Chapter 15 #2
"Kiss me," he commanded as he stood. She eagerly obeyed, reaching out for him.
He pulled her towards him, and their mouths clashed.
The taste of him was sweet and tangy on her lips, a touch of her own medicine.
She felt dizzy and lightheaded in the wake of her orgasm.
He caught her as she wobbled and lay her down on the soft bed once again.
Her hand graced the drooling head of his arousal, and he shuddered at the intimacy of her touch. As he loomed over her, she put her hand on his well-muscled shoulder. "Can I return the favour?"
Tori had warned him about this, and he couldn't help but smirk. What was it Brierley had wanted to do? He rested his forehead against hers and said, "You don't have to," making her beg to get what she wanted.
Brierley wrapped her hands around his waist and returned, "I'd really like to," she pleaded.
She tugged on his jeans, pulling them down his thick thighs, and he shuffled them over his ankles. She couldn't keep her eyes off him, staring hungrily. The heavy weight below was tightly drawn toward the base of his length; they looked good, too.
Soft cushions embraced him as he reclined into them, making himself comfortable. Demurely, she crawled over to him, reclined over his legs and gently kissed the rose-tinted tip.
He tensed when her tongue swirled over his head, sweeping away the rich-tasting evidence of his desire. Her eyes widened at the taste, and she parted her lips to wrap around him. His legs tensed further, and his groan came from deep within his chest.
"Relax," she soothed, stroking his inner thigh.
He wanted to, he wanted to bask in her attention for eternity.
Rosani had only ever gone down on him once; he'd revelled in her attentions too much, and she'd screamed at him for finishing in her mouth.
He dreaded the same happening with Brierley, but she was so damned good at it.
Her tongue applied the perfect pressure against him as her head bobbed in flawless rhythm, taking in as much of his impressive length as she could.
Her hand gripped the base of his hardness, and his anticipation mingled with her saliva, keeping him damp and slippery.
His leg rocked with tension, stifling his groans from getting too loud.
He was going to lose control. Oh, God, he was definitely going to lose control if she didn't stop.
She didn't stop. His thick brow twitched, his core tightened, and he just about managed to eke out, "Brierley," her name sounding as a tense warning.
"Don't finish yet," she cooed up at him. "I want to keep tasting you longer."
After that confession, how could he not? When she pulled her head up, his hips rose in response.
"Oh, God," he purred, his eyes rolling with deep satisfaction.
She hummed to indicate she was listening, and the vibrations from her throat were the end of him.
Jolting forward, he gripped her shoulders tightly, and in reaction, she removed her hand from its vice-like grip.
Sitting back, but it was too late. She caught the full force of his release on her chest. His passion erupted from him in a volcanic explosion, coating her in his warmth.
Brierley squealed in surprise at the sheer amount he produced.
His breath heaved as the waves of his climax washed over him.
Pleasure-filled, ragged panting growled from his throat, accompanying the ripples of his throbbing release.
“God, you’re incredible,” he muttered, his mind as well and truly blown as his cock.
He peeled his eyes open. When he looked at her, he grimaced, seeing his seed dribbling down her bare chest. He leaned forward to kiss her, and she met his mouth with a brief touch.
Brierley looked stunned at the reaction to her blow job, and he grinned, “Let me run us a shower.” He asked, ready to take care of her in a heartbeat.
“Okay,” Brierley answered, dumbfounded.
Breht hurried to his feet, dipping into the bathroom and setting the shower to warm up. He peered behind the door and watched Brierley get to her feet and cross over to the bathroom, trying her very best not to cringe as the heavy load of his seed slipped between her breasts.
He pulled the curtain back and tested the warmth of the water with an outstretched palm. With a nod, she climbed into the shower, washing off the juices of their lovemaking. He slipped in behind her and took the soap from the holder, lathering it up in his large hands.
“Is…?” Brierley started to ask as he rubbed bubbles and soap into her shoulders. She momentarily lost herself in the soothing motion of his hands massaging her neck, melting into his surprisingly gentle touch.
“Hmmm?” Breht inquired, encouraging her to speak her mind.
“I’m sorry,” she asked, turning to face him and looking him deadpan seriously. “Was that normal?”
He grinned, beaming behind his tusks. “It’s an orc thing. I should have warned you.”
Bemused, she took the soap out of his hand, using it to wash off the cum he’d managed to get in his own chest hair.
Now that she was armed with knowledge of his orgasm, she wanted to do it again.
She subconsciously licked at her bottom lip at the thought of his large cock being teased into climax by her mouth again.
His twitching and moaning had her all worked up again, and his gentle touches were doing nothing to abate her desires.
Breht turned her around once again and pulled at the dangling tresses of her barely contained hair.
He pulled the shower head off the hook and used it to dampen her hair before rubbing shampoo through it.
The bubbles whipped up his favourite scent: vanilla and honey, and he basked in the simple peace of the moment.
Putting the shower head between his legs to hold it, he rubbed the longer strands of her hair through his fingers.
Although he didn’t think he’d managed to get any of his spunk in her hair, he used it as a good excuse to toy with her tresses.
Her long hair was one of the many things he adored about her.
His cock twitched at the thought of wrapping her hair around his fist while he took her from behind.
Instead, he planted a kiss on her bare neck and rinsed the bubbles from her hair.
Under the spray of water, he held her close to him.
There was only so much pushing he dared.
Brierley slipped past him and pulled a towel from the rack, covering herself from head to shoulder in the comfort of the soft material.
She could hear Breht in the shower, cleaning himself off.
He soon joined her, the only remaining towel a sliver of a hand towel; nowhere big enough for his large frame.
He didn’t even complain, just used it to dry himself.
Then he went foraging for some clothing to wear, pulling his suitcase out from the bottom of the bed.
Brierley emerged from the bathroom a moment later, wearing the room's overly large robe. She slumped down on the edge of the bed.
“What would you like for breakfast, Princess?” Breht asked, wearing one of his long-sleeved white shirts and nothing else. He hadn’t even buttoned it, leaving little to the imagination as to what he left on display.
“Sausages?” Brierley answered, unable to contain a laugh at her own sense of humour.
“Let’s get something to eat. Then you can have all the sausage you want,” he promised.