Chapter 2 – Seth #2
The hunger hits hard, hot enough that I have to lock every muscle in my body just to keep from taking more than I should.
From coming too soon. And Brianna doesn’t make restraint easy.
Not when she looks at me like a challenge.
Not when she spreads herself out under me like she already knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
Handling a woman this bold, this confident, should probably intimidate me after being out of commission so long.
Instead, it makes me feel dangerously alive.
Dangerous because this feeling could be addicting.
I clear my throat because I realize it’s too silent in here. Maybe I should put on some music for us.
“You comfortable?”
She props herself up on her elbows, watching me with those sharp green eyes, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“Yeah. Are you?”
“I’m fantastic.”
I lower my face, licking a wet, sloppy stripe up her pussy, ending with a slow, messy flick over her clit.
My tongue lingers there, exploring, tracing lazy circles around it before moving down across her lips, kissing, savoring, dragging out the tease and enjoying her taste.
She tastes sweet and heady, and fuck, I think I’m already addicted to this.
Her legs shift, thighs spreading even wider like she’s silently begging for it, her heels digging into the mattress as her fingers slide into my hair and tighten just enough to keep me exactly where she wants me.
And dammit. You know those little things you miss, the ones you don’t even realize until you have them again?
Yeah, this is one of those things. A woman’s fingers in my hair, scratching lightly while I work on pleasing her between her thighs.
I push my tongue inside her, slow at first, tasting just how wet she is all over my mouth and beard, dragging out the moment, soaking up every little twitch of her body.
“What are you doing?” she whispers from above me.
I glance up just enough to meet her gaze.
“I’m taking my time,” I explain like it’s obvious.
Her brows furrow slightly, like she can’t quite process that answer. “But… why?”
Her green eyes are darker now, deep and stormy, more like the forest at nightfall than the bright jade they were back at the bar.
“Because kisses aren’t meant to satisfy,” I tell her, pressing a soft one to one side of her inner thighs then switching to the other before dropping one right on her clit. “They’re meant to leave you wanting more. And I want you to want more before I fuck you, Brianna.”
Her breath catches, her mouth parts just slightly. “Seth…”
I don’t wait for her to finish. I dive back in eagerly.
This time, I focus my attention on her clit, flicking over and over while I push two fingers inside her pussy, curling slow and lazy, keeping her open for me.
She’s tight, soaking wet, and when I press my palm against the inside of her thighs to keep her still, I feel a whole-body tremor run through her.
“Seth…” she whispers, her voice thinner. “Don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
She moans. Her head tips back against the mattress, and I know she’s getting closer now. I double down, alternating between sucking and flicking at her clit while slipping a third finger inside her, feeling the way her body clenches and grips around me.
“Seth… I’m—I’m close,” she gasps, her voice breaking.
And then I feel it. The forceful contraction of her pussy gripping my fingers, waves rolling through her as she moans, coming hard, her body jerking with each pulse of her orgasm.
I keep working her through it, drawing out every tremor, but ease my third finger out to give her some space, letting her come down and have some room to recover.
When she finally stills, she props herself up on her elbows, looking at me with a different expression now.
It’s softer, almost dazed. I drag my fingers out of her pussy in a sloppy squish and bring them to my lips, painting my bottom one with her taste and then lapping it up with my tongue.
Her chest rises and falls like she’s catching her breath.
And then, like she’s suddenly snapped back to reality, she moves.
She flips onto her hands and knees, arches her back, red waves falling in a messy curtain down her spine as she looks over her shoulder at me.
“Take me from behind,” she whispers.
I stand, yanking my belt loose, shoving my jeans down while ripping off my shirt. I tear open a condom from my pocket, roll it down my length before gripping her hips, smoothing my hand over the curve of her ass then up to her spine to position her perfectly.
And that’s when I see it. A tiny, delicate bird tattoo, inked right at the top of her left shoulder.
It’s small, just the faintest outline, but something about seeing something so gentle on this woman stops me.
My thumb traces over it, my other hand flexing against her hip as she shifts backward, pressing her ass against my cock.
“What’s this for?” I ask, memorizing the simple outline.
She glances over her shoulder at me.
“I got it for my mom,” she says softly. “It’s a bluebird. It symbolizes hope, peace and renewal. She was a big believer in slowing down and always finding the beauty and romance in every moment. Sadly, she passed away a few months ago.”
My hand stills over the tattoo, and something about it hits deep.
I know exactly what it feels like to watch a daughter lose her mother.
My little girl lost hers—my late wife—way too damn young.
I know that kind of grief. The hollow ache that settles into your bones and never really leaves.
You just learn how to carry it. I’ve seen it in my daughter’s eyes for years now.
I’ve tried to love it out of her but it’s still there.
Three years ago, I thought I was giving her a second chance at having that kind of love again with my ex. Turns out, I barely knew that woman at all. I was just trying to shove something into the empty space and hoping it would fit.
I drag my fingers over the ink one last time before lifting my gaze to Brianna. She’s still watching me over her shoulder, eyes heavy, bottom lip caught between her teeth, and I have to force myself to look away before I do something reckless.
Like ask if she wants my number after this.
Tell her I wouldn’t mind seeing her again.
Instead, I grip her hips and line myself up before pushing into her in one smooth, hard thrust. She pulls me in tight, hot and slick around me, and fuck, every coherent thought leaves my head. There’s nothing left except her and me and this simple moment where we’re both after nothing but pleasure.
And through each thrust I see that bluebird. I think about hope and how it’s a funny thing that finds you when you least expect it.