Chapter 32
thirty-two
. . .
Stella
I'm trying to listen to Brandon tell me about his meeting with Helena, I really am, but it's hard to focus when his lips wrap around that fork like I imagine it would look wrapped around my breast and his tongue keeps sweeping out to lick food off said fork just like he might with my nipple.
I don't think I've ever been this horny in my life. We're sitting at his kitchen island with takeout containers between us, attempting to have a normal conversation, but every casual touch makes my skin buzz with awareness.
“She said to keep my schedule open,” he says, his eyes bright with excitement. “Hopefully, I'll hear something by the end of the week.”
“That's incredible,” I manage, though my voice comes out breathier than intended because his free hand just settled on my thigh under the counter. “You deserve this, Brandon. You're going to be amazing.”
“I couldn't have done it without you pushing me to take the leap.” His fingers tighten slightly on my leg. “You're so smart and talented. Blair is lucky she found you. You're going to really change this industry.”
His words make my heart skip. I love what I do, but I love it even more when people can see my value. I should say thank you, or maybe tell him how proud of him I am, but all I can think about is how his hands feel on my body. And how I can't get enough of this gorgeous man in front of me.
“We should celebrate,” I say, then immediately feel my cheeks warm at how that came out.
“What did you have in mind?” He says with a knowing look on his face.
Before I can answer, he's pulling me off my stool and against his chest, and then we're kissing with the desperate hunger of people who've been denied something they didn't know they wanted. The takeout is forgotten as his hands slide down to cup my ass, and he lifts me onto the counter.
“We should probably talk about this,” I murmur against his lips, even as my legs wrap around his waist. “Figure out what we're doing.”
“Mmm,” he agrees as his mouth moves to my neck. “Definitely. Very important conversation.”
“It can probably wait—Oh, God, yes, right there—we'll figure this out tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he says, his teeth grazing my pulse point. “We'll figure it all out tomorrow.”
Tomorrow sounds perfect because, right now, his hands are pushing my dress up my thighs and I can't remember why talking seemed important. I pull his shirt over his head, marveling at how different it feels to touch him when I'm allowed to want him. When he's mine to explore.
He lifts me off the counter, with my legs still wrapped around him, and carries me to the bedroom. The confidence in his movements, the way he handles my weight like I'm nothing, sends sparks up my spine.
“I want to taste you,” he says as he sets me down beside his bed. “I've been thinking about it all day.”
My breath catches. “You have?”
“You taste so fucking delicious.” His hands find the zipper of my dress. “It'll never be enough.”
The dress pools at my feet, leaving me in just my bra and underwear. Brandon's gaze travels over me for a moment before he strips me bare.
“You're so beautiful,” he breathes.
He guides me back onto the bed, following me down with kisses that make my toes curl. When his mouth finds my breast, I arch up into him, begging for more.
His hands and mouth worship me with a patience I've never experienced before.
Every kiss is deliberate, every touch focused on my pleasure rather than rushing toward some goal.
He trails kisses down my stomach. Then he settles between my thighs, and I have to close my eyes at the intensity of his gaze.
“Spread those legs, sunshine,” he says with a gruff determination.
The first touch of his tongue makes me cry out, and my back arches off the bed. He's gentle but thorough, learning what makes me gasp, what makes me grip the sheets. And in no time, between his fingers, lips, and tongue, all fighting for my pleasure, my insides begin to clench.
“I'm close,” I gasp, surprising myself.
“Good. Let go for me.”
When the orgasm hits, it's like nothing I've ever felt. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me, and Brandon works me through all of it, his mouth never stopping until I'm boneless and shaking.
“That was…” I start, but I can't find words.
“I need to be inside you now,” he says with a hint of urgency as he presses a kiss to my inner thigh.
“Wait,” I tell him as he moves up my body, kissing me softly. “I want to do that for you.”
“You don't have to—”
“I want to.” I push against his chest until he's on his back. “But I should probably warn you, I'm not very experienced with that.”
His eyes soften. “We'll go slow.”
I work his pants off with hands that shake slightly from nerves and anticipation.
When he's left in just his boxer briefs, I take a moment to appreciate him.
He's beautiful, all lean muscle and golden skin.
I admire the defined ridges of his abs, the curve of his biceps, and the broad expanse of his chest. His body is a work of art.
My eyes travel lower, and I see how much he wants me, the hard length of him straining against the dark fabric. The sight makes my core ache with renewed need.
“Touch me, Stella,” he says, his voice strained.
I hook my fingers in the waistband of his briefs and pull them down, freeing him completely. He's impressive, and the knowledge that this is mine, that he's this hard for me, makes me feel powerful in a way I've never experienced before.
I wrap my hand around him tentatively, marveling at the contrast of soft skin over steel. He groans, and his head falls back against the pillow.
“Like this?” I ask, stroking him slowly.
“Grip me tighter, like this.” He wraps his hand around mine and guides me up and down his thick shaft. Precum starts to leak out of his tip, and I rub my thumb across it, smearing it as I learn the pressure and pace he likes.
“Lick it,” he tells me. When I lean down to taste him, he makes a sound that goes straight to my core.
“Stella, fuck—”
I pull back. “Good?”
“So good.” He brings his thumb to my mouth and pulls down my bottom lip. “Open for me, Stella.”
My mouth slides over his tip, and he guides his cock into me gently, teaching me what he likes without making me feel foolish. His responses are immediate and honest, and I find myself getting lost in the power of it, in how I can make this strong, confident man fall apart with just my mouth.
“You're incredible at this,” he pants. “So fucking good.”
The praise makes me bold, and I take him deeper, loving how he trembles beneath me.
I'm actually enjoying this, which is a revelation.
One hand grips the base of him, helping me guide him in and out of my mouth, while his other hand is tangled in my hair.
I can feel his arms tense, like he's trying to hold back, trying to be gentle.
“I'm close,” he warns. “Lay on your back.”
I pull back, and he flips me on the bed and finishes over me, across my stomach and chest, his release warm on my skin.
“Oh, fuck, Stella.” He leans down to kiss me, careful not to make more of a mess. “That was fucking incredible. Your mouth is going to be the death of me.”
“Shower?” I suggest against his lips.
“Definitely.”
The hot water feels incredible on my skin, but not as incredible as Brandon's hands roaming all over my body with the slick soap. When he presses me against the tile wall, I'm already ready for him again, and I can feel he's ready for me, too.
“I don't have any protection with me.”
“I have an IUD,” I say softly. “And I haven't been with anyone since my last test. What about you?”
“Clean bill of health, and it's been months for me.” His thumb traces across my wrist.
“I want to feel all of you,” I tell him.
He slides into me with a groan. “Fuck you are so tight, Stella.”
The pleasure is instant. I'm ready to explode. “Don't stop. Keep going.”
The angle is perfect, and he's hitting spots that make me see stars. We move together desperately, all the finesse from earlier replaced by raw need. When I come apart around him, he follows immediately, burying his face in my neck.
We dry each other off slowly, our hands lingering longer than necessary. When Brandon wraps the towel around my shoulders and pulls me against him, I can feel he's already getting hard again.
“Bed?” he murmurs against my ear.
I nod, and he lifts me up. My legs wrap around his waist as he carries me the few steps to his bedroom.
Later, wrapped in his arms with my head on his chest, it's like we've unleashed Pandora's box and I can say with confidence there is no way to put these feelings back into it. I think about how everything has changed. How I can't imagine going back to being just friends after this.
“What are you thinking about?” he murmurs, his fingers tracing patterns on my bare shoulder.
“How we're going to be exhausted tomorrow,” I say instead of the truth.
He laughs, and the sound rumbles through his chest. “Worth it.”
I'm drifting off when I feel him hardening against my hip again.
“Seriously?” I ask, but I'm already reaching for him.
“What can I say? You're addictive.”
Tomorrow, we'll figure out what this means, what we are to each other. Tonight, I just want to get lost in him again and again until the sun comes up.