Chapter 18
Brooks
I pull the belt free from the hotel’s plush terry-cloth robe.
“What’s that for?” Gracyn asks, sprawled naked on the bed, looking like a goddess.
“You don’t remember?”
She gasps. “Of course. Drunk Gray had you tie her up.”
It’s not a question. She remembers. I never forgot .
Climbing onto the bed, I straddle her, moving up her body until my dick rests between her glorious tits. “Hands up,” I command. She raises them without hesitation, a playful grin tugging at her lips. I wrap the belt around her wrists. “Keep them above your head.”
She obeys, amusement dancing in her eyes as she stretches her arms over her head. When I grab my cock and stroke it once, she licks her lips. God, she’s stunning.
“You want this?” My voice is rough with desire.
Her response is in her eyes, her parted lips, her quiet surrender. I wasn’t planning this so soon, but hell, I’m not about to deny her. Or myself. I shift forward, guiding the head of my cock to her lips. She opens, flicking her tongue out to taste me, and I growl as she takes me deep. With her hands bound, I have to take control as I rock my hips, moving in and out of her mouth.
Her tongue swirls around me, her mouth hot and eager, sending jolts of pleasure straight through me. Her eyes stay locked on mine, a mix of challenge and submission that makes my blood run hotter.
“Good girl,” I murmur, and her lips curl into a faint smile around me.
I pick up the pace, thrusting deeper, testing her limits, but she never wavers. She hums around me, the vibration driving me wild.
“Gracyn,” I growl.
Her eyes flash with heat, her mouth tightening around me as she sucks me in hard. I can’t hold back anymore. Pulling free, my cock slips from her mouth with a wet pop, and I grip it tightly, stroking it twice before my release spills across her tits. The sight of her, her skin glistening, her lips swollen, sends a final jolt through me.
She looks up at me with a satisfied smirk.
There is no question why this woman has been in my bed three of the last five weekends. How can I resist this?
“Don’t move,” I say, pushing off the bed to grab a hand towel out of the bathroom. I clean her up, savoring every second of her compliance. When I reach for the ice bucket I requested be filled while we were eating, her eyes narrow with curiosity.
“Again,” I say firmly, “no hands.”
Her breath hitches, and she nods, her hands staying obediently above her head as I reach into the bucket, pulling out a single cube.
She shivers as I drag the ice cube up her inner thigh.
“Remember this,” I murmur, circling her pussy with the cold edge before pushing it inside her. Her sharp gasp echoes in the room, her body arching off the bed. I grab another piece out of the ice bucket, this time running it over her pebbled nipple.
“You’re cruel,” she whispers, her voice trembling.
My tongue catches the water as it melts over her skin. I suck on her nipple, drawing out a moan from her before I move to the other one. I trail the ice cube down her stomach until it reaches her clit. She gasps again as I circle the sensitive bundle of nerves with the cold, teasing her.
I lean down to replace the ice with my tongue, and she cries out. I lap her clit until her whimpers fill the room, her thighs squeezing my head as she loses control.
That’s it, babe, let go.
Her breathing becomes ragged, and I can feel her teetering on the edge. I slip a finger inside her, curling it so it hits the inner wall as I flick my tongue.
“Brooks!” she screams out, her release sudden, her entire body tensing.
She tries to pull away, but I wrap my arm around her thighs and grind my lips against her until she rides out her orgasm.
When I sit up, her face is flushed, and her lips part as she tries to catch her breath. “That was…” she murmurs. “Wow.”
“There’s more where that comes from,” I promise, reaching for her hands. I untie the belt from her wrists, then bring them to my lips, pressing soft kisses to the insides of them. I lean against the headboard, pulling her up so she’s straddling me, her body flush with mine. Fuck. I’m in so much trouble . I know I shouldn’t do this, but the words slip out, “Are you on birth control?”
Never have I had sex bare with a woman. I wore one with Jessie, but I learned real quick that condoms aren’t failproof.
She nods. “I’m on the pill,” she whispers.
“Do you trust me when I tell you I’m clean?”
Another nod. Her green eyes lock with mine.
“Because I need to feel inside you. All of you. Is that okay?”
Her answer is in the way her body moves, the way her hand slips between us, guiding my dick to her entrance. And as she slides down onto me, she whispers, “Yes,” against my mouth.
A guttural groan tears from my throat. Her warmth. Her tightness. The sensation of being bare is almost too much to handle. I’ve never felt this, and I know I won’t last long. When she’s fully seated, I stop her, my hands firm on her hips as I steady her. Slowly, I wrap my hand around her neck and press my forehead against hers. I close my eyes, breathing in her intoxicating scent.
“When you left a couple of weeks ago, I looked up the definition of addiction.”
Her head lifts, her gaze locking with mine. I have a hard time reading her. I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Is this more to her, too? Or is it just sex?
“What does it mean?” she whispers as her body moves again. She pushes up, sliding back down onto me at an excruciatingly slow pace.
I can’t stop the deep groan. “Compulsive engagement despite negative consequences,” I rasp, my hand tightening on her hip.
She pauses for a moment, her breathing shallow. “Sounds about right,” she murmurs, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Then she moves again, this time her rhythm is quick and unrelenting, her body molding with mine as she rides me.
The room fills with a symphony of her moans blending with the sound of skin against skin. I grip her hips tighter, guiding her as she takes me deeper. I draw her in, slamming my mouth against hers, desperate and hungry. I swallow her moans as our tongues tangle in a kiss that’s as wild as her movements.
When our kiss breaks, our breaths are ragged, loud, and raw. She throws her head back; her moans grow louder, her nails digging into my shoulders. We’re both close.
“Come with me,” I grind out.
Her body trembles, and a strangled cry escapes her lips as she comes undone in my arms, her release triggering my own. As the tremors subside, she collapses against my chest. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, my fingers trailing up and down her back.
What the fuck am I doing?
Negative consequences for the win.
* * *
“We might have to go over all that again. You know my memory is horrible, and it’s already fading.”
My insatiable wife is downright gorgeous. The hotel’s white robe hangs off her shoulder, barely draping across her right nipple as she stretches out on the couch. She sounds thoroughly sated despite what her mouth is saying. The sun sets behind her, past the wall of glass. It’s amazing how bright the oranges and yellows are here. I thought we had decent sunsets in New York, but here, I feel I’m witnessing art unfold in real time.
I walk over and grip the tie of her robe, tugging it loose, opening it up to reveal her exquisite body that I’m addicted to. Dragging my finger across her collarbone, down over her perky breast, she lets out a moan when I pinch her nipple, enough to make her arch off the couch.
Damn, she’s going to kill me. My dick is hard and raring to go again, but my head is filling with impossible things. I have to leave in the morning, and I don’t want to. Whatever this is, it’s on borrowed time. No matter how many times I make her yell my name—no matter how much I want to pretend otherwise—Gracyn will never be mine. And that pisses me off.
“Hey.” She grabs my hand as I stand back up. “What just happened?”
I sigh, shaking off the unwelcome irritation.
She closes her robe. “Then what’s wrong?”
“Truthfully?” I hesitate, meeting her gaze. She nods, but I’m not sure I can handle the truth. “Have you ever wanted to live in New York?”
I just say it.
Throw it out there.
“Hmm.”
That’s it? A simple hum.
“Sorry,” I mutter, drawing in a harsh inhale. “I always seem to make this more complicated than it needs to be.” I walk to the bedroom and slide a shirt on. Way to make things awkward.
“Brooks,” she says, following me, standing in the bedroom’s doorway. Her robe is loosely tied, her hair a mess, and yet she looks stunning. “You caught me off guard. For what it’s worth, I have. But damn, do you know how expensive it is to live in the city? On a teacher’s salary?” She strolls toward me, then wraps her arms around my waist. “I don’t know if I’m ready to give up my life here for a man I barely know.”
As much as I hate those words, I get it. If one of my friends packed up a woman and moved her cross-country after only meeting her a handful of times, I’d think he was crazy. Or she was after his money.
Well, call me crazy, because I would do it for her without a second thought.
“Do you want me to leave?” she whispers.
I kiss the top of her head. “No.” I wish all the women from my past, the ones who accused me of being emotionally unavailable or incapable of feeling, could see me now. They’d laugh at my predicament. Because this? This sucks. “I like you. Sweet with a little dirty side.” She smiles up at me. “I’ll take what I can. Whatever you want to give me.”
I sound desperate.
I am desperate.
She has my balls in a vise grip. I see it. I feel it. And yet, I can’t walk away from her.