33. Blake
I don’t remember the last time I had sex. Don’t remember the guy. But then none of my previous sexual encounters were memorable. And even if they were, Bran would be wiping my memory clean of anyone or anything before this.
I know my own body, have given myself pleasure whenever the urge struck, but he seems to have a direct line to—insider knowledge of—every erogenous point from my head to my toes.
And he’s hitting every one of them.
His lips are soft and brushing, then hard and pressing. His hands, sweeping and slow, then gripping and fast. It’s like he can’t decide how he wants to touch me—where he wants to touch me—from one second to the next.
The quick shift in sensation, the moans of pleasure rushing over my skin, the sound of my own heartbeat pulsing in my ears, has my insides coiling tighter and tighter. Heat throbs in my pussy, liquid seeps from my core, and I can’t stand the wait, don’t want it to end.
I’m writhing beneath him, searching for the right pressure, the right spot, my hands clawing at his shoulders to pull him closer, my legs wrapping around his to hold him against me harder.
“Bran.”
“It’s okay,” he murmurs against my belly, his tongue tickling my skin. “I just need to taste you.”
“I can’t wait.” As much as I want to feel his mouth on me, I want to feel him deep inside more. “I want you now.”
He nips my hip. “You have me.”
“No. I want—” Air rushes through my teeth, choking off my words, when his tongue swipes up the center of my pussy.
He didn’t lie. He’s not clueless. He knows what I want, what I need, before I do; before I have a chance to enjoy each touch he’s giving me another, a different one, a new sensation that has my belly twisting tighter.
I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do more than hold on, and hold on I do. My hands on his head, my fingers tangled in his hair.
And when he adds his fingers to the mix, I’m done. Arching up and crying out, I ride the most intense orgasm of my life.
I’m breathless and boneless, and when his mouth lands on mine, the taste of me on his lips, his cock pressing into my clenching flesh, I open my legs wider, urge him deeper.
I can’t articulate my thoughts because Bran’s mouth hasn’t left mine, but he doesn’t need a verbal clue; he’s either well aware of my needs or handling his own.
With a brutal shove, he thrusts his cock deep inside me. There’s an ache of need, of pain, of pleasure. A second of panic. Then he pulls out, pushes in, pulls out, pushes in, and I’m lost to the frantic rhythm he sets.
A dance as old as time we’ve never engaged in before but seem to know with a lifetime of knowledge.
It isn’t like anything I remember. Like anything I could have imagined.
His tongue mimics his cock, racing in and out of my mouth, taking—giving.
Heat curls in my pussy, a pounding swirl of pleasure that consumes every part of me. A tingling twist, a hollow swoop, and I’m losing myself again.
A surprised cry bursts from me into him and not a second later he tenses, his body rigid on mine, his cock buried deeper than before.
With a grunt he jerks, and drenching heat explodes inside me.
I don’t know how we move, when we move, but we’re pressed together on our sides, breathing hard and holding tight.
I can’t find words.
Don’t know why I’m trying.
What just happened says more than any words I can come up with.
“I knew it would be like this.”
“Hmm…” I barely manage a sound.
“I think I was scared of this. Scared of giving in and having you. I knew I’d never survive losing this. Losing you.”
“Love is the greatest risk of all.”
“She used to say that all the time.”
“She knew what she was talking about.”
“She also used to say only the brave receive the ultimate prize.”
“Your mother was a very wise woman.”
“She would have loved this for us.” He lifts his head to look at me, his eyes shining with love. “She knew. Told me I shouldn’t waste my time going after a prize that was fleeting, not when I already had the ultimate prize.”
Loretta Lattimer had never spoken to me about Bran’s crush when we were kids but I’d known she could see it. Everyone could see it. “I want to name our first daughter after her.”
“I... What?”
“We just had unprotected sex, Bran. I’m not on anything. No need.”
“So we—” His gaze drops between us. “Wow.”
“You said you wanted to get married tomorrow.”
“Can we sneak off now, take Mr. James’s jet to Vegas and get married tonight?” His eyes are back on mine, excitement making them sparkle. “I don’t want to wait. And if we didn’t hit the jackpot tonight, we’ll keep trying.”
“Bran, we’ve got?—”
“I know. A lot going on. A lot to do. I need to get in game shape, you need to build a team. We’ll do it together while we build our family.”
“We should wait until?—”
“No. I don’t want to wait for any of it. I learned a lot in the few weeks I had with Laura. I want to be a dad again. I loved it. I’m good at it. And I want to hold a piece of you and me. The best piece of you and me. Our child will be visible proof of our love. I want to show that to the world.”
“I’ll talk to Mom and Dad in the morning. See if we can go somewhere local tomorrow, and if we can’t get married right away, we’ll get things sorted so we can do it as soon as we can. I want to get married in Canada. It’s the only thing I’ll ask for.”
“As much as rushing out of here right this second appeals, I want to give you what you want. I don’t care as long as I get my ring on your finger. Oh!”
Before I can ask what’s wrong, Bran has disengaged our bodies, slipped out of bed, and run from the room. His actions should make me panic but I know he’s not running away and my belief is confirmed a minute later.
“Here!” He rushes back into the room. Drops to his knees beside the bed and grasps my left hand. “It was the ring my dad gave Mom. She never wore it after we came here. Told me where she kept it so when the time was right, I could give it to the love of my life.”
“Oh, Bran, it’s beautiful.” The cool metal slides up my finger, the solitaire winking and flashing as the overhead light hits it.
“I know it’s not big, the diamond, but it would mean the world to me if you wore it. I’ll buy you something?—”
“Don’t you dare. This is perfect. I’m not a jewelry wearer, I don’t own much, and I can’t tell you how honored it makes me feel to have this on my hand.”
“It never entered my mind to give it to anyone else. It’s always been yours. In my head. My heart.”
“I’ll take care of it. Of you. Of us.”
“Is it weird that I want to fuck you while you wear nothing but my ring?”
The shift from sentimental to sexual has me laughing.
“I want to claim you with my ring on your finger. I just blew my load, and my dick is hard as a rock again.”
We both glance down at his cock where it stands from between his legs. “That looks painful.”
“It does ache.” He shoots me a cocky grin. “And as my fiancée, it’s your job to take away my pain.”
“Oh, is it?” I reach over, draw a fingertip from the root of his shaft to the plump weeping head. “Any idea how I can do that?”
“I have a few.”
“Care to pick one?”
“You pick.” His gaze is locked on where my finger plays with the bead of moisture oozing from the slit. “I don’t care. I’ll sit here and let you do what you’re doing until I spray all over your hand if that’s what you want.”
“For a guy who just lost his virginity, you have a dirty mouth.”
“Jeez, now I’m imagining your mouth on me.”
“Done.” I’m out of bed, shoving him backward until he’s flat on the floor, me positioned between his spread thighs, and I don’t wait. Don’t tease him or go easy. I lick my lips as I lean over and take him in my mouth.
I guess it’s a night for firsts. I’ve never sucked a guy off, never wanted to. Not even when I thought about Bran over the years did I imagine doing this.
I never imagined I’d enjoy it either.
But I’m loving the feel of him in my mouth, sliding across my tongue, stretching my lips wide when I take him as deep as I can without gagging.
“Blake. Babe. Shit. Fuck.” His fingers tangle in my hair, tug and grip, the slight sting zipping through my blood and pulsing in my pussy. “Not. Gonna. Last. Can’t. Feels…too. Good.”
His stilted words have me doubling down, bobbing faster. I cup his balls in one hand, roll them with my fingers, and grip the base of his shaft with the other, squeeze in a pulsing rhythm.
The sounds he makes, the desperation lacing them, has me sucking hard, deeper, on each slide down. And when I feel him hit the back of my throat, I swallow.
“Fuck!” Come bursts into my mouth, flooding my tongue and his cock.
I can’t contain it, can’t swallow fast enough to keep it inside, and when he pulls free, when my mouth is no longer stuffed with him, his release dribbles down my chin.
“Fucking hell. I just came and the sight of you with your lips red and my come on your face, has my dick twitching to get inside you again.”
Swiping the back of my hand over my mouth, I grin. “Well, you do have years of abstaining to make up for.”
“It has nothing to do with that. It’s you, Blake.” He jackknifes up and palms my face. “Only you.”