Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Avery
T he door to our villa burst open with a dramatic bang. Brody and I tumbled inside, all urgent kisses and wandering hands.
My back slammed against the wall with enough force to rattle the nearby wine bottles, and I let out a gasp that was part “ouch” and part “holy shit, don't stop.”
“We really shouldn't be doing this,” I managed to squeak out, even as my traitorous fingers tangled in Brody's hair, yanking him closer like he was the last drop of wine at girls' night.
My body and mind were locked in an epic battle, desire throwing punches at my rapidly crumbling professional resolve—kind of like watching a boxing match between a heavyweight champion and a wet noodle.
Brody's lips were on mine again, kissing me with an intensity that made my head spin. His hands roamed over my body like they were on a scavenger hunt, and let me tell you, they were finding some real treasures.
I met his passion with my own, so much pent-up desire finally bursting free.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes so dark with want they looked like two espresso shots, but there was a hint of uncertainty swirling in there too. He nipped at my bottom lip, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice huskier than a lumberjack with laryngitis, “and I will do it in a heartbeat.”
For a moment, I teetered on the edge of decision like a drunk sorority girl on a mechanical bull. But as I looked into Brody's eyes, seeing that same longing and fear reflected back at me, I knew there was only one choice I could make.
With a fierce determination, I reached out and slammed the door shut behind us, sealing our fate with a resounding thud.
Brody's answering grin was so wolfish, I half expected him to howl at the moon.
He pressed me back against the wall, his kisses growing more insistent than a telemarketer trying to sell you an extended warranty.
I could feel his hardness pressing against my thigh, and my whole body clenched in anticipation.
“Don't stop,” I gasped between kisses, my voice breathy and demanding all at once.
Brody didn't need to be told twice. He scooped me up like I weighed nothing, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me to the counter.
The strength in his arms—the way his muscles flexed as he held me. It was like being cradled by a Greek god, if Greek gods had perfectly styled bed-head. He stood between my legs, his hands cupping my face and looking at me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
“You sure about this, Spark?” he asked softly, giving me one last chance to back out.
His use of my nickname sent a jolt through me. Suddenly the word felt like a prayer on his lips instead of a curse.
In response, I attacked the hem of his shirt.
“Yes,” I said, surprised by the conviction in my voice. It was like my inner vixen had grabbed the mic and was ready to put on a show. “Now shut up and kiss me before I change my mind.”
Brody's expression left no room for doubt: deliberation was over; it was time for action. He helped me with his shirt, his fingers tangling with mine. As he shrugged it off, I couldn't help but run my hands over his skin. It was like touching a furnace wrapped in silk, and I marveled at the warmth and strength beneath my fingertips.
Christ, he was fucking hot. Simple as that.
He reached for my dress, his eyes asking permission like a puppy begging for treats. I nodded, my heart drumming against my ribs like it was auditioning for a heavy metal band.
His fingers found the straps, sliding them down my shoulders with the gentleness of someone unwrapping a priceless artifact. The fabric whispered down to my waist, and the cool air kissed my bare skin.
A moment of self-consciousness crept in like an uninvited party guest. But the way Brody looked at me, like I was the last slice of pizza at 3 AM after a night of drinking, chased away any doubts faster than you can say "body positivity."
"You're so fucking gorgeous," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.
His hands skimmed over my sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake like a master artist leaving brushstrokes on canvas. I pulled him down for another kiss, our lips meeting with insatiable hunger.
We were a jumble of limbs and eager touches as Brody's lips trailed fire down my neck, over my collarbone, leaving a path of tingling skin in their wake.
He took one nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling with light, teasing flicks that sent shivers through me, then gradually increasing the pressure, alternating between gentle suction and playful nibbles, each movement building on the last, creating a crescendo of sensation that had me gasping.
Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, he switched to the other side. But this time, he added a new element to his repertoire.
As his mouth worked its magic on one nipple, his fingers danced across the other, pinching and rolling in perfect counterpoint to the rhythm of his tongue.
The dual stimulation was overwhelming, like trying to focus on two different songs playing at once, except both were just “oh my God” on repeat.
My back arched involuntarily, pushing my chest further into his talented mouth.
I felt like a marionette, and Brody was pulling all the right strings.
He varied his technique with each pass, never letting me get used to one sensation before introducing another. A gentle bite here, a soothing lick there, followed by a series of quick flicks that had me seeing stars.
“Fuuuccck,” I moaned, my voice sounding as wrecked as a car after a demolition derby.
My fingers tangled in his hair, not sure if I was trying to push him closer or pull him away from the overwhelming sensations.
“Where did you learn to do that? Is there a PhD program in Nipple Studies I don't know about?”
Brody looked up at me, a mischievous glint in his eye. His lips were slightly swollen, and desire burned in his gaze.
“Let's just say I've always been good with my mouth,” he quipped before diving back in with renewed enthusiasm.
I felt a surge of desire at his words, feeling myself grow wetter with each passing second.
I reached between us, my palm closing around his rock-hard shaft. The way it quivered under my touch, like it had its own urgent heartbeat, told me his need was every bit as desperate as mine.
“I want you inside me,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.
Brody groaned in response, his hands fumbling with the button of his pants. He pulled a condom from his pocket and set it on the counter as he kicked them off, along with his boxers, revealing himself to me.
I couldn't help but stare; he was so thick and massive.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, my eyes wide. “Is that thing registered as a lethal weapon?”
Brody laughed, the sound rich and deep. “Only in seven states,” he joked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
He reached for my dress again, sliding it and my panties off with the finesse of a magician. I felt so exposed, but the way he looked at me, like I was the most delectable thing in the world, brought my confidence right back.
Brody's lips were on mine again, his tongue teasing my mouth open as his fingers explored my body.
He trailed his hand down my stomach, and I felt a shiver of anticipation run through me. When he reached the juncture between my thighs, he teased my clit, sending waves of pleasure that already had me seeing stars.
“Oh God,” I moaned, leaning back on my elbows and spreading wide for him.
Brody chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through me. “You like that, Spark?” he asked, his voice low and husky, like a sexy phone operator working the late-night shift.
“Yes,” I gasped, eloquence having long since abandoned me. “Fuck, yes. Don't stop, or I swear to God, I'll… I'll…”
“You'll what?” he teased, slowing his movements to an agonizing pace.
“I'll leave you a terrible Yelp review,” I managed to get out between gasps.
Brody continued his exquisite torture, two fingers curling upward, finding that magical spot that made my brain short-circuit.
His thumb worked my clit with the dedication of a man on a mission, circling and pressing with just the right amount of pressure.
I was a mess of sensation, my body a live wire crackling with electricity. Every nerve ending on high alert, singing with pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
Brody leaned in close, his stubble scraping deliciously against my cheek as he whispered in my ear.
“I'm going to make you come, Spark,” he growled, the promise in his words making my heart race even faster. “And when you do, I want you to scream so loud they'll hear it all the way back in the states.”
He doubled down on his efforts, working me over like it was the most important item on his to-do list. Hell, maybe it was. The idea that he was so focused on my pleasure only turned me on more, cranking the dial of my arousal up to eleven.
My mind went blank, wiped clean like a slate.
The world fell away, reality narrowing down to a pinpoint of sensation. All that was left were those fingers, doing unspeakable, wonderful things to my body.
My hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his hand, chasing that elusive peak.
I was vaguely aware that I was babbling, a stream of “Oh God,” “Don't stop,” and “Fuck, Brody” falling from my lips.
Brody's lips ghosted over my neck, his free hand snaking up, fingers tangling in my hair.
With a firm but gentle tug, he pulled my head back, exposing the vulnerable column of my throat. A whimper escaped me as his tongue traced a scorching path from my collarbone to my ear, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
His teeth grazed my earlobe, pulling slightly before he whispered, "You're so fucking beautiful when you’re naked and writhing under me."
His words sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between my thighs.
Then, without warning, his mouth found that sweet spot where my neck meets my shoulder. He latched on, teeth sinking into my flesh with just enough pressure to teeter on the knife-edge between pleasure and pain.
The slight sting of his bite only amplified the pleasure, pushing me closer to that exquisite precipice.
"Oh god, Brody," I moaned, my voice hoarse with need. “I'm so close…”
His grip in my hair tightened in response, holding me in place as he continued his delicious torment. I was wound so tight, I thought I might shatter at any moment. And Brody, the bastard, knew exactly what he was doing to me.
With one final flick of his fingers, perfectly timed with just a tiny bit more force on his bite, I was tumbling over the edge. The coil of tension in my belly snapped, pleasure exploding outward like a supernova.
My entire body convulsed with the force of my orgasm, back arching as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over me.
Did I scream? Fuck yes, I screamed. I howled like a fucking banshee.
Brody kissed up my neck, then slowly moved to my lips, swallowing those cries of pleasure as I rode out the waves of ecstasy, feeling like I was simultaneously floating and falling, caught in a whirlwind of sensation that threatened to sweep me away entirely.
Those magic fucking fingers kept working me over, gentle but relentless. Each stroke sent another jolt of pleasure ricocheting through my body, like aftershocks from the earthquake of an orgasm he'd just given me.
I couldn't help but wonder: had anyone ever played my body like this, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until I was nothing but a mass of overstimulated nerves and insatiable hunger?
Fuck no.
As I came down from my high, gasping for air like a fish out of water, and Brody finally eased his fingers out, I managed to croak, “Well, that was… certainly adequate.”
Brody's laughter filled the room, and he pulled me in for another kiss.
I felt something shift inside my brain, like tectonic plates realigning. This wasn't just physical attraction or the heat of the moment—hell, it wasn't even the spicy arrabbiata pasta we'd had for dinner.
There was a connection here, deeper and more profound than anything I'd experienced before.
As we caught our breath and traded soft kisses, I couldn't help but laugh, the joy bubbling up inside me like a shaken soda can finally popped open.
“What's so funny?” Brody asked, a bemused smile on his face.
“I just can't believe we waited this long,” I said, reaching up to brush a lock of hair from his forehead. My fingers lingered, tracing the line of his jaw. “All that wasted time. We could've been doing this instead of, I don't know, working?”
Brody's smile turned decidedly wicked. “Well, we've got a lot of catching up to do then, don't we? I've got a whole list of things I want to try with you, Spark. It's color-coded and everything.”
Before I could respond with a witty retort (which, let's be honest, probably would've just been an enthusiastic “Hell yes!”), he was kissing me again, rekindling the fire that had barely cooled.
His hands started wandering again, leaving trails of fire in their wake. I gasped as he grazed my nipple, my body arching into his touch.
“Jesus, Brody,” I panted, “are you trying to kill me?”
“Death by orgasm,” he mused, nibbling on my earlobe. “I’d say there are worse ways to go.”
“Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?” I managed to gasp out between increasingly desperate kisses.
“Definitely you,” Brody growled, his eyes dark with desire. “But now that you mention it…”
In one fluid motion that would have made a gymnast jealous, he scooped me up, grabbed the condom, and carried me toward the balcony. I let out a squeal that was half surprise, half delight.
“Brody! What are you—oh!”
The cool night air hit my overheated skin like a shock, making me shiver in the best possible way. Brody set me down gently, the tile cool beneath my feet.
The moon cast a soft glow over everything, illuminating the rolling hills and olive groves that stretched out before us like a painter's masterpiece. My body was still flushed from the intense heat of what Brody had done to me inside, and the cool night air was a welcome relief, like diving into a pool on a scorching summer day.
He turned to me, his eyes dark with desire, and a thrill of excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness trickled through me.
“Don’t worry,” Brody murmured, sensing my hesitation. “This place is designed for privacy. The landscaping and elevation make sure no one can see up here… unless they're really trying,” he finished, with a wink.
I snorted, the sound turning into a soft moan as his hands roamed over my body, tracing the curves of my hips, my waist, my breasts, and as he teased my nipples into hard points, I thought I might combust on the spot.
“If I spontaneously burst into flames,” I gasped, “I'm blaming you.”
“I'll take full responsibility,” he chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. “Now, how about we make use of this lovely view?”
He led me over to a chair and sat down, quickly putting the condom on, then pulling me onto his lap so that I was facing the landscape.
I gasped as his enormous cock pressed against me, then again as he eased me down onto him, inch by delicious inch.
I let out a soft cry as he filled me completely, my body stretching to accommodate him.
“Fuck, Spark,” Brody groaned, his fingers digging into my hips. “You feel amazing.”
I couldn't form words, could barely think beyond the intense pleasure. Brody's hands roamed over my body, guiding my movements. I leaned back against him, letting him take control, trusting him completely.
As we moved together, I looked out at the landscape, feeling a sense of awe and wonder. The rolling hills and vineyards looked like a masterpiece, the light of the moon casting shadows and highlights on the landscape.
There was a sense of connection to the earth, to the beauty of nature, and it heightened my pleasure even more. Like being part of something greater, something cosmic and eternal.
“Fuck, you feel good,” Brody whispered in my ear, his voice low and husky. “So perfect. Like you were made for me.”
I let out a soft moan and ground down on him, my body responding instantly to his words, the tension building inside me, the pleasure growing more intense with each circle of my hips. It was like climbing a mountain, each movement bringing me closer to the peak.
Brody's grip tightened, his breath hot against my neck as he growled, “Let go for me, Spark. I'm right here with you, and I'm going to fuck you through every mind-blowing second of it.”