Chapter 6 – Brinley
brINLEY
B eau kicks my bedroom door shut behind him and grabs me by the hips, pulling me against him and setting his forehead against mine. I reach for the hem of his shirt, ready to pull it over his head, but he captures my wrists.
“Wait,” he murmurs. “Just—give me a minute.”
He pulls my hands up to his chest. Feeling the swell of his muscles under his tight shirt, I’ve got no complaints. His eyes flutter shut and he takes a long, slow inhale.
“Fuck, Brinley baby. I wish I could bottle up your smell and carry it around with me.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. “You can always get a bottle of my perfume. Much more portable.”
His full lips raise into a smile. “It’s not the perfume.
It’s you.” His hands roam up my sides. God, I love how big his hands are—how big he is.
Beau isn’t just taller than me. Between his obsessive gym sessions and all the time he spends lugging crates around industrial kitchens, his body is a work of art.
It makes me feel tiny being folded up against him.
He walks me back toward my bed, our breath mingling as our lips brush lightly against each other’s. Not quite a kiss, not yet. Like he wants to know he can kiss me, but he wants to save the moment.
“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” Beau says, his hands tracing the edges of my breasts through my shirt. My nipples pebble through my bra, aching for his touch.
“Me too.” I reach for the hem of his shirt again, but Beau stops me again by taking a step back.
“You first.” His deep brown eyes are thunderstorm-dark as his gaze travels over my fitted jeans and snug T-shirt. It always steals my breath, the way he looks at me like he’s starving for me, even after all these years.
I make a show of slowly tugging my shirt up over my head. Beau’s gaze follows every inch of exposed skin, and his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip as I reach back for the clasp on my bra. Heat rises in my cheeks as Beau palms his hardening cock through his pants while he watches me.
His gaze gets hotter when I unbutton my pants and shimmy my jeans down my legs.
There was a time when I was self-conscious about my wide hips and thick thighs, but Beau’s made it clear from the beginning they’re his favorite parts of my body.
I run my fingers along my bare legs while he strokes himself.
“Panties now, Brinley baby,” he says, his voice ragged.
I grin wickedly and turn around, showing off my ass as I drag my panties off and step out of them. The sound Beau makes is somewhere between a moan and a growl.
“Fuck, that’s a beautiful sight,” he mutters, and I glance over my shoulder at him.
“Your turn.”
He pulls his henley off slow. Like he's giving me a show. Like he knows exactly what watching him strip does to me and he's going to make me earn every inch of it. From his cocky grin, he absolutely knows it.
“Take a good long look, baby,” he says, low. “I worked hard for this body.”
His pants follow, leaving him completely bare for me. His cock stands up, hard and proud, pre-cum glistening at the tip.
He sits back on the edge of the bed and spreads his legs. “Come here,” he says, extending a hand.
Happily, I straddle his lap, reveling in the heat radiating off him. He reaches for my messy bun, tugging out the pins until my hair hangs loose around my shoulders. He plunges his fingers into it and drags my lips to his.
Beau’s familiar taste makes my blood sing, my body immediately anticipating what’s coming—heated touches, breathless kisses, teeth scraping, the thick cock under me finding its way home.
I dig my fingers into his shoulders, feeling the ripples of muscles. He grabs my hips and pulls me tighter against him, the hard line of his cock grinding against my core. Hot wetness seeps from me as a fire ignites low in my belly. I rock my hips again, chasing that fire. Stoking it.
Beau’s hands move everywhere, twisting in my hair, then clutching my ass, then playing with my breasts.
The whole time, our tongues move against each other in a slow, practiced dance.
My blood burns with desire. I want to sink down on his cock at the same time I want Beau to keep playing with my body, touching and torturing me.
Then he turns, flipping me back down on the bed like I weigh nothing. He hovers above me, gazing down at my face. I raise my head to kiss him, but he stops me again with a thumb on my lower lip.
“Wait,” he rasps. “Just—just let me look at you.”
His thumb sweeps across my lip like he’s trying to memorize the feel of it.
He traces my cheek, my jaw, my neck before he finally kisses me.
His tongue moves eagerly through my mouth, tasting me.
I squirm underneath him, wrapping my legs around his hips and trying vainly to pull him down to me.
I want to feel his body, heavy on top of mine. He still holds himself apart.
“Not just yet,” Beau insists. “I want to devour you, Brin.”
A shiver runs through me as he lowers his head to my breasts. His tongue circles one nipple while his hand plays with the other. I gasp my approval and arch against him, winding my fingers into his slightly-too-long brown hair.
Once my nipples are hardened to painfully sensitive peaks, Beau moves lower down my body. He pays special attention to the sensitive undersides of my breasts before he presses hungry, open-mouthed kisses along my stomach.
“You can’t go any faster?” I ask breathlessly and he chuckles.
“I know patience isn’t one of your strengths, but try.” He kisses my hipbone. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m doing excellent work here.”
He grips my thighs in his big hands, and I gaze down at his olive skin against my pale legs. I love the contrast of it. He presses my legs apart and settles between my thighs, groaning his approval as he kisses the soft skin.
“Open for me, Brinley baby. Wider. There you go.”
His hand presses my thigh down to the mattress until I'm completely splayed, completely exposed. He just looks. For long seconds, he doesn't move, doesn't touch—just stares at the place between my legs like a man memorizing the only thing he ever needs to see again.
“Pretty fucking pussy. Pretty, perfect, soaked-for-me pussy. I could spend the rest of my life right here.”
His thumb drags through my wetness, lazy.
“And I think I'm going to.”
Then his tongue sweeps hotly up my center, and for a second, I see stars.
“Oh, god,” I cry, way too loudly. I have a roommate now, and I can’t just shriek every time Beau licks me. But I don’t know if I can stop.
He coaxes more and more pleasure from me with every long, deliberate motion of his tongue. I drip over his mouth and down his chin, knowing he loves it from the little growls vibrating against my skin.
I love nothing more than eating Beau’s cooking, and Beau loves nothing more than eating me.
He drags his tongue over my pussy until my legs are shaking uncontrollably around his head. Then, he finally raises his attention to my clit. His lips close gently around the bundle of nerves as his tongue sweeps around it.
He pulls back just enough to drag his slick mouth across the inside of my thigh. “Listen to yourself, baby. Listen to what you sound like for me.”
His finger circles my entrance, presses just inside, retreats.
“I want you to remember this every time you serve coffee tomorrow morning. Every time some asshole tries to flirt with you over the counter, I want you to remember whose mouth was on this perfect fucking cunt.”
Then his lips are back on me, and I lose the ability to think.
The world blurs, and I can barely recognize the breathless moans spilling from my mouth.
“God, please, yes,” I moan senselessly. “More, Beau, please. I need it.”
“I know, Brinley baby,” he says, raising his head for a second. “I’ll give you what you need. Just stay with me.”
He moves back to my clit and circles the flat of his tongue in slow, calculated movements.
My body turns into a pulsing pit of want.
Every nerve fires, reveling in how fucking good this feels and at the same time begging for more.
My hips buck wildly against Beau’s mouth, but he holds my thighs down with merciless strength.
The fire in my lower belly rages, growing hotter and higher and unbearable. I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t take all this, I need to come, I need?—
Fireworks of pleasure explode through my veins, making my whole body shake. My orgasm sends me off into some endless abyss of pleasure, because it’s so good, too good, better than I deserve.
I float back to earth, grounded by Beau’s thumbs circling my hips. He grins up from between my legs, his chin glistening.
“You good, Brin?”
“I’m great,” I whisper breathlessly. “Fabulous. Terrific, even.”
Beau nips gently at my thigh. “Enough with the sarcasm.”
“I’m not.” I brush back a strand of his hair. “That was…wow.”
A proud smile tugs at his mouth, and then he’s on top of me, kissing me with aching slowness.
His hands cradle my face and his hard cock presses against my belly.
The feeling of his body is so familiar, but I don’t think I’ll ever stop being struck by the impossibility of it.
The impossibility that this man would choose me .
Beau reaches between us, his hand gently stroking my pussy as he tests how sensitive I am. There’s only a prickle of over-sensitized discomfort before my body melts for him again. When he presses a long finger inside me, he meets no resistance.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Is this all for me?”
“Yes, Beau.” Always. It’s always been for you.
His dark eyes flicker with satisfaction as he eases a second finger inside. He fucks me with his hand until my thighs squeeze around his wrist, wanting more.