by K. I. Lynn
I sneak across the hall and stand outside his door. It’s silent inside, and I wonder if he’s asleep.
Only one way to find out.
Slowly, I twist the knob and push the door open.
He’s awake, sitting in just his shorts with his laptop on his lap, headphones on.
As soon as he notices my movement, his head snaps up. The illumination from his laptop highlights his green eyes, which seem to glow, thanks to the thick black frame of his glasses.
Damn, I forgot how sexy he looks in those.
He takes off his headphones. By his expression he’s surprised I’m here, which makes me nervous.
He’s been chasing me for the last year, ever since I came to him, just like this.
Maybe it’s déjà vu, but it feels so much like then.
He closes his computer and sets it on his nightstand. His tongue wets his lips as he watches me.
Then, he reaches out for my hand. “Sit.”
Fuck.
I can’t help it. I straddle his hips, right over his cock which seems to suddenly harden beneath me.
I rock against him, staring straight into his eyes. “Finish what you started here a year ago.”
His mouth pops open, eyes darkening.
I reach out and slide his glasses off, setting them down on his laptop. “You won’t be needing these.”
I may have come to him, asked him to fuck me, but I’m still in control, and I make sure he knows it as I trace the line at the edge of his shorts. I grab onto the band and pull, inching them down. He shudders beneath me, his hands running up my thighs.
When my fingers brush against his shaft, he bucks, pressing right against my clit.
It’s hot and as I pull it out, I see how hard and ready he is to give me what I need.
Only three days, but it feels like a lifetime since I’ve had him in my hands.
His fingers reach my shorts and dip in, slipping across my slit.
He smirks at me. “How did my little pussy get so wet?”
I grip his cock with one hand and yank his shorts off with the other.
“You know damn well how. Maybe I’ll get back at you and leave you on the verge,” I say, taunting him.
His hand grips down on my hip while he shoves two fingers into my pussy, making me gasp. “You really think I’m going to let you get away? I’m bigger and stronger than you.”
Cocky jerk.
I tighten my grip, and he cringes. “I know your weak spots.” I loosen up and continue to work his shorts down.
When his whole cock is out, balls as well, I stop.
I’m transfixed, unable to look away. It twitches, and I lick my lips. The damn thing is hypnotic.
How did he ever get this thing all the way inside me?
There’s a clear drop of fluid coming out of the tip, and I can’t stop myself. I lean down and lick it.
I have little experience with giving head, but that doesn’t stop me from swirling my tongue around the tip.
He jerks beneath me, cursing as he throws his hands up, then down and into my hair.
He’s so big I can’t get much in, so I use my tongue, which only makes him move more.
“Fuck, Kira! So fucking good.”
I look up at him, and my pussy twitches. His eyes are wild. Pupils blown, mouth open. Muscles so tight like he’s ready to spring on me. It makes me moan around him, sending vibrations through his shaft.
I swallow around him, and it forces him to make the sexiest grunts and groans.
He pulls me off him with little effort and flips me under him. “Shit. Kitty, you’re going to get a mouth full of milk if you keep that up.”
I draw in a breath as my head lands on a pillow. “And?”
A growl-like sound vibrates in his chest before he slams his lips to mine, our teeth crashing together with the force.
Lips. Tongue. Hot and wet.
Grinding.
Fuck.
He slips my panties and shorts to the side and slides his length against my pussy. He’s panting as he pulls back and looks down. We both stare, watching the tip of his cock pop up between my puffy lower lips.
Each zing on my clit makes my hips move against him. The zinging sensation moves through my body with each thrust.
I grab hold of his shirt, fisting it, pulling his mouth back down. An action that only makes it worse. Or better.
Everything is mixing together. Intensity ramping up.
His teeth nip down my jaw, tongue licking down my neck before biting down on his favorite spot.
He moves, making room to pull my tank top off.
No longer pressing against my clit, I let out a little whimper. His mouth continues down my chest until he’s flicking my nipple with his tongue.
I’m a confused mess caused by the wavering strength of pleasure. He’s pulsing it, drawing it out longer.
With a final pulling bite and suck of one of my very hard and aroused nipples, he moves down.
All I’ve ever heard about is how guys hate to go down on girls.
Not Brayden.
He seems to make it his life’s mission to eat me out as often as he can.
Those dark, almost dangerous eyes look at me, then he yanks my shorts and panties off, tearing them down my legs.
“Jesus!” I nearly jump off the bed when he dives down, latching onto my pussy and digging in.
I squirm from the force of the sensitivity as he sucks on my clit, tongue licking at my opening. I fist his hair, unable to control myself.
“Brayden!”
He sucks on my whole pussy and runs his tongue up my slit.
“Shhh, baby. Don’t want the parents to hear you coming, do you?”
A strange moaning whimper makes its way out of me.
I can’t stop moving against him. So right. Tense. His hands keep me right where he wants me.
Unable to move.
Forced to take everything he gives.
I’m a panting, writhing wreck. So freaking close to coming, but it also feels miles away.
An almost numbing sensation.
My back arches, body shaking. His fingers move faster in and out than his cock ever could.
No more thoughts. Only feels.
His hands.
His tongue.
Him.
All of him.
My vision goes blurry, the ache between my legs escalating.
Suddenly he’s gone, and I’m about to go crazy or break.
“Make sure you come all over the sheets.”
Before I can even think to say something, his lips are on mine and his cock is stretching me open.
And I’m screaming into his mouth as I stare into his dark eyes.
My whole body convulses.
Uncontrollable.
Unbelievable shocks that light up everything.
Quaking bundle of pleasure-intensified nerves.
It doesn’t stop.
I’m whimpering, thrashing in his arms, begging him with my eyes to slow down.
Before I can even register, his dick is out and he’s slamming it back in. Smacking into my still shuddering cunt.
“Come on, baby. One more time.”
“Haven’t . . . stopped.” Tears stream down my cheeks, and I pray he comes before I go insane.
His thrusts somehow pick up in pace, and he cages me in his arms.
“I know. Your pussy won’t stop squeezing me.”
“Just . . . come.”
He hooks his arm under my knee, making my eyes roll back as he hits even deeper.
“Where?” He slows down to long, deep strokes, his hand locked onto the base of my skull, keeping my gaze to him.
“I . . . I . . .”
“Where, Kira?”
His words come out in a desperate growl, while my own are a high-pitched keening.
“In my pussy.”
Teeth lock down on my neck, stifling him as he cries out, holding me closer, tighter than he ever has before. I’m clen
ching him so tight I can feel each throbbing eruption deep inside me. His whole body jerks from the force, and my pussy feels like it’s sucking him in.
He collapses down on me, his weight making it hard to breathe.
“Brayden.” I tap on his shoulder and he pulls his knees up, taking some of the weight off while keeping his cock buried.
His chest is still pressed against mine, but I can breathe again.
It takes a few minutes for us both to calm down. When he is calm again, he sits up, back onto his haunches.
He looks down at me with a goofy smile and heavy eyes.
I narrow my gaze at him. “You think you won, don’t you?”
He wets his lips and nods. “Oh, yeah.”
“You di—” I suck in a breath as his thumb rubs against my clit. My walls clamp down on him. “Not fair.”
“I know your weak spots,” he says with a smirk.
His hips give a little thrust, and he stares down to where we’re still joined. The look on his face . . . Jesus, I want him to fuck me all over again.
“Come on, pull out.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want to leave.”
“What?”
He looks up at me. “You don’t want me to leave.”
“Come on, jerk face, I need to clean up the mess you made.”
“Mess I made? Oh, baby, the huge wet spot under your ass is all you.” He pulls back, his cock slowly pulling out. The second he’s gone, I let out a whimper. It feels like a light has been turned off in me.
His cock bounces, shiny and still hard, making the void in me even greater and the calling to shove him back in even stronger.
“Fuck. That is the best sight ever.”
I’m about to ask him, but then I feel the liquid sliding down my ass cheek.
He groans, brow furrowed, tortured almost, and he grabs his cock. I look down, watching as he tries to scoop the come back up to my now gaping opening.
The guy who never fucked anyone without a condom has fucked me bare multiple times in the last few days, and is now playing with it.
“One day, I’ll stuff you so full of come . . .” He trails off, lost for a few minutes before looking up at me. Something clicks in his brain, I can see it in the change of his expression, and he pulls away. “Let me find a towel or something.”
I lay here as he gets up and sneaks out into the hall. The things he said, or rather, the last thing he said, rings out in my head. He didn’t finish the thought, but my pussy twitched, knowing where he was going. The primal level thoughts.
Fuck, was he really thinking like that? Breeding? Making me pregnant?
One day, he said.
But why does him wanting that, even one day, turn me on?
Avoiding Brayden is easy when he’s at work, and I’ve even managed to avoid him at night, thanks to my girls. Early Friday morning I found him in his room, dressed for work and packing up some clothes to head back to Columbus for the weekend.
I lean on the door frame as he strips his bed, the sheets still stained from the other day.
“Laundry?” I watch as he stuffs the sheet into a bag and not into his laundry basket.
“Nope.”
“Then what are you doing?” I ask.
He smirks at me and turns it to show the large spot. “Souvenir.”
“That’s gross.”
He smirks and walks up to me. He leans down, so close that his lips are millimeters away from my own. “Keep telling yourself that, baby. I know you want to make another one.”
I mash my teeth together and step back. “Cocky asshole.”
The next few days passed without contact from him. Didn’t even text or call. Well, he did send another devastating picture of his fuck-hot body.
This morning he returned.
What is with Brayden and these three-day cycles? Three days gone, three home, and three gone again before coming back.
I know he’s working and trying to get his apartment set up, but there’s just something about it that grates on me.
The problem is admitting why it bothers me.
When he’s here I want him, while at the same time I want him to leave.
With him gone, I thought the anxiety would lessen, but instead, with each hour that passed the itch, the anticipation of the next time, increased.
I hate this. I hate that all he has to do is walk in the door and my legs are ready to spread willingly for him.
He got home an hour ago. and I’m trapped all alone with him. Our parents are at work, and while Ryan did come home this past weekend, he left yesterday.
The little shit even revealed to me why I haven’t seen his brotherly ass around—he’s giving his best friend space to defile his sister.
I’m not sure I love my brother anymore.
One day, big bro . . . Payback is a bitch.
With the knowledge of Brayden returning today, Mom left a list of chores for each of us to do. There wasn’t much on them, but enough to keep us from going at it the moment he walked in. Especially since I was teasing him over text yesterday.
I got him back with a pic of me in my bikini.
I’ve been dusting this table for way too long. The surface is so shiny I can see my reflection.
All that I’m doing is moving my hand back and forth across the wood, because I’m glued to the scene happening outside the window beside the table.
Brayden shirtless as he mows the backyard.
He’s got a hat on—a rarity for him—and his headphones as he cuts path after path through the grass.
The only sounds I hear are the racing beats of my heart and the loud buzz of the mower.
It’s hot and sunny, and I can’t tear my eyes away from the sweat rolling down his naked chest. I want to lick it up, lick him all over.
Fuck.
He wasn’t working five minutes outside when his shirt came off. Now I’m hypnotized by him again, watching his shiny muscles strain, pushing the mower around. I’m so entranced I don’t even notice when he turns it off.
I jump as he walks toward the house. Frantic energy buzzes through me as I search for something to help me look busy.
As I stare down at the cloth in one of my hands and the Pledge in the other, I want to slam my head against the wall.
I take a calming breath and look back out. He’s taken his hat and headphones off, and drops them along with his phone, onto one of the lounge chairs.
I’m drawn in again, watching with rapt attention as he pulls his shoes and socks off. I half expect him to keep stripping, but he leaves his jeans on. They sit so low on his waist, showcasing that perfect V of his that I want to lick and nibble on.
Two large steps and his arms draw above his head as his body launches forward, arching into the pool. When he surfaces, he shakes his head, flinging water around. He seems to struggle in the water for something before holding up a wad of dark blue and tossing it onto the concrete.
Fuck.
That’s his jeans, which means . . .
Look away! Look away! I yell at myself.
It doesn’t work. I should have done that twenty minutes ago. Now is too late. I’m aroused past rational thought.
What was I saying about wanting him to leave? No, I want him to come.
Inside me.
All over me.
Give me the soul-shattering pleasure only he can.
I drop the can of Pledge onto the floor and press my fingers between my legs.
He swims a couple of laps, then stands in the shallow end.
The buzzer to the dryer goes off, startling me, reminding me that I just washed all of the pool towels. When I look back, he still hasn’t noticed me. He’s barely looked toward the house, but maybe he already knows.
I gawk at him as he climbs the steps out of the pool, the water running down his sexy-ass muscles. The boxer briefs he’s wearing are clinging to him, accentuating everything.
Especially the one thing I’m dying for.
He
picks up the lump that is his jeans and spreads them onto one of the chairs. Then, he grabs his stuff and heads to the sliding glass door.
I no longer have my busy items in hand, but my pussy and nipple instead. “Shit.” I frantically search for my dusting tools.
Instead of heading my way, to the left, he heads right, into the kitchen.
I don’t even think as I set the stuff down and walk the same way.
When I get there, he’s at the sink, gulping down a huge glass of water.
Droplets cling to his skin, and a puddle forms beneath him.
“You’re making a mess,” I say, gaining his attention.
After a little jump in surprise, he turns to me and smirks. “No mess yet, just water. Nothing a towel can’t fix.”
I continue toward him and reach out to his waist. He quirks a brow at me, his abs tensing.
“You’re getting water everywhere.” I grab onto his waistband and pull.
“Whoa.”
I fall down to my knees and work the wet cloth down his hips, over his biteable ass, and the slab of man meat that’s getting bigger with each tug.
I’m left eye to cock. It’s staring at me, getting harder by the second and begging me to take him in my mouth.
Long, thick, veiny . . . How can something so weird looking turn me on so much and make my pussy so wet I’m probably dripping on the floor with him?
Salivating, on my knees in front of him. Lined up with the head, I lean forward, mouth open, and flick the tip of his cock with my tongue, then close my lips around him.
“Shit,” he hisses, hips bucking, pushing him further into my mouth.
He’s so big and I take as much of him as I can until I’m gagging, which is about halfway. After a few times moving up and down, I pull back and draw in a deep breath.
“Fuck, you’re big.”
I glance up at him, and he’s staring down at me with that lust-filled look I’ve begun to crave. He reaches out and brushes my hair back. “Damn, baby . . . This is now one of my top five favorite views.”
I wrap my fingers around his shaft, pumping him, taking in how good he feels in my hand.
“What are some of the others?”
“No worries, Kitty,” he says as his fingers run down my cheek. “The top fifty . . . top hundred are all of you.”
