Forbidden Lyrics

by Jodie Larson

  I gulp hard, flexing my fingers against his hard muscles.

  Brecken’s only response is a smile before he leans forward and presses those soft lips against mine. I melt into his touch, turning pliable in his hands, letting him mold me the way he wants me.

  Like a freight train, an image from last night hits me hard, knocking the wind out of my lungs for a second time in a matter of minutes.

  I pull back, bracing my hands against his shoulders. “We kissed last night.”

  “Yes,” he says, cautiously.

  “That’s why you were upset this morning. Because I didn’t remember.”

  Breck nods. “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He shrugs but never lets me go. “I wanted you so bad last night, more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman. You were drunk, and I wasn’t about to take advantage. If your brother knew I spent the night here, he’d kick my ass. Even more so if he ever found out I used your inebriation to gain the upper hand.”

  Brecken truly is a gentleman. Not only did he take care of me, he knew my limits when I wasn’t of sound mind to remember them. Even knowing I’m forbidden, he put everything aside to make sure my needs were met.

  I run a finger down his arm, tracing the muscles beneath. “You asked me to get out of my clothes so I would be more comfortable?” He nods. Leaning back slightly, I peel the sweatshirt over my head. Somehow I had the foresight to put on one of my lace bras, the kind that pushes them up just right.

  His gaze falls from my eyes, traveling slowly down my neck before focusing on the newly exposed skin. I watch as his eyes darken, turning from slate gray to almost black. The weight of his stare is like a caress against my body, warming it against the chill of the air.

  “Touch me,” I plead, leaning forward to nip at his earlobe. Strong hands wrap around my waist before moving over the curves of my hips, caressing my ass and rounding my thighs. Whatever self-control I thought I had left when his lips make contact with my own again.

  Here, in my make-shift living room, I have everything I’ve ever wanted in my arms. This time, Myles isn’t here to stop us.

  Jesus, if I don’t stop soon, I won’t be able to. I’ve dreamt of this moment for nine years. Ever since that first taste, I’ve been addicted. Wanting more without the means to have it.

  Not this time.

  Now, it’s just us, fulfilling every fantasy I’ve ever dared to envision. Her smooth, milky white skin sliding beneath my palms as they make their way up her back has me shifting in my seat, trying to hide the growing bulge in my jeans. I don’t know where this is going, but one of us needs to make a decision soon.

  Lizzie reaches around and unclasps her bra, letting it fall between us.

  Decision made.

  “Brecken, please don’t push me away. I’ve wanted you for so long. Myles doesn’t have to know.” She peppers small kisses along my jaw, trailing up to my ear before drawing the lobe into her warm, wet mouth. “We can keep this our little secret.”

  A secret affair? Lizzie deserves so much more than that. “It doesn’t have to be secret.”

  Her eyes, lit with a muted fire, hold me in my place. “I won’t let you get hurt. Not again.”

  “I’m a big boy. I can’t handle anything your brother throws my way.”

  Lizzie reaches down between us, running her palm over the strain of my erection, forcing it to jump to life.

  “I can feel just how big you are.” Fucking little devil.

  Leaning forward, I take a rosy nipple into my mouth, sucking until it hardens with each lap of my tongue. Her smart mouth quiets, only letting out the occasional cry or moan as I lavish her breasts, teasing between my fingers and tongue. She’s clinging to my shoulders while pushing her chest forward, making it easier for me to give her all my attention.

  It’s when she grinds down on my lap, rubbing her sweet little pussy over my cock that I can’t take anymore. Not here, where anyone could walk into the house and find us. I don’t care if we’re in the ‘garage.’ The door is open and I’m not about to put Lizzie on display. Her body is for my eyes only.

  Picking her up, she instinctively wraps her legs around my waist while still clinging to my shoulders. I move my ministrations back to her mouth, exploring with my tongue as we tangle together.

  The benefit of working here the last week or so is that I know this house inside and out. Not once do we run into a wall or corner, though a pit stop was necessary on the hall table when she dug her heel into my ass, pressing more of her core into me.

  I’ll pay to replace the broken picture frames we knocked off the walls. And the lamp that’s lying in a hundred pieces on the floor.

  When we reach her bedroom, I kick the door shut behind me before leaning down to deposit her on the bed. Taking my newfound angle, I stand and appreciate the vision in front of me. Her skin is no longer white; marred with red marks from my mouth around her breasts and lips. God, those swollen lips…in my weaker moments, I’ve imagined them wrapped around my cock, taking me deep while feeling the vibrations of her moans as she sucks me dry. But seeing them here, I want to act out this fantasy.

  Not yet. And only if she wants to.

  “Let’s get you out of those clothes,” I say, reminiscent of last night’s words. Only this time, we’re both sober and aware of what’s going on.

  A lascivious smirk pulls at her lips as she scoots back on the bed, placing her feet on the edge and leveraging her hips up to slide the yoga pants down her legs.

  Fucking Christ.

  I stare, wide-eyed and eager, as she loops a finger into each side of her panties, teasingly pulling them down at a slow, torturous pace.

  “Lizzie, if you don’t want me to rip those off your body, I suggest you go faster.” Patience is not in my vocabulary right now. Not when the need to be inside her is all I can think about.

  She laughs, a quiet, almost musical sound. For a moment, I let it echo through my ears. Until her panties hit the floor and drive my attention back to where it’s needed.

  Picasso couldn’t have painted a better picture. Lizzie’s naked form, ready and waiting, is a portrait made especially for me. Her skin, flush with desire, satiny smooth, and all mine.

  “You are perfect,” I growl out, reaching behind my neck and pulling my shirt over my head.

  Her chest rises and falls faster with each breath, licking her lips and moving her hips to some need only she can feel.

  Yet.

  “So are you.” The weight of her stare momentarily stuns me as she takes her time admiring my naked torso, tracing the lines while her tongue darts out to run across her teeth.

  We’ll see if she still thinks so as soon as I get the rest of these clothes off. Not waiting another second, I pull down my jeans and boxers, kicking them off and tossing them across the room. Lizzie’s eyes grow wide as she takes in my bobbing erection; the tip already slick with pre-cum from her little tease.

  Before she has the chance to sit up, I kneel at the bed and pin her legs down to the sides, opening her up for me. She’s wet, glistening already from excitement. I don’t waste any time and dive right in, taking the first taste of her essence.

  Ecstasy, pure and simple. The sweetest thing I’ve ever savored on my tongue. Forbidden fruit always tastes better, knowing you’re not supposed to sample it. And yet, I can’t stop; using my tongue, my fingers, both at the same time, as I drive her closer to the edge. Her soft mewls fill my ears as I lightly suck on her clit, then harder when she digs her fingers into my hair, pushing me to where she needs me most.

  And I’m happy to oblige.

  It takes a herculean effort not to embarrass myself as she comes, yelling her release into the void of the room. Her walls squeeze my fingers as I stroke my tongue lightly over her quivering clit, still feeling the pulse as it courses through her body.

  I was wrong. This is heaven; laving at her opening, drinking in everything that is Lizzie as she comes down from her high. I’ve be
en fooling myself all these years, saying that I was fine without her, that following Myles’ command was for the best. No. Not anymore. She’s not seventeen and I’m not naïve enough to play by his rules. We’re adults, consenting to an adult relationship. Fuck what everyone else says.

  Lizzie pokes her head up, her hair a disheveled mess, rosy cheeks, and glossy, bright green eyes.

  “Oh, my God. That was amazing.” Her panting breaths make her breasts swell even more as I focus on the tiny tight nubs begging for attention.

  Pushing her to the middle of the bed, I crawl over her predatorily and seek out one nipple with my mouth. Her eyes roll into the back of her head as she clings to my shoulders.

  “Brecken, please. I need you.”

  Nudging her knees farther apart, I settle between her thighs, lining myself up against her entrance. Taking hold of my cock, I run it up and down that sweet pussy, coating the tip with her juices. She moans and moves her hips, seeking out more.

  I didn’t come prepared. Sex was not at the forefront of my thoughts when I left the house. Okay, it wasn’t what I was expecting. It did, however, occupy my thoughts during my freezing cold shower. But I’ve wanted this woman for far too long to feel her with anything between us.

  “I don’t have a condom,” I say over the tightness in my chest. Her answer could make or break this moment. What will I do if she says no? Looks like I’ll have to live with blue balls until the next opportunity presents itself.

  Her glowing eyes crease at the edges with her smile. “I don’t care.”

  Sunlight streams in through the window, illuminating this angel on the bed as if the heavens approve of our union.

  Without hesitation, I push forward, pressing ever so slowly into her. Every inch tests my restraint as it threatens to make this a hell of a lot shorter than I want it. When I’m seated to the hilt, I pause, letting her adjust to my length. She looks up at me with a sense of wonder and awe. Until that smirk comes out again.

  The little devil isn’t satisfied with my lack of movement. Instead, she takes it upon herself to move up and down my cock, squeezing me with each slide. I sit back on my heels and watch as she fucks herself. It’s hands down the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life.

  I help her along by grabbing her ass, guiding her, taking some of the weight as she continues to dig her heels into the bed and thrust onto my cock.

  “Lizzie, you’re amazing,” I say, my breaths already labored and I haven’t even done anything yet.

  “Fuck me,” she replies, trailing a finger between her breasts.

  Don’t have to tell me twice. I clutch her hips, stopping her movement and hold her in place while I drive into her with enough force to knock the headboard against the wall.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  The first bead of sweat forms on my brow as I continue this punishing rhythm. Lizzie clings to the sheets, the act forcing her breasts up even more. Leaning forward, I take a nipple into my mouth, biting down gently, but with enough force that she claws at my back, dragging her nails all the way down to my ass. She tightens her legs around my waist and I lean forward, my movements hastening my impending orgasm.

  Sex fills the air, musky and heady. I don’t want to stop. I want to live in her tight pussy, fucking her all day, every day. It’s like her body was made to fit mine, forming so perfectly into my hands and around my cock.

  “Lizzie, it’s too good. You’re too good.” My breathing turns shallow, labored, as I widen my stance above her, forcing her legs open even more. I slide in deeper and a whole new sensation rushes over me. Need and want fight for supremacy while the demand to fuck her into oblivion pushes me to keep going.

  The first pulse grips my cock, then another until it comes in a steady wave as she arches her back, crying out my name over and over again as if it was the answer to a silent prayer.

  Watching her face during orgasm is my new favorite sight. It’s what I want to experience every day for the rest of my life. And if I can’t, if I only have this one time, I can die a happy man, knowing that I’ve looked into nirvana and saw what true happiness is.

  It doesn’t take long for me to follow, pulling out quickly and coating her stomach with my cum. Lizzie smiles up at me, the flush across her face giving her a beautiful glow.

  “This was worth the wait,” she says softly, running her fingertips up and down my back.

  I lean back and hold up a finger before running to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth. After cleaning the sticky mess off her body, I crawl under the covers and she curls into my side, trailing her fingers along my chest.

  “How long have you been waiting?” I mimic her movements, going up her arm and feeling the goosebumps form under my touch.

  Lizzie hides her face into the crook of my neck. “Too long to say out loud,” she mumbles almost incoherently.

  I pull back with a laugh. “More than nine years?” She nods against my neck. Now I’m curious. “How long have you imagined this moment?”

  She doesn’t move, so I gently guide her on her back, tilting her face toward mine.

  “Since I was thirteen.”

  That makes me feel almost dirty. I don’t want to be reminded of our age gap. Not that it’s huge, but when she’s talking about imagining having sex with me when she was too young to know what it’s about, puts a sour taste in my mouth.

  I focus on the other meaning in her words instead. “You’ve had a crush on me since then?”

  “Yes,” she says softly. “You were always so nice to me. I think I’ve crushed on you for longer than that. It was in my teens that I realized what those feelings actually were. But I resigned myself into believing nothing would ever come of them. I mean, I’m Myles’ annoying little sister.”

  I silence her fears and self-doubt with my lips, exploring her mouth with my tongue, washing away any lingering uncertainty inside her head.

  We’re treading in deep water with this new turn of events in our relationship. I want to shout from the rooftops that I’ve finally met my match while trying not to add fuel to her fears. She’s afraid of what people will think, and I don’t want to push those fears to the side. They’re real to her, so I need to make them real for me.

  Not people. Just one person in particular, who can kiss my ass as far as I’m concerned.

  “You’re not annoying and you’re more than just Myles’ little sister. You are a beautiful, sexy grown woman.” I seal my words with another scorching kiss on her lips. “And I don’t want to hear your brother’s name mentioned again. Not when you’re naked and pressed up against me.”

  She giggles and the worries visibly disappear from her face.

  “Let’s keep this to ourselves for right now. No one has to know.” She sits up slightly, taking the sheet with her to cover her breasts. “Let’s just have fun. No pressure. No commitment. And if one of us determines it’s not right anymore, we’ll go back to being friends again. You’re only here for a couple months. No sense in letting feelings get in the way.”

  How can she be serious? She just told me she’d fantasized about sex with me for years and now she wants to treat this as some casual hook-up? Lizzie deserves more than what she’s asking. But there is a modicum of truth to her statement. I’m only here for a short amount of time, then I have to get back to my reality and so does she. She has a life and a career that I don’t fit into. Not right now.

  So if this is the only way that she’s going to let me into her life, then I’ll take her any way I can.

  “Okay. If one of us catches feelings, we’ll pull back and return to normal.”

  Seemingly satisfied with my answer, she snuggles up against me, smiling against my chest.

  “Alexa, play some music.”

  Who in the hell is she talking to? Just then, a beep and a robotic female voice repeats the request. Out of nowhere, the room is filled with a guitar intro, very country with a pop feel.

  When the verse hits, I realize what song it is. Sam Hunt�
��s “Body Like A Back Road” was all over the airwaves a few months ago, creating a mess of crazed women calling into the radio stations to request the song.

  I sing along to the chorus, nuzzling into her ear and grabbing her luscious ass. She twists in my arms and wraps a leg around my hip.

  Ding, ding. Round two it is.

  Surprisingly, I was able to finish up the flooring in Lizzie’s house, despite our little afternoon tryst. There wasn’t much to do. Only a few rows and then put up the new molding, which looks way better than the old stuff we tore down. She wasn’t kidding when she said the house hadn’t been updated in a while. But now she has beautiful hardwood floors and one less thing to worry about. I’m glad she painted the walls before we started tearing things up. I just wish I’d taken a before and after picture.

  When I walk through the door, Pax is sitting at the dining room table, shoving a piece of pizza into his face.

  “Late night. Get it all done?” I glance at the clock and realize how late it really is.

  Damn. We really did let time get away from us. “Yeah, it’s done. Looks a million times better and not like some old person’s home.”

  He nods. “Always a good thing. That mean you’re all done there?”

  “Nope. I have other plans that she doesn’t know about.” I’m sure she’ll be pissed when she finds out, but by that point, it’ll be too late and won’t want to return the stuff anyway.

  “You’re asking for trouble.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m helping a friend.”

  Pax eyes me skeptically. “Does helping a friend involve coming home with your shirt inside out?”

  I glance down at my shirt to confirm. Shit, it is. Stripping it over my head, I fix it before sliding it back on.

  “It was sweaty work.”

  “Uh huh. Did she have her shirt off too?” His lips quirk up at the sides. Jackass.

  “No.” Yes.