by Lexi Blake
“Yes, that’s what I want. I want to hear you. They don’t matter. No one matters but you and me. You’re mine and those sounds you make are all mine. I want them.” His pelvis pressed up as though he couldn’t hold himself back a second longer. “And I want you.”
She wanted something, too, but if she let him have his way, he would likely flip her over and start the process of making her come all over again. He seemed dedicated to proving he could do it. She wanted some control of her own.
“Please let me up.” She could barely recognize the sound of her own voice. Was that sexy growl coming from her mouth?
Bran’s hands tightened briefly. “I don’t want to let you up.”
She had to smile because sometimes he sounded like a kid who didn’t want to give up his favorite toy. “I can’t get undressed if you don’t let me up.”
“You’ll get naked for me. Right here? Right now?”
He underestimated his own persuasion. The orgasm she’d just had was a baby one compared to what he’d given her in the past. She wanted it all. She had a whole week to make up for, and somehow when she was with him, the conventional Carly seemed to fade away and she became a woman who took what she wanted and damn the consequences.
And she wanted to put her mouth on him.
“Yes.” The minute she felt his arms loosen, she got to her feet. Being so relaxed made her realize how uptight she felt most of the time. She knew there were always eyes on her, judging her, and that made it hard to be herself. But here with him, there was no place for self-consciousness. He offered her something she wanted even more than her pride. She wanted to be connected to him, and that meant throwing off her normal prim persona and being the Carly Bran brought out.
That Carly didn’t mind being naked with him.
She turned to find him watching her. He sat back, his beer in one hand. He was the very picture of dreamy decadence as he tilted back the beer and then settled in.
And that was when she remembered that this man was a connoisseur of strippers.
His eyes hardened. “Don’t. I don’t know exactly what you’re thinking, but don’t. I want to see you naked. I don’t want your insecurities to keep that from me. Look at my cock and tell me I’m thinking about anything but how pretty you are without those clothes on. Take them off. Show me.”
He was a man who liked to watch.
She was going to give him a show.
—
His cock ached as he waited for her to decide. He’d seen the light in her eyes dim and he’d known there was no way she wasn’t thinking about the vicious crap he’d thrown her way the night of their fight. If he could take it all back he would, even though some of it had been the truth. He had been with a lot of women, almost all of them with far more sexual experience than Carly. So why was she the one he craved? There had been many times in his life he’d needed a woman and found one to crawl into bed with.
That craving had turned and now when he needed a woman, she had a face. Carly’s. She had Carly’s smile and her curves and her sweet Southern accent.
He needed so much more from her than a fuck, but he wasn’t sure he deserved it.
Her hands went to the buttons on her blouse and he knew it didn’t matter. He would take her any way he could. He would plot and plan and do what he had to do to keep her after this was over.
The last week had been hell. He’d needed her so badly and he’d stayed away because he wasn’t sure he would be in control. All day long he’d done that woman’s bidding, smiling even when he knew damn well what she was doing. He’d shown up late at Carly’s and his first instinct had been to wake her up, to brand himself on her and take out all the frustrations of the day on her body, making her cry out again and again so he could feel like the man he wanted to be.
But could he be the man she needed him to be? That was the question that had haunted him all week. Could he be the kind of man who could put the past behind him so he might have a future with her?
He was going to stop thinking about it. That was the key. He would think about her. She’d already taken over his dreams. There was zero reason she couldn’t take over his waking thoughts, too. When it got bad, he would focus on her.
And he would stay in control. She didn’t need to see that side of him ever again. No one did. He was going cold turkey on the violence and rage.
Optimism. That was his new code word.
Lust was another good one. He was feeling that word as she reached the fourth button on that prim shirt she was wearing, and he could see her breasts beginning to come into view. Pretty tits he could fill his hands with and pink-and-brown nipples that begged to be sucked and laved with affection.
They had hours before they touched down. How many times could he make her come? Would it be enough to keep her close when all of this was through? Would sex alone chain her to him?
For the first time he really thought about Drew’s offer. His brother was ready to make an investment that could make Carly the new Patricia Cain, and he would put Bran in charge of all of it. He was bargaining, willing to hope that money and sex and the promise of power would get her to overlook the fact that he was a walking time bomb.
“Show me more.” It didn’t matter because he would find a way to take care of her. “Get rid of that bra.”
He loved how she flushed. Her skin was still pink from her recent orgasm, her lips sultry and full, but she still managed to blush. He could take her a thousand times and she would still be so fucking innocent.
He wished suddenly that she’d been the only woman he’d ever known. What would his life have been like if he’d met her all those years ago? If his parents hadn’t died and he’d grown up in some white-picket-fenced house and he’d managed to meet Carly and marry her?
He shoved the thought aside because that wasn’t what had happened and it never would. He couldn’t be innocent with her, so all he could do was protect her.
She tossed aside the shirt and before he could blink had managed to unhook her bra. Her eyes went to the spot behind him where the flight attendant had disappeared.
“She won’t come in here.”
Carly’s lips curled up slightly. “And if we crash?”
“Then we should hurry because I’m going to be humping your leg on the way down.” He wasn’t going to hide how much he wanted her. Not from anyone. He’d told the flirty flight attendant that unless she wanted to see a whole lot of skin, she shouldn’t show up again until they were about to descend.
Proving this wasn’t her first rodeo, the woman had smiled and shown him where the condoms were stashed and then happily gone on her way.
And if this sexcapade made the rounds, he didn’t mind that at all. He wanted every person at Cain Corp to understand that he belonged to Carly. No matter who paid his so-called salary.
“Those are some beautiful breasts,” he said softly, arousal humming through him. “Why don’t you touch them?”
She cupped her breasts, her pink-tipped nails contrasting with her skin. “Like this?”
“Is that how you want me to touch them?” He could definitely get into this game. A week’s worth of stress and worry began to drain from his system.
Her hands tightened, thumbs running over her nipples.
Yes, she didn’t like it when he was too gentle. She liked it when he took control. Even if it was only with commands at this point. When he put his hands on her again, she would want him to be a little rough. His girl wasn’t fragile. She was solid both emotionally and physically. She could handle him.
“Roll your nipples between your thumb and forefingers. Roll them. Tug on them.”
She did as he asked, her breath fluttering when she tugged. Those nipples were flush and red from the pressure.
“Tell me something, Carly. Do you like it when I suck on your nipples?” He loved to hear her talk dirty. Sh
e wouldn’t do it on her own, but she would respond in kind. If he gave her the chance, she would get lovingly nasty with him.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice husky. “I love it when you suck my nipples, Bran.”
That was what he wanted. “Take off your skirt now.”
Her fingers skimmed down her torso and her thumbs slipped under the waistband of her skirt. It was a white filmy thing, a bit on the bohemian side. He liked it, but he liked her naked more. She slid the skirt down her legs. She’d kicked off her sandals the minute they’d sat down. He’d noticed that about her. If she didn’t have to wear shoes she rarely ever did. When they got home, her shoes were off. Half the time if she was sitting at her desk, her shoes were sitting beside her. He would pull her feet into his lap and massage them at night, thereby turning her into a purring kitten.
Time. He needed more time to build rituals like nightly foot rubs and long sessions in bed and showers where he washed her hair. She was a sensual creature. She would become loyal to the man who gave her comfort and pleasure.
She stood in front of him wearing absolutely nothing but a pair of white cotton panties that were so fucking wet they hid nothing. She looked like a pretty girl whose man pleasured her and she expected more.
“Come here.” He sat forward, spreading his legs so she could fit herself between them.
She crossed the space between them, bringing her body close to his. He let his hands find her hips, nearly sighing at the rightness he felt the minute they were skin to skin. He leaned forward and put his nose against her pussy, breathing deeply. Damn but he loved that scent. He wanted to keep it around him all the time. He dragged his tongue over the soaked material, happy when she shuddered and groaned.
“Please, Bran.”
He loved it when she begged. “Yes. Take these off and sit in your chair. Spread your legs wide and I’ll please you.”
Her hands found his hair, sinking in. “No. I don’t want that. I mean, I do, but I want something else first.”
He would give her almost anything. He wanted to play with her, as his brother-in-law would say. Playing meant exploring the boundaries of their sexual relationship. Playing meant figuring out what pleased both of them. Play would draw them together, build intimacy between them. “What do you want, baby? What do you want more than my tongue on your pussy?”
“My tongue on your cock.”
He had to take a deep breath. Yes, he fucking wanted that, too. He’d managed to do what he needed to do. “I have a clean bill of health, so I can fuck your mouth, baby. I can fuck it hard and come down your throat if I want to.”
“I want to taste you. I want to run my tongue all over your cock and know I’ve pleased you.”
“Then get on your knees.” He sat back. He could definitely play this game. His cock tightened. “And open my slacks. Be careful. I’m really hard.”
He could barely breathe he was so hard.
Carly sank to her knees, balancing herself against his legs as she eased into the position he wanted her in. Right where he wanted her. She stared up at him as her hands went to the button on his slacks. She eased the zipper down. “I can see that.”
He held on to the arms of the chair, fingers sinking in so he wouldn’t simply reach out and drag her down where he wanted her. This was her show. For now. “What are you going to do about it?”
She licked those plump lips of hers, the light shining in her eyes. “I think I’m going to have to kiss it.”
She slipped her fingers under the waistband of his boxers, releasing his cock. It sprang out and he sighed with relief. Her fingertips brushed the flesh of his dick. His whole body tightened in pleasurable anticipation.
“Touch me first. Take me in hand. You can be rough. I won’t break.”
Her hand gripped him, heat enveloping his whole body. She pumped him over and over. Carly seemed to revel in being able to touch him. They still had so much to do together. So much exploration to be done. He never spent too much time with any one woman. Sex was about making himself feel good, giving to a woman so he felt like he had a place in the world.
Not so with her. He wanted to take, too. He wanted everything she had to give. Carly made him a little selfish. He wasn’t sure that was a good thing, but it felt like it.
She leaned over and pressed a surprisingly chaste kiss on the head of his cock. He groaned at the sensation and then had to drag air into his lungs as the flat of her tongue ran over him.
Pure fire licked along his spine and forced him to grip the chair harder. He wanted to twist his fingers in her hair and force her to take him all. He wanted to fuck her mouth hard and come down her throat.
He forced himself to sit still as she explored him with her tongue. She dragged it over and around his cockhead, lightly sucking him between her lips. So good. It felt so damn good. He forced himself to relax back and watch the place where his dick disappeared into her mouth.
“That’s what I want,” he said, his voice low. “Your mouth feels perfect.”
Her tongue whirled around and she worked her way down. Her head bobbed as she took more and more of him. He hissed when her teeth scraped lightly, but he enjoyed the sensation. It flared along his skin and brought him back to the moment.
He looked down at her, finally allowing himself to touch her hair. Soft and silky. Like the rest of her. Everything about Carly was soft, from her body to her heart. He let his fingers tangle in her hair, not guiding her precisely but showing her what he wanted. More. More of her mouth on his cock. More of her in his life. Just more of her.
Over and over she worked her mouth on his dick. She licked and sucked until she’d taken his whole cock deep. Wet and warm and soft, he let the sensation flow.
He felt the back of her throat and knew he couldn’t take another second. There would be time later to be selfish. For now, he wanted her to come again, wanted to feel the tight clasp of her pussy around him.
More than that, he wanted to look at her.
“Stop.” He tugged lightly on her hair. “Come up here and ride me.”
She licked him one last time. He dragged her up, hungry to connect with her. He never felt more like himself than when he was deep inside Carly Fisher. When he was with her, he wasn’t the lesser brother. He could make her happy.
She made him think he could be happy.
Her tongue tangled with his as they kissed. She could be shy at first, but when she decided she was in, his girl was all in. He adored her for how responsive and giving she was.
She stood and slid the soaked panties off her hips. “So the doctor gave you a clean bill of health?”
Fuck, the simple thought made him want to come. “Yes, and you’re on birth control.”
“No more strippers, Brandon,” she said with a frown.
How could he explain that he wasn’t tempted by anyone except her? How could he make her get it? “No more anyones. Only you. Only us.”
He was committed to making it work. Somehow. Some way.
She settled herself on his lap, the heat from her pussy nearly scorching him. “For as long as we’re together.”
He intended for that to be a long time. He gripped her hips and thrust up, joining them in one long pass. He gritted his teeth against the desperate need to come. She was so tight around him. He held her close, feeling her gasp as he filled her up. He held himself still, looking up at her, wanting the moment to last. “For a long time, Carly. A long time. I’ve never wanted any woman the way I want you.”
She kissed him again. Their tongues tangled up and rubbed and played while he gave her time to get used to his size. He held her still as he kissed her lips and then made his way down. He bent her back slightly, giving himself access to her nipples. This was what he’d wanted for a week, her open and ready for his pleasure, naked and welcoming him home.
“You didn’t even get out o
f your clothes,” she whispered as he licked her nipple.
He loved the way she squirmed. “I’ll get out of them next time. I hear this thing has a nice bathroom with a shower and everything. We’ll need to get cleaned up after all the filthy things I plan to do to you.”
It was time to get started. They only had another five hours. He might be able to fit everything he wanted in. He could fuck her for hours but within a day he would be back on the job, and then if all went well, the job would be over sometime this week. He had to ensure when the job was over that she walked out with him.
He gripped her hips. “Come on. Take us where we need to go.”
Carly rode him, bouncing up and down, taking every inch of him. He’d never in his life had sex without a condom. He wished there was absolutely nothing between them. It struck him that a baby would be a good way to make Carly stay with him. She would marry him. That would keep her by his side. A child could tie them together.
He had a sudden vision of Carly and a baby.
“Kiss me.” He was getting emotional. She brought that out in him. No one in his life could bring that out in him the way she could. Anger, rage, those were always bubbling under his surface. But Carly made him feel more. Carly made him want more.
She leaned forward. She never let up on her rhythm even as she fused their mouths together.
They rode the tide, holding on to each other as they moved.
He felt her nails sinking in through the fabric of his shirt. He loved it when she went wild and left a mark. She shook in his arms as she came.
Her orgasm triggered his own. It started low, causing his balls to draw up, and then the sensation raced along his spine. Pure pleasure overwhelmed him and he forced his cock as deep as it could go.
Carly fell forward, her body wrapped around his. “So that was the mile high club?”
“That it was. I think we should become frequent fliers.” He sighed and relaxed. His clothes were completely ruined and he didn’t care. Nothing mattered except the woman in his arms. He kissed her and they both seemed content to not move, to try to make the moment last.
