Casting an eye toward the closed bathroom door, I contemplated just finishing myself off. But something made me stop. This felt like a penance, one that maybe I deserved. Brandon could read me like a book; how often had I been lost in thought only for him to anticipate my worries before I'd even had a chance to speak them aloud.
Maybe he knows.
Could he?
Blue eyes or green?
When he returned, I cleaned myself up with the damp cloth he brought, then curled into a ball under the covers. Brandon slid into bed, but didn't gather me close like he used to. Instead, he faced me, with at least a foot of space in between us. It might as well have been a mile.
We didn't say anything, just let the sound of our breaths fill the room. A few streams of moonlight soared through the blinds, casting long shadows over the sharp lines of Brandon's face. He just watched me, with a curious expression I couldn't quite read. There was love there––there was always love there––but it was guarded. Mixed with something that looked like curiosity, fear, maybe even a bit of quiet, lingering anger.
Several times Brandon opened his mouth as if to speak, but he always closed it again. I just hugged the covers tightly to my chest and pulled my knees closer. Eventually the silence overcame us both and we fell asleep.
~
