Chapter 25 #2
“Bran.” My name was gritted through his teeth, his expression straining. “Shit...”
Using my hand on his hip, I guided him into rocking in and out of me in shallow thrusts, kicking up my heart rate each time he came close to nudging against my prostate.
Clenching down on him and giving him a test squeeze had all sorts of other curses tumbling out of his mouth, and his hand tightening on my jaw.
“That’s—” He grunted again. “Not fair.”
I wanted to laugh. Maybe to tease him if I could actually concentrate past those sparks of pleasure coursing through me.
Any other time, I would try, but at the moment my brain was short-circuiting on how fucking good it felt to have my best friend’s dick buried in my ass.
To feel that sharp burn fade into the familiar sparks of pleasure that soon had my jaw going slack.
I couldn’t help it when I slid my eyes shut again, keeping my hold on his hip as he continued to rock into me. “Keep—just like that...”
Holy fuck.
The pressure was overwhelming, swallowing me whole until all I could focus on was the passing of Avery’s cock over my prostate, hitting me perfectly like he fucking knew what he was doing.
I don’t know how the hell he was so good at getting me off, because at some point it was turning from sheer dumb luck to something else entirely.
“That good for you?” he asked. When his forehead pressed against mine, he shifted his hand away from my face, soon wrapping it around my aching cock. “You like someone fucking you like this, don’t you. How long have you been waiting?”
So fucking long.
My nails dug into his hip. I could only let out a strained groan in response to his question.
He ground his hips into my ass, clearly reading it for what it was. “I’ll make sure you forget all about them. Everyone else who touched you before me.”
I loved the possessive tone in his voice. Needed more of it, actually. I hoped that was a fucking promise he was willing to follow through on. Because at this rate, I’d be lucky to remember how to fucking breathe.
I let my leg fall back from his hip and replaced it with my hand, slapping my other one on his ass cheek and digging my nails in deep. He groaned at that, pistoning his hips back and then slamming into me.
The momentum of it pulled a strangled gasp from my lungs, all other thoughts but Avery’s cock pounding into me erased from my mind.
“Right there—” was all I could get out before my tongue got tangled on the words.
He swirled his hips slightly, nailing my prostate over and over again in time with the hand stroking my cock. It was like a race to see which was going to get me to come first: his hand or his cock. Fuck, probably both.
Was that even possible? My eyes snapped open.
Without warning, my balls squeezed, and soon, I was coming all over his hand and my belly. Waves of it dripped down his knuckles, coating them in a milky sheen that was fucking hot to look at.
Ripping my hand away from him, I hooked my leg up around his hip once more and locked it there. “Keep going. I want you filling up that condom.”
I needed to see him come again. I needed that twisted up expression to be ingrained into my mind as he emptied himself inside of me and replaced all of the fantasy versions I’d cooked up over the years.
Nothing would compare to the original, and I was ready to be proven wrong as to how I’d imagined it.
His thrusts were erratic. That tight control he usually had over himself was nowhere to be found while he lost what little he had left in the pleasure of my body.
I loved it.
I loved him.
“Oh fuck. Bran—” He was done for.
“That’s it, baby,” I babbled. “You feel so fucking good. You’re gonna make my ass yours, right?”
His expression pinched. Eyes flickering with unhindered want. “Already is.”
Yes. I slapped his ass cheek and dug my nails in again. “Show me.”
With an arched back, Avery rolled his hips once more before locking us together, fusing himself against my ass while he hissed and exploded inside of me. His moan came deep from his chest, vibrating slightly against my own when his body settled against mine.
My arms came around him instantly, curling tight to keep him tucked into my body while we both panted. I smoothed my fingers through his hair, brushing the slightly damp strands away from his forehead.
That was... wow.
He trailed lazy kisses along my jaw until he lifted his head in order to reach my lips again.
I could get used to the press of his lips against mine. Hell, I could get used to all of this.
Laying bed together. Letting our bodies slowly relax until our heartbeats were in sync again. Feeling the way his arms tightened around me and held me close like I was something precious to him.
“Come home with me in the morning.” Avery’s voice was soft as he spoke. “Hazel will cook us breakfast.”
I loved the sound of that. It was so domestic, so goddamn safe sounding. “Only if you talk her into making us those hazelnut pancakes.”
He chuckled softly, tucking his face back into my neck. “Deal.”
There had been times in my life where I’d often dreamed up moments back in time where I’d find myself being driven up to the McAllister mansion and passing through those wrought iron gates, the radio playing softly and Avery humming to it in the driver’s seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other wrapped around mine.
He’d squeeze my fingers every so often, reminding me just how vivid fantasies could be when you weren’t paying close enough attention to the outliers or the details that never quite added up the closer you looked.
But in those moments, I never cared. I’d let myself dream and pretend like it was all real until my alarm became my untimely tolling of the bell. Waking up tangled in my bed sheets with nothing but those familiar touches that had once been impressed into my skin now slowly fading into nothingness.
This morning had felt like that—being woken up by the morning light coming in through my uncovered windows, coiled around Avery with one hand woven into his hair and the other pressed against his sternum.
His heartbeat was steady under my palm, thrumming along in time with mine as I laid in the quietness of the early morning.
I prayed that none of it was some fucked up delusion my brain had cooked up to torture me. To tease me with the possibility that last night had been real. That we’d been real.
My sore limbs were, thankfully, a stark reminder. One that stung my eyes with relief as I slowly slid out of bed to head to the bathroom to shower while Avery buried his face into my pillow.
I wasn’t sure where we went from here, or if it was even the time to be having some kind of conversation about our futures with Avery’s own being so up in the air right now.
What I knew for certain, while staring into the eyes of my own reflection while I brushed my teeth, was that I was never going back to the way things were before all of this. I couldn’t. My own sanity wouldn’t be able to handle it.
I couldn’t simply move on and chalk all of this up to a one-time thing. Not when my literal heart was on the line here. Avery wouldn’t hurt me intentionally, even if all of this was far more new to him than it was to me.
Last night had given me confidence that whatever happened, he wouldn’t be shattering me to a million pieces by cutting loose and running back to the city where it was safe to deny things.
He had far too much integrity than that, and above all else, respected me too much to do something that heinous.
He was a good man. Far better than most I knew.
As I bent to spit out my toothpaste and to dip my hand under the running water to cup and use to rinse my mouth out, the door to the bathroom was slowly pushed open, and soon, a pair of arms encircled around my waist.
Popping my head up from the sink, the mess of Avery’s blond hair was all that I saw in the mirror before he buried his face into my neck and pulled me back against his chest until we were practically molded together. He let out a soft sigh, his naked chest hot against my back.
I stared at his figure in the mirror, my chest blooming with affection at the carelessly sweet gesture. Slowly, I lifted my hand up to graze through the tangled lengths of his hair that leaned over my shoulder.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Mmm,” was all he grunted out, his voice still hoarse from sleep.
It had me smiling. “Don’t tell me I wore you out.”
He puffed out a laugh against my neck. “Funny.”
The second his lips smoothed over my skin up near my ear, warmth pooled into my gut.
Not mad. Not avoiding me.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
“You’re coming over to the estate,” he said. Not a question, just simply stating a fact.
I liked that.
“You did promise me breakfast,” I teased.
When he lifted his head, a small smile played on his lips. He brought his hand up to cup my jaw, pulling me back into a soft kiss. He held me there, keeping his mouth pressed against mine in a chaste way but still somehow managed to make my body flush with heat.
The fact that this man could do something so simple and still get me all hot and bothered was ridiculous. Charming, sure, but ridiculous nonetheless.
And I lapped that shit right up.
He traced his thumb along my chin and jaw when he finally pulled away, leaving only a hair’s breadth between us. All of this sudden affection was dizzying. “Are you okay?”
What a question.
As if anything could be answered so simply. Yet, I’d asked him the same damn thing only moments ago. There was so much to say and yet no words that I could come up with to properly express any of what was circling around in my head came out.
What I did know was that this feeling of contentment—of rightness—was exactly what I’d been searching for over the last decade. The pieces of the puzzle had finally fallen into place like they’d been there all along and I’d simply needed to look elsewhere to find them.
“Yes,” I murmured.
He smiled again, his shoulders falling from their slightly tensed up position that I hadn’t noticed they were frozen in before. With another kiss, he then said, “Good.”
“Go shower,” I said, shoving him toward the drawn curtain. “Hazel will whip me with that dishrag if I let you go over there smelling like sex.”
He snatched my wrist up into a firm hold. “Only if you’re joining me.”
I looked down at the towel wrapped around my waist, barely a second’s worth of hesitation between me looking back at him again and using my free hand to tug at the knot pressed against my hip. The towel pooled at my feet.
Avery laughed and tugged me with him. “Come here.”