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His eyes blinked, full of blue fire. "I don't think this is a good idea."
But the clear desire all over his handsome face said exactly the opposite. And so did a week of sleeping in separate bedrooms, not to mention the two empty wine bottles on the table. My underwear was drenched, the front of his pants looked uncomfortably tight, and I was pretty sure I couldn't stop myself from doing this if I tried.
I popped up on my toes again, then slipped the tie around his neck so I could pull him down to me. He didn't stop me. Slowly, tentatively, I pressed my lips to his. When he didn't pull away, I tugged on the tie a little more, encouraging him closer. I opened my mouth, inviting his tongue to mingle with mine, luxuriating in the wine-flavored taste of him.
We kissed like that for what seemed like hours, bodies rigid, mouths moving slowly. It was gentle, yet tense. But then I captured his full lower lip between my teeth and sucked. Hard.
He froze. And then his reaction was almost instantaneous.
Suddenly I was scooped up, pivoted, and set on the kitchen counter, my legs wrapped around his waist, his strong arousal pressed to my core. His hands were everywhere, grasping at my bare legs, my ass, sliding over the damp fabric of my dress to cup my breasts.
"Fuck," he breathed in between furious, torrid kisses that were almost more teeth than tongue. "Fuck."
"Brandon," I moaned as his mouth found my neck.
He bit down. I yanked open the buttons of his shirt, sliding my hands across his chest before I tore the entire thing off him. It was easy to forget just how beautiful he was when I hadn't seen him like this in nearly two weeks. Tall, tan, lean, and muscled, all of it pressed against me.
"You want me to fuck you, Red?" he asked in a low, almost menacing voice against the sensitive skin behind my ear. He licked me there, then bit the spot again, making me writhe.
Something in his tone should have scared me. Every muscle I could see was pulled taut: his forearms, his neck, the twitching muscle in his jaw. I should have seen he was a ticking time bomb.
But instead, I just said, "Fuck, yes."
In a flurry, I was carried over to the sofa, where I was dumped on my knees to rest my body over the back of it. The tie was yanked out of my hands, and my arms were pulled in front of my face.
"Clasp your hands together," Brandon ordered. "Hold them there."
Slowly, I did what he said. Immediately, my wrists were captured in silk, and I watched while Brandon jerked his tie into a rough knot. He doesn't want me to touch him, I thought just before he finished. I was too turned on to care.
"Don't move," he ordered.
I obeyed, and my dress was yanked over my hips, and my underwear torn away, flung to some unknown place in the apartment. Brandon's hand brushed over my bared legs, taking handfuls of my ass and squeezing.
"Fuck," he muttered as he squeezed again.
One hand slapped me lightly across one cheek, and I jumped slightly. Brandon squeezed the other, harder this time, making me jump again.
"Mmmph," I grunted at another light slap. I pressed my face into the cushion. God, I was wide open and dying for him.
"You want it rough, baby?" he asked me, rubbing a coarse palm over my cheek before smacking it again.
I couldn't answer. I didn't care how he took me, I just wanted him.
His hands left me then, and I heard the jangle of his belt buckle as he undid his pants. I tensed, even though I was more than ready for the size of him. He wasn't allowing me to be tender, but if he'd let me close this way, I'd take it. Maybe we'd be able to find our way back to one another.
I arched my back, ready to take him. But instead of filling me as I was expecting, instead I felt the warmth of his mouth. He bent voraciously to his task, pressing his face fully between my legs from behind, his tongue slipping inside me while his fingers reached around to find my clit. He licked, nipped, sucked, nipped again before he suddenly pulled away.
Oh no, I thought. Brandon had a track record of withholding orgasms when he was angry.
"No!" I whimpered. My hands stayed where they were, tied in front of me, but I clenched my thighs tightly around his head, holding him in place. "Please d-don't leave me hanging, Brandon."
He said nothing, just forced my legs from around his head. It wasn't fair, really, that he was so much stronger than me. But just as I had resigned myself to going without, he dove back, licking and sucking and biting, just on that edge of pain and pleasure.
"Is this what you want?" he growled as his hand found my ass with another, harder smack. My back arched in response but the hand on my hip kept me still.
His tongue traveled over me, through me, as fervently as any other part of him could. Then he pulled back as his hands took control, one at my clit while the other thrust one, two, then three fingers inside me and fucked me mercilessly.
"Is this what you want, baby?" he demanded. "To fuck you with my tongue? Make you scream with my hand?"
