Chapter 4
4
JORDAN
F eeling a spark of courage, I push Bronson’s pants down. His cock springs out, so hard and... long.
Very long.
Longer than I expected.
“Jordan,” he says when he catches me staring.
“Sorry!” I say. “That’s, uh… that’s one handsome dick you’ve got there.”
“Thank you.”
“Looks... sturdy.”
“Sturdy?”
“Not sturdy! That’s the wrong word.” I peek at it again. “Actually, no. That’s accurate.”
Bronson chuckles. “Jordan.”
“Hm?”
“You can call it whatever you want,” he says, his kiss falling to my neck again. “As long as you moan it.”
I blush nervously. “Oh, okay.”
Bronson sits back on his knees. He touches my thighs, crawling his hands to my shorts. This time, when he pulls them down, I don’t stop him. I straighten my legs, letting him pull them down to my ankles and toss them aside.
And just like that, I’m naked.
And so is he.
I take in the thickness of his arms and the flow of his abs. Biting my cheek, I glance again at his cock, so hard and prominent, pointed up toward his navel. Meanwhile, his eyes wander my breasts as he glides his hands along my thighs.
He looks at my pussy and he bites his bottom lip.
“What?” I ask cautiously.
He looks me over again. “Sturdy.”
I smack his arm. “Don’t make fun of me!”
Bronson chuckles as he grabs my wrists, his mouth forming a deep smirk as he pins my hands above my head. He leans over me and kisses me again. We resume that delightfully familiar rhythm of our bodies flush against one another, our parts teasing and tempting. This time, it’s skin on skin. Body heat on body heat.
“Bronson,” I whisper, his cock so close, my pussy so wet.
He twists to grab his pants, reaching into the pocket for a condom. Seconds pass in a blur, the moments between now and the point of no return getting shorter and shorter. He puts the condom on. He aligns us. He kisses me deeper and deeper still.
Only one thrust away from changing our friendship forever.
Doubt curls in my stomach again, weak but present.
“Bronson,” I murmur.
He looks at me, the moment heavy in his eyes, too.
“Is this a huge mistake?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he says.
“Then... should we stop?”
I shudder as his lips come to my neck again.
“Relax, Jordan,” he whispers. “I’ll make you feel good.”
His words vibrate in my ears as he reaches between us. He grabs his cock, guiding it to rub between my lips.
I gasp softly, the mix of it and his sweet tongue against my neck making me quiver. He keeps teasing me, touching his tip to my entrance and pulling back to massage my clit.
Just when I’m about to beg, he pushes in. His girth takes me by surprise, but instant pleasure quickly overwhelms the dull stretch.
“Oh, jeez,” I say, my toes curling. “Oh, wow.”
Bronson thrusts again, going deeper.
“Holy—” I moan. “Big! That’s so big!”
“Does it hurt?”
“No! Yes! It’s good, though. Keep going.”
He rests his head on my shoulder and obeys.
I cling to his thick shoulders. I lock my ankles together around his back. “Shit. You weren’t kidding,” I say. “This feels good. It feels so good.”
He says nothing, his hips working steadily.
“I mean...” My core flexes and relaxes, a wave of pleasure pulsing from my clit as he brushes against it. “Oh, god. You’re?—”
“Jordan.”
“Hm?”
Bronson slaps a hand over my mouth.
Silenced, I moan instead. I raise my knees higher and squeeze his rear. I urge him to make me feel good.
And he does.
Oh, he does.
I moan against his hand, my words lost, but he seems to get the idea. He fucks me slowly, but hard, each stroke rocking me closer to the headboard. When one of his fingers slips into my mouth, I suck on it, happy to tease and taste him.
He raises his head to look at my pursed lips wrapped around his knuckle, his eyes wide with hungry heat. He drags his finger from between my lips and slides his hand between our bodies, his fingers coming to rest on my clit.
“Bronson,” I moan as he rubs, as he thrusts. “Oh, shit…”
He shifts up, keeping his cock deep inside, keeping his flicking thumb on my clit. Every little thing he does sends me closer to the edge.
“Jordan,” he says, his voice suddenly deeper, smoother. “Do you like that?”
“Yes,” I say, shaking to the core.
“How does it feel to have my cock inside of you?”
I don’t answer. I moan, hoping that’s a good enough answer.
“Jordan,” he says, pressing harder against my clit, his hips rolling as he fucks me. “How does it feel?”
“Good!” I say, throwing my head back. “You feel so good.”
“Are you going to come for me?” he asks, so smooth. “I want to feel that pussy clench.”
I whimper, the pleasure almost too much. “Bronson.”
“Come for me, Jordan. Let me feel it.”
Another thrust, another rub, and every part of me releases at once. Every muscle tightens in climax, only to instantly turn to jelly.
And Bronson keeps fucking me.
“Yes,” he growls, his cock still so deep. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
I open my eyes, catching my breath. I look at him over me, his body so perfect, his cock still buried in me. His eyes, full of desire, lock on mine questionably, silently asking if I want more.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Don’t stop. Please.”
Bronson smirks.
Then, he pulls out.
Before I can protest, he takes hold of his cock again and teases it along my slit. “You want more?” he asks.
I twitch, so sensitive. “Yes.”
“Do you want to come again?” he asks as he pushes the tip against my entrance, only to pull it away again.
“Yes,” I moan. “Please.”
Bronson drops it and extends his hand. “Come here.”
I helplessly flop my hand onto his, and he pulls me up. He sits back on the bed, his strong hands holding me up on him. Those animal instincts take over again. Already missing the feel of him inside of me, I lower myself onto his cock.
He digs his fingers into my sides as he performs upward thrusts. I balance myself, tightening my core as I feel my pussy clench around him. I moan as he groans, our breaths coming faster.
“Bronson,” I moan, so close again.
He moves his hands to my breasts, purposefully tweaking my nipples, and I shudder with pleasure. I meet his thrusts, every thick inch of him working to make me come again.
When I do, I gasp and hold my breath, the rocking waves of orgasm threatening to knock me over. But Bronson holds on. His arms curl around me. He buries his face in my breasts, and grunts. His thrusts come to a slow stop, his cock pulsing with release inside of me.
Still holding me, Bronson lies back onto the bed. I collapse against him, our skin slick with sweat. His heart pounds hard against my ear. Our quick breaths grow slower, shallower.
We don’t say a word.
I’m too relaxed. Too weak to speak or even move. I let myself rest, cradled in his arms. When I think he’s fallen asleep, I feel his fingers trace a line along the side of my face, pushing my sweat-damp hair back behind my ear.
“Jordan?” he says. “Are you okay?”
I smile, but I don’t move. “Yes. Keep doing that, please.”
He runs his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my eyelids growing heavy.
“Jordan?” he asks after... a minute? Maybe two?
“Hm?” I ask, so tired. So heavy.
I hear nothing else.