Page 100 of My Anti-Hero


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Pushing at his shirt, I hungered to touch his skin.

Brett had paused at the connection, but when my hands fell to his pants, he came back alive.

He bent in one motion, picking me up with both of his hands cupping my ass. He didn’t wait for my legs to wind around his waist, he just lifted me and deposited me on the kitchen counter.

“You were going to leave me?” His hands ran up the inside of my legs.

I looked up, seeing how angry he still was, and as our eyes met, he yanked my legs open as he moved between them, fitting right into place.

“Hmmm?” One of his hands lifted again, cupping the side of my face, his thumb running over my mouth. His other moved to my pants, undoing them, and as his thumb sank inside between my lips, his other hand shoved down, finding my entrance.

I moaned, pleasure taking me over. Lust. Desire. All of it was circling through me like a tsunami.

He looked down at his hand between us, but his other thumb kept hold of my mouth. “You were going to run. You were going to leave us all behind, and what good would that do?” He looked up once again, a haze over his eyes, as the need to submit his dominance was pounding through him. And I knew it was there because I was feeling it inside me, the same yearning was pressing out of my chest, wanting to connect to him, to cement his hold over me.

I began panting and ran my tongue over his thumb.

His eyes focused there, that haze widening, and as he sank a finger inside me, he switched out his thumb for two other fingers of his. I gasped from the sudden onslaught, but then I was swallowing on his fingers. I tasted them, desperate to taste whatever he was feeding me, but as I did, a second finger joined inside me, and he was thrusting them in slowly before drawing them back out. His other thumb pressed on my clit, rotating, as he kept moving inside me.

A different look came over him as he was watching me. I clenched around his fingers, not sure if I liked that look, but he flashed a wide and almost wicked grin as he pulled his fingers from my mouth, replacing them with his own mouth. He drank in my gasp as his fingers twitched on another thrust, and I yelled, my release coming fast and automatic and so strong that it shocked me.

Tremors rippled through my entire body.

Brett drank all of it up, his lips owning me, as his fingers pulled out of me. My pants were taken off. He lined up, pausing, his head lifting to look at me.

I nodded, licking my lips, wondering for a brief moment what his cock would feel like inside me, and then he shoved in, and I moaned all over again, because he felt so good.

He ate that moan up too, before pushing me against the counter, his hand holding the back of my head so I didn’t hit against the cupboard. As he did, he began moving hard and fast inside me. He was doing it with one purpose and one purpose only, to make me come all over again.

As I realized that, I began shaking my head. “I can’t. Not so soon after—”

He caught my mouth, silencing my protests, his hips moving in and out of me in a beautiful but demanding rhythm.

I was almost dying inside. Brett felt so good inside me. I’d never experienced sex like this.

“Billie,” he rasped out.

I opened my eyes, finding him watching me with a dark and intense look in his eyes. They narrowed, his hand flexing on my hip where he was holding me in place, anchoring me as he kept thrusting inside. “Are you going to run?”

My eyes widened. What was he doing? “What?”

He paused, as a delicious heat began building in my spine, swirling around me. “Are you going to run? Are you going to leave me behind?” His eyes glazed over and he lowered them, his mouth finding my shoulder as he yanked my shirt to the side, giving him more access to me. He tasted me, and I shivered from the sensations going through me. “Are you going to let the rest of us stay out in the open again?”

I couldn’t answer. I didn’t want to, but I also couldn’t.

Carnal hunger and pleasure was wrapping itself around me and it was tightening on me, squeezing me for another release, and I fought against it, not wanting to come so soon again. Not when he hadn’t come once.

“Billie,” he snapped, his hand catching my jaw and pulling my mouth over to him, but I gasped as he did that and my lips brushed against his, distracting him.

He moaned, his mouth sinking over me again. “You’re so tight. You feel so good.”

I needed more skin. More of him against me, and I began pawing desperately at his shirt. I wanted everything gone. My shirt. His. His pants. The rest of my clothes. I wanted nothing between us.

“Brett,” I panted, blind again in this new frenzied need.

His mouth was gone, and I whimpered, but he was taking all our clothes away.

His shirt. Mine. They were tossed to the side.

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