Legally Yours (Spitfire Book 1)

by Nicole French

  “You tasted so good, Skylar,” he murmured against my neck. He trailed his nose in and out of the shallow lines of my skin, around my ear, which he bit lightly, causing me to moan. “You tasted so fucking sweet. I could have eaten you all damn night, baby, like a goddamn feast.”

  I moaned again, this time louder as my hips jerked against our hands as he added his own pressure to my ministrations, broad fingers moving in time with mine.

  “Do you want to hear what I really wanted to do to you?” His voice had deepened impossibly further, hypnotizing me with its sensuous baritone.

  I melted against his warm body, lost in the rhythm of our hands and the images he was putting in my mind. Unable to do anything but hum in approval.

  “I wanted to tear the rest of your clothes off you, Skylar,” he told me as he passed his other hand up my waist and rested it comfortably over my right breast, kneading it softly and causing my nipples to rise erect. “I wanted to run my tongue over every inch of this beautiful fucking body.”

  “Mmmm,” I groaned, thrusting my hips against our hands, which were at this point more controlled by his movements than by mine.

  The hand on my breast trailed its fingers around the curve and back up to the nipple, which he pinched lightly and tugged, force it to elongate under his precise touch. He pinched it again, the time a little harder, causing me to jerk under his touch.

  “You like that, baby?” he murmured. His teeth clenched again around my ear lobe, this time harder to match the pleasurable pain he was dispensing to my nipple. My hips thrust forward in time with the rhythm of his hand. I was so close.

  “I wanted to fuck you so hard, Skylar,” he told me, his voice now quaking with desire. I could feel his hard length pushing into my back, which only pushed me closer the edge. “I wanted to spread your legs and shove my cock in you so fucking deep. I wanted to feel every part of you, with nothing in between us—absolutely nothing, baby. I wanted to feel you shake and squeeze every last drop me into you, and then I wanted to feel you come, baby. I wanted to make you come, and come, and come, and come, and come!”

  With his last words, which were really more of a command, and a small grunt of his own, Brandon quickly pushed my limp hand aside. He seized the now-throbbing clit firmly between two fingers and squeezed.

  “Oh, Jesus CHRIST, BRANDON!” I yelped as every muscle in my body seized. I launched up onto my toes, shoving against his warm body as I lost every ounce of control I had left. The hand at my breast dropped to anchor my waist to him while the quakes tremored through me.

  “That’s it, baby, that’s it,” Brandon purred into my ear as he softened his touch, rubbing out the remainder of my orgasm as I continued to shake in his arms. “Let it come, let it go.”

  Stricken in his arms, I quivered for several more seconds until I fell backward, weak and noodle-like. I sighed, dazed and unable to think in my wringed out form. But he wasn’t finished yet.

  He stood up, holding up my weight under my elbows while he rotated us around so that I was facing the table with him behind me. He reached forward to push a few of the small contraptions out of the way. Then he ran his hands lightly over my back and pushed me gently down so that I was lying on the hard surface, my face turned to one side as I lay limp with my eyes still closed.

  “All right. Now I want you to stop thinking about something I wanted to do. I want you to think about what I’m doing to you right now, Skylar,” his deep voice rumbled against my shoulder as a large hand stroked the length of my back, down over my backside and back up. “Imagine yourself, bent over this table, my cock hard between your legs. You make me so fucking hard, Skylar, I swear to fucking God, I’m going to tear this beautiful body in two.”

  I groaned, unable to keep the noise at bay as his words penetrated through my orgasm-soaked daze. Vaguely I registered the brief absence of his skin on mine as I heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper. A second or two later, my body felt the return of his warmth.

  “God, you’re so ready for me, baby,” he said, pressing his long length against my drenched sex, rubbing the tip against my entrance until I thought I would literally scream for more. His thumb replaced his member briefly, dipped into me.

  His thumb trailed up a few inches to massage my other puckered opening, then taking me by surprise when Brandon started to push it in. “One day I’m going to fuck you here, too,” he said, his voice vibrating against my ear, which he nipped, causing a sharp intake of breath. “That’s a promise, Red. You won’t know when, but one day I’m going to take this ass, right along with every other inch of you.”

  He slid his thumb all the way in to his knuckle and I gasped at the foreign fullness while he nudged at my other opening with his other, much larger member.

  “Are you ready for me, Red?” he rumbled. “Do you want my cock?”

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  “Say it,” he said, sliding the tip—but only the tip—into me before tortuously pulling it out again. He continued to work his thumb in and out of my ass, causing me to groan involuntarily against the countertop, both in ecstasy and frustration.

  “Ah, Brandon!” I moaned.

  “Say it, baby,” he demanded behind me. “Beg me for it.”

  I pressed my forehead against the table and braced my hands on the countertop, pushing back against him, trying to force him in. He resisted, but kept up the excruciatingly teasing with his thumb and the tip of his erection. God, I wanted him so badly. More than I had ever wanted anything. “Please,” I moaned as I pushed back again. “Please, I want your cock.”

  “All right, hush now,” Brandon said against my ear as his big body covered me.

  He slipped his other hand around my hip to play with my clit, quickly bringing me to the edge yet again while his cock slid in, one excruciatingly slow inch at a time. Spreading my still-sensitive tissues and giving me a few moments to adjust to his considerable size. He wasn’t small, that was for sure. As ready as I was for him, I still needed time to adjust.

  “Ah,” he grunted as he was finally able to push in completely. Then he started to move, and started to match his pace in the with maddening penetration of his thumb.

  “Do you remember?” he whispered gruffly as he continued to move in slightly faster circles that matched the rhythm of the finger in my ass and the others on my clit. My hips started to move again of their own accord—his accord, since I apparently had no control over any of my reactions to him. I clawed at the table and moaned.

  “Do you remember?” he barked again. “What I did to you tonight? How I fucked you hard against that wall, and then made you come apart in my arms? Do you like how I’m taking your pretty little ass with my finger?”

  “Ummmm, yessss,” I hissed as he thrust still deeper into me.

  “Should I take it now with my cock, Skylar?” The hand on my clit briefly swept around to give my backside a brief slap and cupped one cheek roughly to leverage himself even deeper. I clawed at the table—for release or escape, I wasn’t quite sure. His hand returned to my clit, the other steadily working my ass while he pummeled into me, harder and harder, offering more increasingly dirty suggestions of what he wanted to do to that aforementioned body part. Rather than alarming me, the ideas only turned me on even more, sending me spiraling toward yet another orgasm with every flick and thrust of his fingers.

  “Jesus!” I panted as my hands grasped desperately for purchase on the cold surface of the table. “Oh, God, uhhh, Brandon, I’m…so…close!”

  He rammed into me even harder, continuing delicious rhythm with his other fingers, clasping my pelvis between them like I was one of his power tools.

  “Would you like that, baby?” he asked as he continued his assault. matching his words to his rhythm. “Would you like my cock in your ass? Going…so…deep?”

  “AAaaah!” I screamed, his words driving me past my tipping point as my body began to convulse and tighten around him. “I’m…oh, shit, I’m coming!”

  “That’
s it, baby,” he encouraged, even while his voice betrayed a break in his controlled facade. “Fuck, Skylar, FUCK!” he cried, thrusting in one, two, more times before he was forced to remove his hands and collapse heavily on top of me, his face buried into my hair as we both, at last, found our release together.

  We laid there, his large body covering my smaller one splayed across his table, for what might have been a few minutes or an hour. At some point, when the adrenaline coursing through my body finally started to ebb, Brandon sighed.

  “I don’t know what gets into me when I’m around you, Red. I’m like a goddamn teenager again, ready to go at it anytime, any place.”

  With a brief kiss to the back of my neck, Brandon pushed off me, and turned to dispose of his condom in the small waste bin under one of the tables and wash his hands in the sink in a corner. I turned around so I could admire his fully naked form for the first time. I was right about the home gym. It was obvious that he was a serious athlete from the sinewy muscles that curved around his shoulders, the stacked lines of a six-pack over his trim torso, the perfectly taut form of his ass.

  He turned around met my frank stare with a smirk. “See something you like, Red?”

  I grinned, but I didn’t stop ogling. “Actually, yeah. You do pretty well in your birthday suit, Mr. Sterling.”

  His smirk intensified as he returned to my side and leaned back casually against the counter, making no move to cover himself. He was clearly confident in his body, seemingly unaffected by the fact that he was stark naked in a glass house. I, on the other hand, now coming down from the highs of multiple orgasms, was not quite so blasé about it.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked sharply as I crouched down to retrieve my clothes from the floor.

  I stood up, clasping my shirt against the front of my body. “Ah, just getting dressed.”

  I could feel the flush up my body, which only intensified with the knowledge that I didn’t have my clothes on to hide its spread. Brandon reached out and yanked the shirt out of my hands and tossed it back onto the floor.

  “Did you really think I was done with you yet?” he asked as he moved in front of me and, with a quick, graceful movement, caught me by the backs of my legs and lifted me up to straddle his waist. Before I could speak, he captured my mouth with a deep kiss, languidly turning his tongue around mine until I was breathless. I gripped the ends of his hair and yanked. Suddenly the fact that I was completely naked didn’t matter so much anymore.

  “I told you, Red,” he said as he broke away, equally gasping for breath. “Like a goddamn teenager.” And with that, he turned and carried me out of the workshop and back down the two flights of stairs to his bedroom, where he could continue to command my body yet one more time that night.

  ~

  Chapter 24

  I woke up alone the next morning tucked securely into soft, white warmth. What little hours I’d slept had been blissful, considering that Brandon’s bedding consisted of a massive down-comforter, multiple down-filled pillows, and the softest cotton sheets I’d ever touched. The bright sun flashed through a row of bay windows next to the bed, through which I could see the snow-covered tree tops flashing gold in the early morning light.

  I rolled to my back and stared up at a white, box-beam ceiling while I returned to full consciousness. A sleek silver alarm clock on the nightstand read six-thirty AM. By my count, that meant I had been asleep for barely four hours. Brandon had made it his personal mission to give us both at least two more orgasms before we succumbed to sleep. I was sore, but in the best possible way.

  The door to the en suite bathroom opened, and Brandon strode out, fully dressed in a navy suit pants and white-and-blue gingham shirt that made his eyes pop in the morning light. I smiled, and a heart-stopping grin in response. He walked to where I lay and leaned down for a lingering kiss. I was immediately engulfed in his fresh scent. It was something he put in his hair, I realized, that carried that unique almond aroma.

  “Morning, beautiful,” he said as he stood back up. He walked across the room and entered an enormous walk-in closet that looked about the size of my living room. I sat up, clutching the sheets to my still naked body, and peered through the doorway to where he was selecting a tie out of drawer full of them.

  After he found one he liked, a light blue with a discreet paisley pattern, he walked back to the bed and sat down next to me while he started tying it around his neck. The blue matched his eyes perfectly, and my insides gripped a little at the effect. The man was apparently a fox at all hours of the day. Seriously out of my league.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he said as he wrestled with the fabric. “I just have a meeting in Toronto at ten, so I have to get going. You can go back to sleep, stay until whenever. Stay the week if you want. You could be here when I get back. Exactly like this.”

  He waggled his eyebrows mischievously, and I giggled. His gaze roved openly, taking in all of the curves and parts of my body not covered by the sheet. “You have incredible hair, do you know that?”

  I pulled a bedraggled lock off my shoulder and examined it critically. “Sure, sure. They call me carrot top.”

  Brandon batted my hand away, forcing me to let my hair drop.

  “Stop,” he ordered. “It’s the color of a damn sunset.” He leaned into me, tugging the strand in between his fingers to examine it. “There are about a million different shades of red and yellow and orange in here.”

  “All the color of varieties of orange juice,” I proclaimed, but closed my mouth when he frowned at me.

  “I said stop,” he said with a slight bark. “Do you always have such a hard time taking compliments?”

  I shrugged. “Well, I am a quarter Jewish, you know.”

  Brandon reached behind him and grabbed one of the goose-down pillows from the bed, swiftly bringing it around to whack me in the head.

  “Aaah!” I shrieked. “You stop!”

  He only whacked me again, and then proceeded to reach under the sheets and tickle me mercilessly.

  “No!” I yelled in between whoops of laughter. “That’s…not…fair!” I glanced at the clock again. It was almost six-forty-five. “Aren’t you going to be late? What time is your flight?”

  “Why, you wanna get rid of me?” He quirked his mouth shyly as he sat back up and finished tugging the Windsor knot into place. “Whenever I’m ready. The plane’s on stand-by at Logan.”

  “Ah,” I echoed. “The plane.”

  His brows furrowed as he finished his tie and he leaned in to kiss me again gently on the mouth.

  “Skylar, I won’t make a big thing of it because I know it makes you uncomfortable—no,” he said when I opened my mouth to argue with him. “I know it does, so please don’t argue with me about it. All I’m saying is that while my wealth isn’t all of my life, it is part of it. I shouldn’t have to hide it.”

  I stared down at the sheets, flexing my toes up at the bottom to tent the covers around my feet. “I just don’t ever want you to think I like you for your money. Any of it.”

  Brandon squeezed my hand. “I think you’ve made that point pretty clear up to now,” he said with a raised brow. “I hear FLS got a really nice donation last week.”

  I blushed and yanked the covers over my head. “I’m sorry,” I said from under my tent, though I wasn’t. Not really.

  “You know, half the lawyers at Sterling Grove donate their time there.”

  “I know. Kieran told me.”

  “You could do the same if you worked for me too.”

  I popped my head out from under the sheet to frown at him. “I already turned that job down. I certainly can’t go back now that I’m sleeping with a freaking name partner.”

  “Like there’s no nepotism at Harvard, land of the motherfucking legacy student,” Brandon scoffed. “How many of your classmates have jobs waiting for them at daddy’s firm, huh?”

  I didn’t need to answer; we both knew he was right.

  �
�So tell me, Red, what’s the difference between that and having your boyfriend set you up, huh?”

  “Well, for one thing, no one says the partner’s son got there by sleeping with the boss!”

  “Bah, no one’s going to want to get on the bad side of the boss’s girl,” he said with a dismissive wave. “No one would give a shit.”

  “I disagree,” I retorted, hugging the sheets firmly against my chest. “If you’re the boss’s kid, people will think you’re a spoiled brat, but at least people might assume you’ve got the genetic goods to prove yourself at some point. Me, they’ll just assume I whored myself into the job. You know they will!”

  “Goddammit!” Brandon gritted through his teeth as he smacked a hand into the comforter beside his leg. “I’m getting really tired of hearing you refer to yourself like that. Accepting a small gift from me from time to time doesn’t make you a prostitute, Skylar, it just makes you my girlfriend!”

  “A job is not a little fucking gift, Brandon! And neither is a trip to Paris or a ten-thousand-dollar necklace!”

  “So we’re back to this again?” He scowled at me, his fingers clenched over his knees. “You’re just determined to make getting a job as difficult for yourself as possible, aren’t you?”

  “I just need to get the job myself, that’s all.”

  He stood up and walked to the window, slammed his hand against the pane, and then whirled back around to face me. “For the record, Red, I wanted to hire you before I had even met you.”

  My face softened as I toyed with the edge of the sheets. “I know.”

  Brandon sighed. “Is it always going to be like this from now on? Fighting and fucking? Making love and getting piss mad at each other?”

  I pressed my lips together and shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not exactly known for being able to hold my temper.” I pointed one finger at my hair. “Redhead. Cliché, I know.”