THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER
As the dark enveloped us in soft blackness, I reached for Theo, my hands slipping around his neck. He froze for a moment, then brought his mouth to mine in a crushing kiss.
In the dark, in the silence, we were alone in the world. No prying eyes, no judgment, no words to break the spell, no names spoken. We had the wrong names, he and I. I was wrong for being here and he was the wrong brother.
But not tonight.
We fell back against the wall, writhing, grasping, and yanking at clothes. Desperate to expose more skin, to touch more, to kiss harder, to finally take what we wanted.
We kissed until kissing wasn’t enough.
Theo’s hands roamed my back, found the zipper of my dress.
He flipped me around, and I braced myself on the kitchen counter as he slid it down, exposing my back to the air.
He made a growling sound of want as my dress slipped into a silky puddle at my feet, leaving me in my bra, panties, and heels.
Theo’s hand made a fist in my hair, pulling it aside, exposing the skin.
His mouth worked along my shoulder. Voraciously, like a starving man.
I gasped as he trailed open-mouthed kisses up to my ear.
My skin turned to fire under his grazing teeth.
His tongue was hot and wet, tasting me, sucking my skin, biting and then licking again.
My legs trembled as I pressed back into him.
His hands slipped up to my bra-clad breasts, kneading me while his mouth continued its assault on my neck.
I arched until my head rested on his shoulder, as my hand slid between our bodies to find the length of him—huge and iron hard—straining against his pants.
I stroked him through the material, then slipped my hand inside, wrapped my fingers around him.
“Jesus…” I breathed.
He let out a small grunt, and bit down on my neck, sending fresh licks of fire down my back.
“Want you,” he growled, his right hand sliding down between my breasts, down my stomach, to the top of my panties. “Wanted you for so long…”
His fingers slipped inside my panties, and my thoughts broke into the air. “Oh God yes,” I whispered. “Touch me.”
Two fingers slid inside me and with a cry, I arched harder against him.
His mouth worked against my neck, my ear, sending currents of heat down to where his fingers pressed deliciously hard, until I unraveled from top to bottom.
I writhed against him, my hand still stroking him, but hands and fingers weren’t enough.
“More,” I whispered. “Please, more.”
Theo withdrew his hand and spun me around.
Our mouths crashed together, all teeth and tongues and our breaths rasping in our noses.
His hands cupped the back of my neck and the curve of my waist as we mauled each other’s mouths, raw and frenzied.
He groaned into my mouth, and I took it, gave it back as a whimper—a silent cry as my entire body screamed for his.
My hands tore across his broad back, the muscles of his shoulders, into his hair, down to his tight ass.
His kisses overwhelmed me. He overwhelmed me with his relentless presence, the solidity of him, his scent, the taste of his tongue dueling with mine, the feel of his strong body mashed against me.
In his grip, I was small and fragile yet utterly desired and powerful.
I’d never seen a man want me this badly. Ever.
He lifted me and sat me down on the counter.
My legs instantly wrapped around his waist, my arms around his neck, still kissing, biting, sucking until I tasted the tang of blood—his or mine, I didn’t know.
I was lost. Delirious with him. Blindly we tore at each other’s clothing.
His large hands went to the front of my bra, found the clasp and tore it open.
“ Yes,” I cried, as his hands sought my breasts. I wanted to scream Yes to everything he was doing to me, but I swallowed the sound and kissed him harder, my own hands finding the bottom of his shirt and hauling it off.
It was too dark to see each other. Our hands and mouths did all the looking.
My fingers trailed up the hard cut of his abs, up over his broad chest, to his right nipple where I found a hard glint of metal.
A tiny barbell piercing. I hadn’t known it was there.
I’d never seen him without a shirt. I bent to put my mouth on that piercing, nipping at it with my teeth and tugging it gently.
Theo hissed a breath and let me work over his nipple with my tongue, then drew me back to his mouth for another bruising kiss.
His hands slid up my thighs, his fingers hooked my panties and slid them down.
My hands tore at the ties on his pants, pushing them off his hips.
He was huge and hard, soft velvet over steel.
“Wait,” I whispered.
“I got it,” he said. He pulled a condom from his wallet on the counter and rolled it down, his mouth on mine again. With delicious roughness, he thrust my thighs apart.
I thought he’d drive straight into me, but he was slow—for the first and last time all night he was slow—pushing into me, gripping my hips until his touched mine, joined completely.
“God, yes,” I hissed, then bit his shoulder. The feel of him inside me, the heavy pressure, the heat and hardness of him. He was so much, stretching and filling me.
A few slow, deep thrusts, and then Theo began to move.
He braced himself with both hands on the counter and I wrapped myself around him, my legs tight to his waist, my high heels digging into the small of his back.
I clung to his neck, our mouths trying to form something like a kiss but merely touching, teeth clacking together, tongues stroking one another.
I held him tighter as he drove into me, fast and hard, and his mouth moved to latch onto my neck, biting and sucking.
My fingernails answered, clawing at the ropes of muscles along his back, until finally the sensation building in me stole every bit of energy.
“Come for me,” he growled.
His hand gripped a fistful of my hair, and he brought my mouth to his, hard and deep.
I came then, pain and pleasure driving me over the edge.
Theo showed no signs of being close or tiring.
His body was powerful with lust while mine felt limp from the climax that ripped through it.
I clung to him, content to let him take me however he wanted, to stay inside me as long as it took to find his own release.
But another orgasm, stoked on the fires of the first, began to build in me.
“Again,” he grunted against my lips. “Come for me again.”
I arched back and he held me with one arm tight around my waist, driving into me over and over. Until the second climax—a thousand times stronger than the first—tore through me.
I cried out as my body tensed, every muscle and sinew threaded tight, bound together in an ecstasy I’d never experienced. His hands were locked on my hips, hauling me to him as he thrust and just as my second orgasm began to wane, he came.
He shuddered and bit back a cry through gritted teeth, turning the cry into a low rumbling growl. His thrusts slowed, deepened, but were just as hard. God he was so deep in me, and I held him there, my legs still wrapped around him until he had emptied himself into me completely.
I slumped against him. Theo rested his head against my shoulder, his breath gusting over my skin. I stroked the broad muscles of his back, up to the base of his neck, and threaded my fingers through his thick, silken hair. I held him to me, our sweat mingling, our breaths slowing together.
He pulled away enough to look at me. His whiskey-colored eyes glinted, and I could feel him searching me, trying to find me in the relentless dark.
Forehead to forehead, we held on to each other, and the hunger began to build again.
We weren’t done yet. Our lips met—a small touch—and then again.
And again. And again, until the fire was stoked and rising once more.
I parted my lips wide to take him deeply, to kiss away any doubt that I was satiated. I wanted more. I wanted all night.
He pulled out and I let out a small cry at the loss of him. He disposed of the condom and then came back to me and lifted me up off the counter. Under my knees and around my back, he carried me to his bedroom.
I’d never been in his space like this before.
In the dark, there were no colors and only sparse furniture: a dresser, nightstand, large bed with dark comforter.
The room smelled masculine and sharp, permeated by his cologne, his soap, his shaving cream.
I was surrounded by the scent of him, and I inhaled deeply.
He set me down on the bed and I watched his dark shape move to open a nightstand drawer for another condom. I got up on my knees, reaching for him, to pull him down on top of me with a raw urge to let him use my body any way he wanted.
And he did.
All night.
I lost track of how many orgasms I had. Or how many I gave him. The hours blurred together in a tangled, sweaty mass of aching need and hunger. Finally, as dawn threatened to dispel our safe darkness, we fell heavily into sleep.