CHAPTER FORTY Brandon #3
I feel her breath catch as my gaze wanders over her head, noticing a metal table in the corner of the room. I’m sure it’s meant for supplies or equipment or whatever other garbage Jake leaves lying around. But right now? I have a much different, much dirtier use in mind.
I start guiding us backward slowly, my hands settling at her waist—steady and deliberate. She catches on to my plan almost immediately.
Of course she does.
A slow smile spreads across her lips, her eyes never leaving mine as she lets me move her across the room.
“Care to tell me what exactly you have in mind?” she asks, something playful threading through her tone.
“Do you trust me?” I counter as her back meets the edge of the table.
I feel it the exact second it registers. The energy shift. The anticipation. The way her breathing changes.
“Always,” she confirms, her voice becoming more serious.
I turn her waist so she’s facing the table now. Her ass is pressed firmly against my dick, now crying to be released from its prison.
“Palms on the table, baby,” I whisper in her ear.
She does as she’s told and leans over as I push up the material of her skirt all the way up to expose the white lace g-string she’s sporting.
Not wanting to waste any time, I tug it down from the strap on her hip until it falls to the floor around her feet.
I drag a finger across her slit and it’s immediately soaked in her arousal.
“Fuck, Johanna,” I hiss. “Such a good girl, so wet and ready for Daddy’s cock.”
She’s practically purring beneath me as I pleasure her clit with one hand and undo my belt and unzip my jeans with the other. I pull them down forcefully along with my boxers until my dick is finally able to spring free.
“Come on, Daddy,” she begs as I move my hand and give room to line myself up at her entrance. “Give it to me—no holding back.”
My perfect, naughty girl.
Even though she can’t see my face, I smirk—because that’s exactly what I plan to do.
“If this is too much, you tell me to stop—okay?” I tell her.
I watch the back of her head nod.
“Say it, Johanna,” I command with a slap to one of her cheeks. “I need to hear you.”
She cries out at the unexpected contact, but then—
“Yes, sir.”
Unable to wait any longer, I thrust into her with one swift movement as she braces herself on the table.
“How does that feel?” I ask, rocking my hips against her slowly. “How does it feel to have your pussy filled with the only thing that satisfies you, needy girl?”
“More, Brandon,” she moans. “I need more.”
I still for a moment and pull out of her, ready to give her exactly what she’s asking for.
I keep one hand at her waist, steadying her.
I put my other thumb in my mouth, coating it with spit and using it to spread her cheeks apart.
I press it softly against her puckered hole, a place I’ve never touched before, waiting for her to tell me to fuck off.
I want to fill her in every way I can, but only if she’ll let me.
“C’mon, Daddy,” she taunts before I can even ask. “It’s going to feel so fucking good when you fill both my holes. Do it. Fill me up.”
I think I’ve just died and gone straight to heaven. I’ve always loved her ass—worshipped it even—but now I get to finger it while I fuck her straight into oblivion?
Hell. Yes.
Recording studios don’t have lube—fucking unfortunate—so I move my thumb down and plunge it into her pussy, making sure it’s well-coated before I bring it back up to her asshole. I work it in slow circles until she relaxes just enough for me to slide it in.
“Brandon,” she gasps as I massage my thumb inside her, stretching her tight little hole as far as it will let me. “Don’t you dare stop.”
I move my free hand from her waist to reposition myself before I slip back inside her. She contracts around me, and I know each time I drive into her, the feeling of being completely full of me brings her closer to the edge.
“Come for me, Hurricane,” I grit out as my balls tighten and my pulse intensifies, my own release imminent. “Show me how beautiful you are when you come all over my cock with your ass tight around my thumb.”
I slide my hand from her hip down her front, and just like that—with one flick of the metal jewelry on her clit, she does exactly as she’s told, crying out my name like it’s the only word she knows.
Her legs shake beneath her, and I do my best to steady us both as I spill into her.
I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing the way my name sounds coming off her lips, especially after not having heard it for so long.
I’m still trying to catch my breath when I pull out. Suddenly, I’m grateful for the stack of towels Tony left by his drum kit—another thing I’ll be taking for something other than its intended use.
“Was that okay?” I ask softly as I use one of the towels to gently clean her up.
She turns over to face me and immediately presses a kiss to my lips.
“It was more than okay,” she assures me, her breath lingering against my skin. “I like trying new things with you.”
I kiss her again as she exhales into me, the feeling going straight to my head.
“You’re trouble,” I murmur against her skin.
She huffs out a soft laugh. “You love it.”
“Yeah,” I admit under the glow of the multicolored lights shining behind the window separating us from the booth. “I really fucking do.”