Winning Brynn (Seattle Strikers)

43. Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-two

Brynn

I bounce on the mattress after Leo tosses me onto it, watching him stalk toward me with a look of dark determination in his eyes. His linen sheets twist around me, soft against my bare skin, but I'm too wonderstruck by the man before me to give much attention to his bedspread or the cozy lightwood furnishings in the room.

I still can't believe what he just did to me. No man before him has ever made me squirt. It's not that I'm a prude—I have a clit piercing, for Christ's sake—or that I haven't had good sex before. I have. Great sex, even. But I've never experienced anything like that.

And he hasn't even been inside me yet.

"You're still wearing your boxers."

He flicks his eyes casually down to his crotch. "So I am."

"I'm just saying. You've just spent the past half hour nose deep in my pussy, and I haven't seen your cock yet. Hardly seems fair." I tilt my head to one side and narrow my eyes playfully. "Worried I'll be disappointed?"

I definitely will not be disappointed, given the size of the bulge he's packing. Concerned, if anything. That thing looks like it could puncture a lung.

He shakes his head to himself then drops his underwear. I guess he doesn't need a comeback. His cock speaks for itself.

"Jesus," I whisper under my breath.

Can dicks be pretty? Because Leo's is fucking beautiful. Long and thick and curved at the perfect angle. My mouth waters, and my pussy aches, like it hasn't just had two of the most intense orgasms of its entire life.

Climbing onto the bed, he crawls up the mattress until he's looming over me. He dips his head, stroking his nose up the column of my throat until his lips are only a breath away from mine. "No, Brynn. I'm not worried you'll be disappointed." His voice is a low rumble of thunder that makes goosebumps break out across my body.

"Yes, I, um…" I swallow. "I can see why you wouldn't be."

I can feel it against my leg, the swollen tip stroking gently over the skin of my thigh. It's torture. I want it closer, want to feel it stretching me apart as Leo sinks into me.

His eyes sparkle knowingly as he reaches between us to rub the head of his cock up and down my entrance.

"Stop teasing me," I plead, wriggling beneath him.

"Say please," he says roughly, and I'm reminded of the day I agreed to the nanny position. His refusal to beg, his reluctance to say please. As hot as his domination is, I'll be damned if I don't get what I've been owed from the start.

Shoving his chest, he rolls to the side, gripping my thighs so that I end up on top of him. I'm not na?ve enough to think that we wouldn’t have ended up in this position had he not been willing to concede control, but the power I feel at having him beneath me goes straight to my head.

"Condoms?" I ask, my lips parted as I drag my wet center up and down his dick.

His eyes shutter as he fights to form words, finally gritting out a short, "Drawer," in reply. My breasts hang heavy by his face as I lean over to his bedside table to grab a Magnum from the top drawer, freezing in place when I feel the heat of his mouth closing around my nipple.

Automatically, my hand finds its way into his hair. I clutch him against me, moving faster over his dick, until I remember that this isn't his show anymore. It's mine.

Sitting up, I force him to release my nipple and shake my head. "You're forgetting who's in control here."

His brow arches with misguided confidence. "Am I?"

Poor fucker has no idea what's coming to him.

I don't answer him in words. I simply roll the condom down his length, toss the wrapper over my shoulder, and sink down onto him.

"Oh, fuck," he moans, hands flying to my hips to keep me grounded on his lap. "You're so fucking tight."

And he's so fucking big, but not uncomfortably so. He stretches me to my limit without pushing me over it, filling every inch of space I have to give him so that I feel him everywhere. Simply, he's the perfect fucking fit.

Slowly, I raise myself up, only to impale myself back onto him. Over and over, I repeat the same motion, bouncing on his dick until my breasts bounce and my forehead begins to bead with sweat. Leo's hands find my ass, stroking, kneading, guiding my movements. I'm supposed to have the control, but I guess he just can't help himself.

"Shit, I don't think I'm gonna last," he rasps. "You feel too good."

"Don't you dare come," I growl, switching up my movements so that I'm grinding on him instead. "Not until I say so."

Rocking my hips back and forth, I find a rhythm that has me trembling. When his thumb finds my clit, rubbing tight little circles round and round, I shatter.

The orgasm takes me with force. Like stormy waves, it crashes through me, somehow more powerful than either of the other two I've already had tonight. It seems to go on and on, only intensified by the look of sheer agony on his face at the strength it's taking him to hold his own back.

And then I stop.

I can feel his dick swollen inside of me, aching for release. His fingers are tense where they dig into my hips, his face a picture of pain and confusion.

"What are you—"

"Remember the first day when you refused to beg?" I cut him off, a sly smile stretched across my lips. "You're gonna make that up to me now."

His nostrils flare as he tries to rock up into me. But I hold firm, squeezing his sides with my knees to restrict his movements.

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am." I grin victoriously. "I really, really am."

I squeeze the muscles of my pussy around him, simply because I like the way it makes him twitch. He groans, hips pulsing under me, though only slightly because I won't let him move.

"You know I could flip you over right now and fuck you until I fill you with my cum," he growls.

"But you won't."

"You're awfully confident."

"Mmhmm." I nod. "And you know why? Because you're secretly loving this. Your dick is so hard right now. It's desperate to come, isn't it?"

"You're a monster, Brynn Wolfe."

"You like me this way."

Leaning over him, I grind down on him again. I run my tongue over the shell of his ear, kissing his neck, his throat, grazing my teeth over his earlobe until I feel his legs begin to tremble.

"You're so close, aren't you?" I whisper. "You want to come so fucking bad."

"Brynn." He rasps my name like a prayer, the sound thick with desperation.

I ride him earnestly, working him over just slow enough to keep him on the very edge. I meant what I said. I won't let him come until he begs.

"Ask nicely, Leo," I say, keeping my voice gentle and low. "Beg me to fuck all the cum out of your dick, and I'll give you what you want."

His breaths leave him short and shallow. I can see the tension in his face and can feel it in his body as he grows closer and closer to release.

"Just one little word."

"Please." I almost don't hear it. It's so quiet, so rasped, that it nearly gets lost between pants. But then he says it again, and I swear to all that is holy, there is no sound in this world sweeter than Leo Sullivan begging. "God Brynn, please let me come."

So, I do.

I ride him faster, harder, until his face collapses in ecstasy.

"Fuck, Brynn!" He comes with a roar, emptying himself inside of me with quivering breaths and shaking limbs.

"That's my good fucking boy," I whisper, twisting the words he'd used on me earlier, if for no other reason than because the power has gone to my head.

Not that he seems to mind. He moans loudly at my words as his dick gives another twitch inside of me, spilling everything he has until he collapses back onto the pillow, spent and exhausted.

I tumble down beside him, his arm instantly curling around my side and pulling me into him. He's silent for a while—so long, in fact, that I'm sure he's fallen asleep. But then his deep voice drifts through the quiet.

"That was quite something."

"Did I blow your mind?"

He chuckles lightly. "I was supposed to blow yours."

"I think we blew each other's."

"Then I can live with that."

His fingers trace featherlight patterns over my arms as we lie together in the soft glow of his lamplight. There's a slight chill to the room since his window is cracked open, the late-winter wind fluttering through the white linen of his drapes, so I tuck myself tighter into him, seeking the warmth of his body.

"I need a shower."

"Oh," I say, though inwardly I'm deflating.

The sex is over now. We're not a couple. It makes sense that he wouldn't want me to spend the night with him, especially when my bedroom is only one room away. And yet, for a minute there, I sort of thought he would.

Detangling myself from his arms, I watch his back with sadness as he swings his legs out of bed. His arms tense as he rolls off the condom, knotting it and tossing it into the little wicker trash basket he keeps in the corner of the room.

With a sigh, I pull myself into a sitting position and freeze when his dark eyes find mine.

"Well?" he asks.

My brow furrows. "Well, what?"

He grins, devilish and oh-so fucking handsome. "I need a shower," he repeats. "Are you coming?"