Aubrey
“You are in so much trouble right now.” The sound of Trent’s voice has my eyes snapping open and a smirk forming across my face.
I pull my hand from the front of my panties, my body still trembling from the release that I’ve been desperate for all day and bring my hands up to my lips before opening my mouth and sucking my fingers.
I keep my eyes on Trent and watch them darken, “Who me?” I say innocently.
“What the fuck was that?”
“That was me taking the edge off. I’m so desperate for you I couldn’t stop myself.”
“Fuck Bree.” He says leaning back against the door. “You're so desperate for my cock you had to make yourself come right now?”
“So desperate for it. Please give it to me.” I beg.
“You want it?” His smirk widens, “Come and get it.”
I take a deliberate step forward, meeting his challenge head-on—only for his palm to lift up like a stop sign between us.
“Uh-uh,” he drawls, eyes glinting with mischief. “You’ll have to crawl on your hands and knees for it.”
My jaw drops. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m deadly serious,” he says, voice low and rough.
“The thought of you on your hands and knees crawling to me… fuck, it’s making me hard just thinking about it.
” His hand drops to adjust the very obvious bulge in his jeans, and damn if that alone doesn’t send heat flooding straight between my thighs.
This man has dragged me so far past my comfort zone so many times I don’t even remember where the line is anymore. But the thought of actually doing what he wants—dropping to my hands and knees, crawling to him while he watches me like he’s starving—has my body moving before my brain can catch up.
“Fuck,” he groans the moment I start, my palms pressing against the floor as I prowl forward. My eyes lock on his, unbreaking, unblinking, as I stalk closer.
“You look so fucking pretty like that,” he murmurs, his voice thick with hunger.
When I finally reach him, I’m practically panting, desperate for him. I kneel in front of him, sliding my hands up his thighs, slow and deliberate, and watch his eyes flare as my fingers find the buckle of his belt.
“What’s that mouth going to do, huh?” he rasps, his voice low and wrecked, gaze burning into mine.
Instead of answering, I pop the buckle, ease down his zipper, and in one fluid motion tug his jeans and boxers past his hips—freeing his long, thick, hard cock.
“It’s going to fucking ruin you,” I whisper, my voice husky with promise. Then I lean in, dragging my tongue in one slow line from the heavy weight of his balls up to the swollen head of his cock, never breaking eye contact. The groan that rumbles from his chest makes me smile against him.
The power I feel—even on my knees—is intoxicating, an addiction I can’t shake. It drives me forward as I swirl my tongue around the tip, flicking against the sensitive underside and savoring the guttural moan that rips from Trent’s throat.
His fingers thread through my hair, tugging just the way I usually love, the way that lets him take control.
But not this time. This time, I want control, the needy look in his eyes has me desperate for it.
I ease back, lips glistening, and wrap my hand around him instead, stroking slow and firm, twisting my wrists just right when I reach the head.
“If you want this mouth,” I murmur, teasing him with a feather-light kiss against the tip, “you’re going to have to be a good boy and keep your hands behind you.”
His eyes snap open, disbelief flickering through the heat, then his hips flex forward—an involuntary give that says how desperate he is. “What?” he breathes.
“You heard me.” I dip my voice low. “You might think this is for you, but it’s not. This is for me. You’re not allowed to touch me.” I watch his face change, hunger sharpening into something more obedient as he slides his hands from my hair and palms them behind his back.
This is one of the many things I love about Trent: he craves control in the bedroom, but he also loves handing it over and the thought of steering his pleasure makes my clit throb with need.
“You can’t touch me, and you can’t come until I say so. Understand?”
“Yeah, baby. I understand,” he rasps, his voice thick with need.
“Good boy.” I murmur, and the word lands between us like a promise.
I curl my hand tighter around him, dragging slowly from base to tip, then loosening my grip just when I know he wants more. His jaw clenches, his eyes pinned on me, and I can see the battle he’s fighting not to thrust into my fist.
“That’s it,” I purr, circling my thumb over the head until his hips jerk. “You’re going to take exactly what I give you.”
“Bree…” His voice cracks with warning and need all at once, but I only smile sweetly and pull back, leaving him aching, twitching in the air between us.
“Uh-uh,” I remind him, stroking him again—this time just the tip, lazy and cruel. “Good boys don’t whine. Good boys wait.”
He groans, head tipping back against the door, the tendons in his neck standing out. “You’re killing me.”
“Am I?” I lean forward, licking one slow stripe up his length, stopping just short of his crown. His whole body shudders, and I pull back again, smirking. “Funny… you look very much alive to me.”
“Fuck, Bree.” His voice is raw now, desperate. His hips twitch but his hands stay locked behind his back. “Please. I need your mouth. I’ll be good, I swear.”
I tilt my head, letting the silence stretch, loving the way his chest heaves with every breath. Then I drag my tongue across my lower lip and whisper, “Beg harder.”
His eyes burn into mine, wild and desperate, his cock straining in my hand as I drag another slow stroke from base to tip.
“Bree, please. Fuck, please baby, please.” he groans, his hips jerking involuntarily.
I lean forward, taking him all the way to the back of my throat before pulling back slightly, keeping him firmly in my mouth.
I lift my gaze to meet his, and the look on his face—desperate, feral, utterly undone—is enough to make me ache with need.
I hollow my cheeks and begin bobbing my head up and down his length, taking him all the way back until he bumps the back of my throat, and I swallow him down in one smooth, greedy motion.
“Oh fuck, fuck,” he rasps, his voice cracking with need. “Just like that.”
I moan around him, tongue circling, taking him deeper, slower, savoring every shiver that ripples through his body.
Tears spill down my cheeks, and a thin line of saliva dribbles down my chin as I edge him closer and closer to the brink.
“I love it when you’re like this for me… all messy, all mine,” he groans, voice rough and ragged. “You look so damn good. Let me touch you, baby… I want to fuck your throat the way you like.”
I moan my approval, barely nodding, and that’s all it takes. His hands grip my hair tightly, and his hips begin to piston into my mouth, each thrust driving deeper until he hits the back of my throat.
“Fuck yes… eyes on me, pretty girl,” he groans, voice ragged. “Keep those beautiful brown eyes on me while I fuck this perfect throat of yours.”
Unable to resist, I slide one hand down his thigh and between my legs, my fingers finding my clit just as his pace becomes merciless. I know he’s close, and I ache to come again, but this time at the same time he does.
The instant my fingers brush over my throbbing clit, a moan gurgles around him, my eyes rolling back as pleasure ignites. I’m teetering on the edge, every nerve screaming.
“That’s it, my dirty fucking girl,” he growls. “Rub that needy little clit for me while I fuck your throat.” His hips snap harder. “Fuck, Bree… I’m going to come.”
Hot ropes of cum flood my mouth, and my orgasm rips through me in a shuddering wave. I choke and gasp, swallowing every last drop as he shatters down the back of my throat, our moans mingling in a messy, perfect chaos of pleasure.
“Holy shit,” Trent groans, pulling out of my mouth, his hips still trembling from the force of his release. He tugs his jeans back into place, then grabs me, pulling me upright and pressing me close.
“You’re still in so much trouble,” he whispers against my ear, his hands roaming over me.
I pull back just enough to look at him. “Did I not just make it up to you?”
“Oh, you did,” he says, eyes dark with heat, “but that doesn’t erase the fact that you were a little thief.”
“A thief?” I laugh softly. “What exactly did I steal?”
“Your orgasm,” he growls, voice low and teasing. “All of them are mine, and you took it without permission.”
I shiver. “Fuck… that’s hot.”
“You better believe when I get you back home, I’m going to edge you until you’re begging me to let you come,” he murmurs, gripping me tighter.
“Tears will be streaming down this pretty little face while I play with this perfect body. Only once I feel like you’ve suffered enough will I let you come. ”
I press my hands against his chest, breathless. “You’re so mean.”
“Mean is sending me a photo with your hand in your panties while I’m sitting in a room with your brothers and dad.” He smirks at me before slapping my ass hard.
I gasp, heat blooming through me, and before I can even react, he pulls me into a deep kiss. When he finally breaks away, his forehead rests against mine. “We better get back before anyone notices we’re missing.”
I nod, biting my lip, and Trent steps aside at the door, his hand brushing my waist as I squeeze past him. As I push it open, he slaps my ass again. I’m about to fire off something sassy when my eyes lock on Brandon—standing in the hallway, frozen, his gaze flicking between me and Trent.
My whole body freezes, stomach twisting, a surge of panic making it hard to breathe, as I feel Trent pressing close behind me.
“Brandon…” I start, my voice trembling.
I track his movement, but he doesn’t look back as the bathroom door clicks shut.
“Fuck,” I whisper, turning to Trent. His wide-eyed, panicked expression mirrors my own.
For a moment, neither of us moves. The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating, and I can’t stop the spiral in my head.
The weight of it presses down on me, and all I can do is stand here, frozen, heart hammering, while the reality of what just happened sinks in.