Chapter 12
TWELVE
NAOMI
M y body moves before my brain can catch up, and I hoist myself onto the cold marble. No chance we’re stopping this.
I need it.
“Good girl.” His eyes darken. “And now… Spread. Your. Legs.”
“You always this bossy in bed?”
“This isn’t a bed.” His hands grab my knees, forcing them apart, and with it, my dress bunches up.
“So literal,” I murmur, but there’s no bite in it. I’m too busy trying to steady my breathing.
“You talk too much.” His fingers trail up my thighs.
I bite back a whimper, but it’s no use.
“That’s better,” he says.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
I grip the edge of the counter. “Do you ever shut up?”
“You could make me.” He surges forward, his lips stopping inches from mine, taunting. Daring. “By using that pretty mouth of yours.”
Every nerve ending in my body stands at attention, waiting.
Is he going to kiss me? Part of me, a big part, wants him to. “No kissing, remember?”
“Oh, I can think of other ways to keep my mouth busy.”
My core clenches, practically screaming yes.
His hands glide higher, pushing my dress up further. “Tell me what you want.”
“I thought you were going to show me.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“Brandon—”
“Say it.” His fingers skim short of where I want them. Need them. “Or I stop right now.”
My eyelids snap shut, blocking out everything but him. “Touch me.”
“Do you trust me?”
Do I? I trust Brandon, the one with the easy smiles and terrible puns, but this new version? Fuck if I know. But I nod anyway.
“Good.” He pulls back, and I exhale. “Because I’m going to make you come right here, right now, and you’re not going to make a sound. Clear?”
“You’re awfully confident.”
His fingers trace the edge of my thong again, teasing but not quite delving beneath. “Hmm.”
How did it get so hot in here? I shift, the marble counter cold against my skin, but his touch burns like fire, sparking something deep inside me.
He brushes against my clit through the fabric, making me jump. “Are we clear, Naomi?”
I grip the counter harder. “Clear.”
“Good girl.”
His approval does things it shouldn’t do.
“Don’t—” I catch myself as his thumb continues the torture. “Don’t call me that.”
“No?” His eyes lock with mine, dark and hungry. “What should I call you then?”
I open my mouth to answer, but his fingers press harder, and whatever I was going to say dissolves into a gasp.
“Shh.” His free hand settles at my throat, light but unmistakable, daring me to react. A warning. A promise. “Remember the rules.”
I want to tell him to fuck off, to stop being so smug, but then his other hand slips under the lace and—fuck.
I’m helpless. No control.
“Still want me to stop calling you a good girl?” His fingers move slowly, too slowly. Teasing.
I shake my head, not trusting my voice or trying to follow his command. I’m not sure.
“What was that?” He curls his fingers just so, and I choke down another gasp. “I didn’t quite catch your answer.”
“I hate you,” I breathe.
“And yet, you’re dripping.” He adds another finger, stretching me. “Is this all for me, cupcake?”
I glare at him, trying to deny it, maintaining some semblance of control, even as my hips twitch towards his touch. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I don’t need to.” He withdraws his fingers, and a needy whine that I want to take back escapes me while my body clenches around nothing, both betraying how much I want him.
He sinks to his knees, and the sight of Brandon Milton on the floor between my legs steals my breath. His eyes never leave mine as he hooks his fingers under the delicate lace of my thong. The fabric slides down my thighs, past my knees, pooling at my feet, and I nearly whimper again. Nearly.
But then his warm breath fans across my center. “Your body’s doing it for me.”
“Brandon…”
“Shhh.” His hands grip my thighs, spreading me wider and holding me open. “Remember. Not. A. Sound.”
Then his mouth is on me, and I have to slam my palm against my mouth to keep from crying out. His tongue licks a hot stripe up my slit before circling my clit. Once, twice. My head thunks back against the mirror, eyes squeezing shut.
How is this better than a vibrator? I’m going to fucking lose it.
He pulls back just enough to murmur, “Eyes on me. I want to see you.”
Following his command, my eyes flutter open immediately, meeting his heated gaze, and the sight of him between my legs, his lips glistening with my arousal…
He’s hunger personified like he’s starving, and I’m the feast laid out before him. Exposed, vulnerable, and yet I’ve never felt more powerful.
Holding my gaze, he lowers his mouth again. My nails dig into the marble as he builds a rhythm that leaves me breathless. Each stroke of his tongue, each demanding suck, draws desperate sounds I have to swallow back. My thighs tremble against his grip, and my heels clatter to the floor, forgotten.
His fingers dig deeper into the flesh of my thighs, holding me in place as his mouth works me with a skill that should be illegal. So illegal, that I’m sure I’ve bitten my lip hard enough to draw blood.
His name is a litany in my head, a prayer and a curse all at once.
Brandon. Brandon. Brandon.
“Brandon,” I gasp out.
“I told you to be quiet.” His voice is a low growl, vibrating against my sensitive flesh. “Do I need to gag you, cupcake?”
My heart pounds in a frantic rhythm that matches the throbbing between my legs. I should tell him to go to hell. I should push him away and get the fuck out of here. But instead, I find myself shaking my head, my breath coming in short, sharp pants.
“No,” I manage to say. “I’ll be quiet.”
He rewards me with a slow, deliberate thrust of his fingers, filling me and curling against that spot deep inside in a way that has me squirming.
Low in my belly the tension coils, a spring wound too tight. My hands fist in his hair, pulling just enough to let him know I’m close. He responds by increasing the pressure, the suction, and adding another finger.
So close, just a little more. “Brandon…”
He stops.
My eyes fly open. “What the fuck?”
His fingers keep up a slow but steady rhythm inside me. “You broke the rules.”
“You’re an asshole.”
He smirks. “I’m the asshole currently knuckle-deep inside you, so I’d be nice if I were you.”
“Fu—”
His thumb presses against my lips. “Ah ah. Watch that pretty mouth before you get yourself in trouble again.”
“I swear to god, Milton, if you don’t?—”
“Is that how you ask nicely?” He presses down on my clit, and my vision whites out for a second. “Try again.”
I try for a withering glare, but I’m too far gone to pull it off.
“What’s it going to be?” His breath ghosts over my slick folds. “You going to behave this time?”
I nod.
“Beg me.”
Bastard. I swallow my pride, along with the moan rising in my throat. “Please.”
“Only good girls get rewarded.” The blue of his eyes turns black. “Remember that.”
A jolt of pleasure shoots through me, and I choke back another moan as he rewards me by returning his attention to my clit and thrusting his fingers deep inside me.
Each lap of his tongue is deliberate and maddeningly slow. It’s a sweet, torturous ecstasy that has me back, teetering on the edge in seconds, desperate for release but equally desperate to make this moment last forever.
I’m wound so tight, right there, so close it’s painful.
“That’s it, cupcake,” he rasps against my flesh. “Come for me. Let me taste you.”
And that’s all it takes. Those words, the rumble of his voice, the illegal curl of his fingers. I shatter, vision fading to white as pleasure crashes over me in relentless waves. My body bows, trying to escape.
Brandon surges up, his palm slamming over my mouth, muffling the scream that tears from my throat. His other hand keeps working between my legs, driving me through the peak of my orgasm and straight into another.
My body jerks and trembles, caught between the pleasure still coursing through me and the sudden, suffocating pressure of his hand.
Our eyes lock, his dark pupils blown wide with desire.
There’s something else there, a hunger, a possession that makes my insides contract all over again.
I try to close my legs, to shut out the unbearable pleasure, but his hips are too wide, his body a barricade. I’m helpless, completely at his mercy, and the realization sends another jolt straight to my core.
I have no control.
“Shh.” His breath is hot against my ear. “Don’t want the whole family to hear what a dirty girl you are, do we?”
I glare at him over his hand, but it lacks heat. I’m too wrung out, too blissed out to muster any real anger. His fingers are still moving inside me, slower but no less intense, against my overstimulated flesh.
And then it stops. He removes his hand, and my body collapses in on itself, trembling and spent. He stays close, crowding my space as his slick fingers trace from my cheek to my lips.
“Delicious.” His lips lock around his fingers that just touched mine. “Like my favorite cupcake.”
My heartbeat slows, but my body still feels electrified, and I struggle to focus on Brandon’s face through the post-orgasm haze.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He presses a kiss to my neck. “Even when you’re breaking apart, there’s something about you that just… fucking… shines.”
This is bad.
I shove my dress back down.
“You okay?”
“Fine.” I push at his chest. “Move.”
He doesn’t budge. “That’s all I get? ‘Fine’?”
“What do you want, a performance review?”
“I think your performance spoke for itself.” His smirk makes me want to slap him. Or kiss him. “Do you need another demonstration?”
Definitely slap him.
I hop off the counter, forcing some distance between us before my traitorous body gets any more ideas. “Not happening.”
“We’ll see.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” I turn and catch my reflection in the mirror.
A strange sort of pride wells up inside me.
My skin is flushed, lips swollen. I look thoroughly fucked. Although, he didn’t fuck me.
“You really good?” He rests his hands on my hips, and our eyes meet in the glass.
I’m not sure what just happened, but it makes me want to run away and not be here, in this moment.
“That wasn’t what you initially offered,” I say.