Chapter 23 Annie #2
Brooks surged forward, his lips crashing against mine with a hunger I hadn’t expected, from this tender moment.
His mouth was warm and demanding, tasting faintly of wine and something entirely him.
I let out a soft sound that he swallowed with a groan, his hand sliding from my jaw to cradle the back of my neck as he pulled me closer.
The room spun in warmth—the fire, the Christmas lights, the low hum of holiday music we weren’t hearing anymore.
All that existed was the feel of him pressed against me, the heat rolling off his body as his other hand found my hip, fingers curling possessively as if he couldn’t stand the idea of me slipping away.
When he finally pulled back, just enough to breathe, his forehead pressed to mine. Both of us were unsteady, hearts racing, breaths mingling in the charged space between us.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he rasped, his thumb brushing my cheek again, softer now but no less intense. “I told myself I could do this without crossing any lines. I told myself I’d be okay when I knew I’d have to leave.”
“Then don’t leave,” I whispered, desperate, the plea breaking free before I could stop it.
His eyes closed briefly, as if the words gutted him. When he opened them, the firelight reflected in his gaze, burning hotter than the flames crackling behind us.
“You make it sound so damn easy.” His hand slid lower, tracing along my collarbone, igniting goosebumps in its wake. “But… if I stay, I’m not sure I could ever let you go.”
My breath caught, every word sinking deep into my bones. I cupped his face in my hands, my thumb brushing along the rough edge of his jaw.
The silence stretched, weighted and alive, before he kissed me again—slower this time, deeper, like he was memorizing me. His hands roamed, tentative but heated, tracing down my arms, my sides, until I was trembling beneath his touch.
“I don’t want you to let me go.”
I straddled him, knees digging into the floor as I rose up, towering over him. My hands framed his face, desperate, trembling. “Don’t. Go. Stay with us. Stay with me.”
I’d sworn, after my husband, that I’d never beg another man. That I’d never hand my hope to someone who could shatter it so easily. But here I was, coming apart on top of my nanny, begging him not to leave.
His hands gripped my ass, kneading, pulling me tight before dragging up the curve of my back and sliding under my sweater. Heat followed his touch like sparks catching dry kindling. Every inch he claimed made me burn brighter.
I leaned down, capturing his mouth. The kiss was a collision—tongues tangling, moans feeding off each other, the kind of kiss that felt like a lifetime condensed into a moment.
I rocked against him, dragging my wet core across the hard ridge pressing up from his jeans. “Take me, Brooks. Have your way with me. I’m yours.”
A guttural groan tore from his throat as he broke the kiss.
Then he was standing, lifting me clean off the floor like I weighed nothing, my legs clamping around his waist, arms clinging to his neck.
His mouth crushed to mine again as he carried me, stumbling blindly until he lowered me onto the rug before the fire.
Flames licked and snapped behind me, heat kissing my bare arms, but all I felt was him.
Brooks loomed over me, eyes blazing, hands at my waist as he yanked my sweater up and over my head with a growl.
I clawed back, tugging at his shirt, shoving it up until his chest was bared.
Clothes disappeared in frantic grabs, torn away until skin pressed to skin, feverish and hungry.
I slid my hand down, wrapping around his thick length and stroking slow, taunting. My other hand closed lightly around his throat, and his answering growl vibrated against my palm. His eyes went feral.
“Careful,” he rasped. “You’ll pay for that.”
Before I could smirk, he flipped me, hauling me upright into his lap, my back against his chest, his cock pressed hot and heavy against me. His mouth grazed my ear, and then something cool brushed my wrists.
Tinsel.
Brooks had grabbed a strand from the tree, silvery and sparkling in the firelight. He wound it around my wrists, binding them tight against my back, the metallic strands biting lightly into my skin. The idea of my hands glittering with Christmas ribbon made my pulse hammer.
“You begged me not to let you go,” he growled against my ear. The tinsel tightened with another pull. “Now I won’t.”
I gasped as his hands roamed, free now to grip my breasts, to slide lower across my belly and between my thighs. The contrast of restraint and his rough touch had me shuddering.
He then lowered me down, my face pressed against the carpet.
Brooks hovered behind me, holding my hands bound tight in the tinsel as he dragged his cock slowly along my core. His thick length pressed against the curve of my ass, teasing, testing, driving me insane with the way he hovered just out of reach.
I moaned, biting my lip as I cut him a glare over my shoulder. His eyes were molten, pupils blown wide, staring at me like I was the only thing in the world worth consuming.
I arched, pushing my ass back against him, taunting, begging without words. My body was trembling with need, slick and aching, every nerve screaming for him to finally take me.
Brooks tightened the tinsel, pulling my bound hands higher until my shoulders stretched back, my chest thrusting out.
The roughness of it, the glitter biting into my skin, made me gasp.
He lined himself up with my entrance, the swollen head of his cock slipping just inside before pulling away again.
“Brooks,” I whined, shoving my hips back toward him.
He chuckled low, dark. “Needy, are we, baby?”
“Yes,” I gasped. “God, yes. I need you.”
“That’s my girl,” he rasped, and then he thrust—stretching me wide. I cried out, knees sliding against the rug as he buried himself inside me.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he growled, gripping my hip hard. “Gripping me like you were made for this cock.”
I moaned shamelessly, head falling forward, hair spilling into my face. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”
“Oh, I’m not stopping,” he promised, voice rough as he slammed in deeper. The sound of our bodies meeting filled the room, wet, desperate. His thrusts grew harder, faster. The tinsel was cutting into my wrists as I writhed helplessly against him.
“Say it,” he demanded, pulling me back onto him, driving himself deeper. “Tell me whose pussy this is.”
“Yours,” I sobbed, the word breaking on a moan. “It’s yours, Brooks. All yours.”
“That’s right,” he growled, his pace turning brutal, fucking me so deep the firelight blurred in front of my eyes. “Begged me to stay, now I’m not going anywhere. You’re mine.”
Pleasure surged sharp and wild through me, my whole body clenching around him. “Brooks—oh, fuck…I’m gonna—”
“Come for me, baby,” he ordered, one hand slipping down to circle my clit while the other yanked the tinsel tighter. “Come all over my cock. Now.”
My release hit like a wave crashing, tearing through me as I screamed his name, body shuddering and pulsing around him. Brooks groaned deep, his thrusts growing frantic before he buried himself hard one last time, spilling inside me with a roar.
We collapsed forward, breathless, the fire crackling beside us and the faint jingle of tinsel still binding my wrists. His chest pressed into my back, his mouth hot against my shoulder as he whispered, “You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere.”
What it would look like, what we would look like if he stayed, was a tomorrow problem. Tonight, I was getting lost in him over and over until I couldn’t walk in the morning.
“What do you say we leave this mess for the morning and carry all of this upstairs instead?” Brooks’ voice was low, rough with satisfaction.
“I’d say hell yes,” I breathed, still trembling as he helped me out of my position. He pulled at the tinsel, releasing my wrists.
“And what do you say,” he murmured, holding up the glittery strands, “about letting me be the one tied up next?”
My lips curved, pulse quickening. “You want me to tie you up?”
“Hell yeah,” he growled, heat flickering in his eyes.
I laughed softly, the sound husky with everything he’d just done to me. Brooks bent down and scooped me into his arms with infuriating ease, carrying me toward the stairs as though I weighed nothing. My arms looped around his neck, my cheek pressed to the steady thud of his heart.
Step by step, we climbed, his chest brushing mine with every rise, his gaze locked on me like I was the only thing that mattered in the world.
“Thank God Ruby’s a deep sleeper,” I whispered, breathless at the thought of how reckless we were being.
“Truly a blessing,” he murmured against my temple, his lips grazing me in a way that made my toes curl.
The bedroom door shut behind us with a quiet click, sealing us off from the world.
Whatever waited in the morning—the wrapping paper scattered across the floor, the fire burned low in the hearth—could wait.
Tonight was for us. For hours spent tangled together, bound by more than glittering strands, wrapped up in sheets that smelled like him.