Tied to Him: My BFF - Steamy Romance Collection (BWWM): Captured by You/Possessed by You/Claimed by You (Naughty Best Friends Seduction Adventures Boxed Set Book 1)

by Rowena

  “Who did you call to come over?” he says between kisses and sucking, “who do you think can help you?”

  “No one,” I admit, and he breaks contact with my neck to flash me a wicked grin.

  Then his mouth finds the swell of my breasts visible outside of my bra and he lightly kisses them while he works to unclasp it.

  He succeeds, flinging my bra off to the side while he bends to enclose the whole of one breast with his mouth, then the other, flicking his tongue over my aching nipples.

  My body wants his mouth all over me, but there’s no way I’m about to say it; I’m still supposed to be resisting. This is not what we should be doing—we’re friends and should keep it that way!

  “Jake…”

  He stops and raises slightly to pull my panties down, and his eyes take in my middle while he flings my underwear aside.

  “Finally,” he says, staring. “I’ve always wondered if you’d be narrow or meaty there.” He raises his eyes to mine. “You’re beautiful,” he says, then he bends his head to my center and I cry out as his mouth reaches my pussy, at the first contact of his lips on mine. I writhe and grab the sheets as he begins to suck on me and flicker his tongue over my folds, teasing me here and there with a lick of my clit.

  I am completely lost to him.

  He eats me like a master, and I can’t stop the moans and cries bubbling from me, I can’t stop my body’s shudders and twists and thrusts toward him, the waves of pleasure taking over me.

  When he stops, I am helplessly panting and aching for more, and I don’t care if he dips his face back into my hot center or stuffs me with his dick—I need more stimulation right now.

  It is torture to have him just stare at me the next few seconds, and I know he is enjoying watching my wordless surrender.

  “You’re so wet,” he says in wonder, “and you look so fucking hot writhing and breathing like that.”

  Finally, he puts me out of my misery by burying his face in my pussy again, and joy and pain collide.

  I start to fuck his face—I need to bring an end to this growing insanity, this aching need that has taken over me and wiped out all sense and logic, this torturous pleasure running through my body and jerking it in all directions.

  “Oh god, Jake,” I say as I feel myself getting closer to the edge, and I fuck his face more furiously, grabbing his head with my hands as I press my parts against him.

  He slips a finger inside me and takes his tongue-bathing up a notch, skillfully twisting and flicking the pleasure organ over my folds in coordination with his flickering finger until I reach my peak.

  My moans explode in a massive climactic groan, and my body starts another flood.

  I lay there panting, unable to look at Jake or process anything but the nirvana clouding me as I slowly float back down to earth.

  I can feel my center still pulsating, my heart pounding, my body relaxing in warm gratitude.

  I feel sort of drunk in my ecstasy.

  After a while, I become completely aware of him again, and I start to feel embarrassed about being so exposed.

  More than that, I know the moment I lock eyes with him, he will take my heart—I just don’t know if it will happen before or after he takes my body, as he is clearly poised to do.

  V.

  JAKE

  I have never gotten so much pleasure from giving it before.

  I find myself thirsty for every change in Gina’s face, every sign of her joy. I want to give it to her over and over again, and I have every intention of doing just that, starting right now.

  My cock couldn’t get any harder, and I’m not sure she could get any wetter.

  I only hope I don’t cream before I get a good amount of time in—I want her so badly and I’m so horny, I don’t know how much more I can take.

  I position myself over her so my cock is knocking at the door of her pussy.

  I rub the tip of it over her, getting it slick with her juices, and she starts to come to life again.

  She has been refusing to look at me since her thunderous orgasm, but she can’t avoid me for long.

  I keep rubbing my head against her entrance, riling her up, and when she starts to moan again and I’m about to lose it, I push my cock in.

  I meant to tease her a little more and ease myself in slowly, but I want her covering all of me right now, so I bury myself inside her, relishing the sound of her crying out as I stuff my dick all the way in.

  She is tight and wet all around me, and I start to ease myself in and out, surrendering to her pussy massage.

  I close my eyes and savor the feel of every part of her—her warm body beneath me, her warm inner flesh squeezing me.

  I increase my rhythm.

  She puts her hand on my ass as I thrust into her with growing intensity, and the way she says, “Oh, Jake!” is different and reaches some part of my ear that seems directly connected to my dick, taking me close to the orgasmic edge, fast.

  I start to fuck her hard in a relentless rhythm while she screams my name.

  I push against her pussy, bending my head to her neck to take it in my mouth. The neck-kissing seems to drive her crazy, and I soon feel a wave of moisture wash over my throbbing cock, pushing me one step closer to the edge.

  I want to stick my dick in and out of her all night, but for now, the sights, sounds and smells of her overwhelm me, and my cock is ready to explode.

  She wraps her legs around me and squeezes me to her as I push even harder against her as I get milked, shooting my cum up her pussy in spout after spout.

  I feel her pulsating against me in a way that lets me know she came again, and we flood each other with our juices, squeezing out every morsel of pleasure as we both throb, our bodies tightening in final squeezes.

  I collapse on top of her when it’s over, trapping her beneath me, and I intend to keep her there as long as I can.

  I feel her arms wrap around me, and another sort of warmth washes over me.

  I awaken to odd movement, and before everything comes back to me, I manage to stop Gina before she escapes the bed.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” I ask, and when her eyes meet mine, I see a change come over her I can’t identify.

  “Water,” she says, and I’m not sure I believe her, so I get up too.

  “You don’t have to…”

  “I want to,” I say, and I move her along when she attempts to grab her clothes. She better get used to being naked around me.

  I can feel she’s got a lot tossing around her head as we head to the kitchen, and I want to assure her that what we did wasn’t just some casual thing—I didn’t just want to scratch an itch, and she wasn’t just the convenient means to do so.

  “I think you should stay here,” I say. “No more tenants.”

  She looks at me strangely but doesn’t answer.

  She pours a glass of water, and then wordlessly asks me if I want one.

  I shake my head and she closes the fridge.

  “You’re the ideal tenant,” I continue as she gulps down the water. “Besides, it’s much bigger than your place, and I’ll get you whatever else you need…”

  “But what would I do when you come back? I can’t just keep hopping in and out of this place depending on your schedule.”

  “The whole point is that you don’t leave, Gina. Stay here with me now, and stay with me if or when I get deployed again. Stay here and…” I want to say, “raise my baby,” but I don’t want to scare her—she might not be ready to accept that part yet. “All I do is think of you, Gina. I want you even closer to me, and even closer than this.” I indicate our nudity and what we’ve just done.

  There is something suddenly soft and vulnerable about her that is pulling at me, tugging at my heart. She is disturbing my spirit with her femininity in all its wonderful glory—she is driving me crazy! I can practically feel my testosterone levels raise as I respond to whatever crazy-making pheromones she’s letting off.

  I a
m overwhelmed by the need to take care of her, protect her, and make sure she never has to worry about anything ever again. I want to make her happy, see her face soften with love and joy. I want her to give everything she is to me, and to share all ups and downs with her.

  “What is it?” she asks, suddenly looking worried.

  I realize I am visibly panting hard.

  My cock has also blown up to size again, and among all the other things I want when it comes to her, I want to fuck her again right now.

  I lift her onto the counter.

  “Jake…”

  “Say you’ll stay with me, Gina, I need you,” I say as I wrap her legs around me.

  She starts to shake her head and I position the tip of my cock at her entrance.

  “You’re my best friend, Gina, always have been, always will be. I don’t plan to stop doing this,” I say as I push the head of my cock inside of her.

  She leans her head back slightly, and when she looks back at me, her eyes have turned into dark pools.

  I finally recognize what’s been going on with her—the thing that has made her suddenly seem so soft and delicate.

  “I love you too, Gina,” I say, and it comes out like a whisper as my throat constricts a bit with emotion.

  She flings her arms around my neck, and I feel her body relax in surrender to it all.

  I push myself all the way inside of her and start thrusting my cock against the now-familiar warmth of her slick walls as they squeeze against me.

  “I want everything with you, Gina, and I won’t stop doing this until I get it. I won’t stop then, either.”

  She raises her eyes to me, and when our eyes meet, I know she can see the truth in mine as I can see it in hers.

  She brings her lips toward mine and I gratefully accept her soft kiss.

  That extra intimate contact with her heightens the pleasure at my center and I fuck her pussy more vigorously, slamming into her while holding her tight to me, my hands cupping her ass cheeks.

  Her lips slip away from mine as she moans.

  “God, I love you too, Jake,” she says, and those words take me over the edge.

  I push into her in an increased rhythm, and she takes all my cum as I explode inside of her once again.

  She holds on to me while I come down, and I think about all the days we have ahead of us—all the positions to try and the places to try them in—and I swell with joy.

  “So you will stay with me?” I say after a few seconds, and she kisses my cheek.

  “Of course, Jake. I’m always here for you. You know I’ll do whatever you want.”

  Her words make me smile, and a golden warmth floods me.

  And I might be crazy, but I feel as if my seed has already started to grow in her.

  END

  POSSESSED BY YOU

  By

  ROWENA

  TIED TO HIM: MY BFF SERIES

  Cover photo by Marina Svetlova.

  Eromantica Publications

  First Edition: February 2015

  SYNOPSIS

  Brandon can’t take it anymore.

  His sexy, longtime friend, Lola, needs to crash at his place for a while, and he’s not sure how he’ll handle his secret desire for her.

  He wants to take advantage of the situation, but he’s not sure where to start.

  Soon, his dilemma is taken care of for him by a sleep disorder, and Lola finds herself at the mercy of her old friend’s lust, and actually longing for the moment he finally takes her hard and without protection.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  I: BRANDON

  II: LOLA

  III: BRANDON

  IV: LOLA

  I.

  BRANDON

  Lola friend-zoned me a long time ago.

  From the day I met her, at eight years old on the playground in elementary school, and I tried to kiss her on the cheek, she drew the line in the sand. She clocked me so hard that, whenever I heard some dude hits like a girl, my first thought was that he could knock out a tooth.

  Lola and I quickly got over our one-sided mini-scuffle and we’ve been friends ever since, once I apologized to her and she made me promise not to try that shit again while she held me by the shirt.

  Yes, eight-year-old Lola actually said those words: “Promise you won’t try that shit again and I’ll forgive you.”

  She still cusses like a sailor, and I eventually learned that she got it from her mom, who, it became clear, never bothered with parenting her much.

  Lola was allowed to do whatever—she snuck out at night and didn’t get in trouble, she started drinking alcohol at the age of fifteen, she experimented with various drugs.

  She even told me her mom was the one to introduce her to pot.

  Anyway, things have remained platonic between us since that day on the playground, despite us getting so close over the years, and I know she hasn’t changed her mind about our friendship, but my mind never changed—I just mastered hiding my desire for her and I’ve endured not getting a chance to be with her because she at least lets me be around her as one of her closest friends. I’ll take that, for now.

  I know I’m the first person she comes to see when she’s in town, the first person she spills all her guts to about how things are going in her life.

  She’s super adventurous and goes exploring one way or another, in this country or some other, for various lengths of time, but she always comes back, and when she does, rushes to tell me all about her latest trip.

  It’s both torture and pleasure all rolled into one to have her and not be able to have her.

  She’s been my friend forever, but I’ve wanted to plow her forever, too. I want to bury myself balls-deep in her, but I can’t tell her that, can’t let it on in any way for fear she’d completely lock me out, and I’ll lose the privileges I currently have. The thought of no longer having the chance to hear her voice as she tells me some crazy story is unbearable—my eyes live for the sight of her, my ears ache for her sort of raspy but totally sexy voice as she calls to check in.

  I may never have a chance to claim her in my bed, but in this small way, Lola is mine.

  While her distance drives me crazy, Lola’s proximity is even worse. At least when she’s on the road, somewhere far away from me I can distract myself, but when she’s so near me and I can see her sweet, round face, and take in her soft, curvy body, or watch her chest rise and fall as she breathes, my brain starts to feel a bit scrambled.

  She is currently opposite me talking about her latest adventure and all I can think about is how much I want to kiss those rapidly moving lips.

  Her smile gives me joy like you wouldn’t believe, and I dread the moment she decides we’ve chatted enough and heads for the door.

  I wish I could keep her with me forever.

  I take in her form, noticing small changes. Her hair is slightly longer now, for example, and her style of clothes has changed a bit.

  She is still as beautiful as the day I met her though back then she had lighter skin, round cheeks and awesomely thick, curly hair.

  Now her skin’s a glowing brown, and her cheeks are still round, but her hair is super-straight.

  She told me some time ago she relaxed it, then went on to explain what she meant and I checked out. I figure I got the gist of it—she sort of permanently straightened her hair, and from what I know of her, she probably did it to blend in more with the folks around her.

  She bugged her mom to let her do it for a while, but her mom told her it was an unnecessary expense, despite the teasing Lola got about her unruly curls, and didn’t let her do it till she was fourteen. She has kept it that way since. Her mom made her pay for it from day one—had her work for neighbors or whoever would hire a fourteen-year-old.

  She told me all of this like it makes a difference. Whatever. I like her hair curly or straight, and I sure as hell don’t care about an extra five or ten pounds. For god’s sake, I’ve been in love with this girl since the day she clocked me.<
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  But I knew what she looked like mattered to her a lot.

  She grew up in a trailer park, the only child of a fair-skinned, blond, blue-eyed woman who still couldn’t guess who Lola’s dad could be based on appearance, since she’d fucked so many black guys.

  Lola didn’t end up white, and everybody could see it, and she’s had to endure all sorts of harsh looks and words because of it.

  Still, Lola has always had a strong personality, a strength about her that persisted despite all the things that fucked with her. She doesn’t wallow in self-pity over anything—she’d tell me matter-of-factly about stuff that happened to her, and I’d sit there in horror or seething rage while she looks like she’s only telling me what the weather’s like outside.

  She’s strong, but she’s been dealing with an identity crisis for a long time, beyond what most of us go through generally because of her status as the only brown girl amongst ignorant white trash.

  To top it off, her mom finally got arrested and sent to jail for a couple of charges, so Lola got sent to foster care at the age of sixteen and lived in a group home through eighteen, then got kicked out into the world for aging out of the system.

  She’s been wandering ever since.

  Her mom’s still in jail—at least for another year—and I know that despite everything, all her excitement over potential adventures and not having any responsibilities, Lola feels lost and alone.

  She needs some grounding. She needs a purpose. She needs to know she is not alone. And I can help her out.

  I can’t believe my luck when Lola asks me for a favor at the end of our catch-up session. Of course, I don’t hesitate to grant it.

  “Thanks again for letting me crash here,” says my beautiful couch-surfer extraordinaire.

  Lola has been living sort of like a drifter, and before she goes on her next road trip, she has asked to stay with me for a week.

  Believe it or not, she has never crashed with me before, and I have tried not to think about it and take it personally when she found other people to crash with while in the area.