Chapter 14 Dani
Dani
Iwas never going to look at a doctor’s office the same way ever again. I had already been teetering on the edge of lust and logic for weeks now, but seeing Brooks watch our daughter flicker to life on that ultrasound screen had officially broken me.
Fuck logic. And fuck me, too.
We barely said a word on the drive back to his place, both of us strung tight, buzzing with excitement for what was still to come.
And come . . . and come and come.
Brooks’s hand didn’t leave my thigh the entire ride, thumb drawing loose circles against my leggings that had me shifting in my seat, squirming under the weight of his smirk. By the time he pulled into his driveway, my pulse was a steady roar in my ears.
The front door barely clicked shut behind us before Brooks had pinned me against it, his mouth crashing down onto mine like he’d been holding back for weeks instead of the twenty-minute drive.
More like twelve minutes.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one desperate to get his cock inside me. Then again, only one of us had come—embarrassingly fast, I would add—in my gynecologist’s office. And yet, I was still burning up.
Heat.
That was all I could register. Heat from his hands on my hips, from his chest pressed against mine, from the way his tongue plundered my mouth.
My bag slid from my shoulder and hit the hardwood with a dull thud, already forgotten.
I barely had time to gasp before his arms hooked under my thighs and he lifted me clean off the floor.
I wrapped them around his waist on instinct, the muscles in his back flexing under my palms as he carried me up the stairs.
“Where are we going?” I whispered against the shell of his ear, half-dizzy from want, half from the way he carried me like I was nothing.
“Bed,” he growled, voice sure and determined. “I want you laid out for me. I need to see all of you.”
The world blurred. Stairs, hallway, the faint scent of his laundry detergent—competent men were my kink—and then, we outside his bedroom.
“You good with this?” he asked, his forehead brushing mine.
My pulse stuttered, heat pooling low in my belly. The fact that he still felt the need to ask while my heat was soaking my panties made me ache. I didn’t deserve this man or his reverence.
I dragged my mouth across his jaw, nipping the edge of his beard. “More than okay.”
He kicked the door open wide and laid me back on the bed with reverence that contrasted the hungry way his lips trailed down my neck.
The mattress dipped under his weight as he came over me, bracing one forearm beside my head while the other slid up my thigh. His mouth was everywhere—along my jaw, down the curve of my neck, across the swells of my tits—each kiss harder and hungrier than the last.
“Fuck, kitten,” he rasped against my skin, the scrape of his beard sending a shiver down my spine. “I want you so bad.”
“How do you want me?” I purred.
“Naked,” he said between kisses. “Under me.” Kiss. “Over me.” Kiss. “Riding my fucking face.”
“I pick D, all of the above.”
His rumble of laughter felt like an electric bolt straight to the clit. Better than any vibrator I’d ever had.
“Clothes on or off?” he asked, voice low. His thumb traced the waistband of my leggings, patient even as his eyes darkened with need.
“Off,” I breathed.
“Everything?” His lips ghosted over mine, brushing the words against my mouth like he was spelling out every fucking letter. “Because once I start, I’m not stopping.”
“Good,” I whispered back, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “I don’t want you to.”
His grin turned feral. “Careful, kitten. I’m gonna hold you to that.”
A shiver rattled down my spine when his fingers slipped beneath the lace edge of my panties, finding me wet and aching. He groaned with approval and claimed my lips again, swallowing my moan as his fingers started a slow, deliberate rhythm that had me arching off the bed.
It was like his fingers had been made for this, for playing my body like it were a piano made solely for him.
They worked over my clit, rubbing circles just hard enough to have my eyes rolling back in my head.
I was already close to coming a second time today, and that was the biggest surprise of all.
Well, maybe the second biggest; letting Brooks diddle me in the doctor’s office definitely took the cake.
What was it about this man and his magical fucking fingers?
“Off,” he ordered, voice like gravel.
His hands were already at my hips, hooking my leggings and panties down my thighs before I could breathe a reply. He kissed a path after them, hot mouth dragging along sensitive skin, leaving me trembling before he even got where I needed him.
By the time he settled between my legs, I was clutching fistfuls of sheets, desperate and shaking. He looked up at me once—just once, pupils blown wide—before lowering his head and sealing his mouth over me.
The first stroke of his tongue tore a cry from my throat. I hummed deep when he licked up the length of my sex. Slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second, every taste. Then faster, deeper, lips and tongue working me over with precision that made my toes curl.
A moan slipped past my lips, my vision darkening.
“God, you’re good at that,” I cried, seeing stars when he nipped my clit.
He laughed, and the vibrations sent me skyrocketing.
“That’s it, kitten,” he growled. “Fuck me back. Take what you need.”
“Brooks.”
Had his mouth always been this dirty? I didn't think so. Then again, it was hard to think about anything other than how his tongue felt when he dragged it through my folds and pressed inside.
And how his fingers felt when they finally joined, curling inside me and hitting the spot that made my eyes cross.
My hips bucked against his face, and he growled like the taste of me was a reward he’d kill for. His grip on my thighs tightened, pinning my legs open wide as he devoured me, no mercy in sight.
“Tell me you missed this, Dani.” He kept his pace steady, tongue and fingers moving together, and the heat grew unbearable. “Tell me that you’ve dreamed about me fucking you. Filling you. Making you mine.”
He knew it without me saying a word. I was gasping for air, writhing uncontrollably, soaking his sheets.
“Please, Brooks.” I gasped, grinding shamelessly against his fingers and tongue. “Please don’t stop.”
He didn't. Just worked his fingers faster, tongue stroking and tasting. The room was silent save for the filthy, wet sounds of his mouth, the creak of the mattress as my hips moved, and the pained sounds pouring from me.
He sucked on my clit and stars danced behind my eyelids. I was going to come. Again. Harder than before.
And this time, I was not fucking quiet.
My orgasm ripped through me. It was like lightning striking the earth, all heat and fire and the sharp taste of metal. The world shattered.
I wasn’t typically a multiple orgasms kind of girl—especially not without the help of a toy or two—but it had been too long since somebody had made me feel this good, and frankly, my dear, I just didn’t give a damn.
June and Nessa had been right. There was nothing wrong with giving in and enjoying myself with someone who loved my body, who loved—
Not going there.
I was still trembling when he finally lifted his head, lips slick, beard damp, wearing that smug, satisfied smirk I half-wanted to slap off his face.
“Delicious,” he rasped, kissing the inside of my thigh.
“Get naked.” I panted. “Now.”
His smile was sin personified. “I don’t know, kitten. I’m enjoying the view from down here.”
Without a word, I sat up and tugged my shirt over my head before unhooking my bra and tossing that aside, too. Brooks’s mouth dropped open when he got his first unobstructed glimpse of my tits.
“How’s that view?”
His eyes darkened. “You better not be asking me to choose between these tits and your juicy pussy.”
Little did he know that there was no need—he could have all of me.
He reached for me, but then paused. “Are they sensitive?” he asked, voice rough, gaze still locked on my breasts like he couldn’t decide whether to worship or devour. Like I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
“Kind of,” I admitted, cheeks heating even as my nipples tightened under his stare. “I used to barely fill an A-cup, and now . . .”
I gestured toward the thick mounds, vaguely self-conscious, though his hungry expression made it clear he didn’t see anything to be embarrassed about. I was still getting used to them myself—the way my clothes hung differently off my body, the way they painfully bounced during my morning runs.
Brooks sat back on his heels, dragging a hand through his hair as if steadying himself. “Show me.”
I reached for his wrist and guided his palm over one breast, shuddering when the warmth of his hand met sensitive skin.
“Gentle,” I whispered, guiding his touch, showing him the pressure that made my back arch instead of flinch.
And he obeyed—a novelty for Brooks—brushing his thumb over my nipple in slow circles that sent sparks shooting to my core.
His mouth followed, warm and tentative at first, as he waited for my reaction.
“Yes.” I gasped, threading my fingers through his hair and holding him closer. “Just like that. Not too hard—”
My words broke into a moan as he sucked lightly, drawing the peak between his lips with careful precision. Brooks lifted his head just long enough to meet my eyes.
“You guide me, kitten. I’ll give you exactly what you need.”
Sweet Jesus, this man is going to wreck me.
My breath hitched when his mouth closed over my other nipple, tongue circling, sucking with just enough pull to make my toes curl. My back arched off the mattress, pressing me closer to him.
“Brooks . . .” His name came out broken, a plea and a curse.