18. Brady #2
I fuck her hard. I fuck her like I have been thinking about doing since she ground herself on me Monday morning.
My hand comes up under her jaw, thumb against the side of her throat, and I look at her, offering her the same out that she offered me.
She nods, eyes wet, mouth open, and I wrap my fingers firmly around her throat.
Not tight. Just enough. Just enough that she feels it, that her breath catches, that her pupils grow wider.
“Good girl.”
The sound she makes at such simple praise is intoxicating.
I drive into her, the couch rocking under us, and I let go of her throat long enough to flip her.
“Up. Hands and knees. On the couch.”
She scrambles to obey. Her hair cascades over her shoulders, ass up. Then she looks over her shoulder at me like she has never seen me before. Maybe she hasn’t. Maybe nobody has.
I get behind her, line up again, push back in. My hand comes down on her ass before I’ve made the decision to do it. The slap seems to echo in the small room.
“You like that?” I rasp.
“Yes, yes! again!”
I do it again. Other cheek. Pink blooming under my palm. She drops to her elbows and arches her back deeper and I fist her hair and pull her head up by it and start to fuck her in earnest.
“This what you wanted? Hmm? All week, grinding on me, letting me feel how wet you were. This what you were after?”
“Yes, it’s so good.”
“Could’ve just asked, angel.”
“Fuck, Brady!”
“Knew you’d be like this, desperate and slutty for me.” I don’t recognize my own voice. It’s aggressive, cruel almost. “I knew if I touched you once I wasn’t going to be able to stop.”
I let go of her hair, get my hand around her throat from behind, and squeeze just enough as I pull her upright onto my cock, her back to my chest, both of us on our knees on the couch.
My other hand splays low on her belly applying pressure, holding her down on me as I grind up into her slow and deep and she shudders against me. Her head falls back on my shoulder.
“Look at you.” My mouth at her ear. “Taking my dick like you’re starving for it.”
“Please.”
“Please what?” I ask.
“Please don’t stop. Never stop,” she murmurs.
I bite the side of her neck and tighten my hand on her throat, controlling her ability to breathe. My other hand comes down between her legs with a slap to her clit and she comes apart on me with a broken cry, every muscle in her body wrenching tight, pulsing around me so hard I see white.
I fuck her through it, wringing every last spasm from her pussy. When she sags forward I follow her down, palm her hip, drive into her three more times and let go with a sound stifled by her hair.
For a moment, the only sound in the room is the two of us breathing.
My hand is still loose around the front of her throat. I make myself move it gliding it down, between her breasts until I flatten it to her sternum, feeling her heart hammer against my palm.
She turns her head against my jaw. Laughs once, dazed, wrecked.
“Brady. Jesus.”
I ease back onto my heels, still inside her, and she’s a mess. Hair stuck to her shoulder, neck pink from my mouth, knees shaking under her.
“That wasn’t what I expected,” she breathes.
I freeze. “In a good way?”
She laughs, low, tilts her head to look at me over her shoulder. “In a very good way.”
“Don’t move,” I say.
Her brow furrows. “What?”
I slide out of her slowly, watching, and the sound she makes when I’m gone is half complaint, half ruin.
“Stay like that for me. Just a second.” My hand smooths down her spine, over the curve of her ass, and I push her shoulders down gently until her chest meets the cushion and her ass stays up. “Let me see what I did to you, angel.”
She turns her face into the couch and I see the color climb up the back of her neck. Embarrassed, maybe, but into it all the same.
I get my thumb against her and spread her open and there I am, my cum pooled where I bred her, sliding down the inside of her thigh.
“Christ, you look so pretty full of my cum.”
“Brady!” Her face is a pretty shade of pink.
“Look at what you let me do to you.” I pick up my phone and snap a pic for myself later then drag my thumb up, push it back into her, slowly making her gasp and push back against my hand.
“So good for me.” I keep my voice low. “So fucking beautiful, angel.”
I let her go and lean down and kiss the small of her back, then her shoulder blade, then I turn her over so I can get to her mouth. She comes willingly, boneless, looping her arms around my neck. The kiss is softer this time. Slower.
Her fingers trail through my hair. She breaks the kiss just enough to look at me. “Brady.”
“Mm.”
“I need to tell you something.”
The way she says it makes my stomach nearly flip. “Okay.”
She holds my face between her palms. Steady. Not letting me look away. “What if this wasn’t just you and me?”
I blink at her. “What?”
“What if it was the five of us? Together.”
My heart is pounding so hard it sounds like a war drum in my head.
“I’m with Cruz,” she says. “And Dante. And Eli.”
I don’t move.
“All of them?” I ask.
“All of them.” Her thumb strokes my cheekbone. “And Cruz and Dante—they’re together too. Eli’s getting there. Slow, but it’s something he wants and he’s getting there.”
I should be angry. I should be something. Hurt. Jealous. Anything other than what’s actually happening to my body right now, which is my cock twitching against her thigh and my breath coming faster and my mouth going dry.
She feels it. Her eyes drop, then lift, slow. “Brady.”
“Don’t.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I shouldn’t…”
“It’s okay.” She kisses the corner of my mouth. “Tell me, there’s no one who can hear you but me.”
I close my eyes. “I’ve thought about it.
All of you. Together. With me.” I open my eyes and look at her, and there’s no judgment in those pretty hazel eyes, just patience.
“I didn’t even know I wanted that until I started watching you all interact at the gym.
Cruz with Eli. The way Dante touches Cruz when he thinks nobody’s looking.
You in the middle of all of it. I’m not—”
“You don’t have to put a label on it.”
“I don’t know what I am.”
“You don’t have to know,” she insists.
I drop my forehead against hers and breathe. “I can’t,” I say.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not.” I pull back enough to look at her. “Dakota. You don’t know me. Not like this. What you just got? That’s nothing.”
Her eyebrow raises. “That didn’t feel like nothing.”
“That was me holding back.”
Her expression shifts to curious, hungry almost.
“That,” I say, “was the tamest version of my impulses. When I let go, I get mean. Rough. I want to own whoever I’m with.
I want to wreck them, put them back together, only to do it all again.
I don’t trust myself with that. I never have.
That’s why I… ” My throat closes. I swallow it down. “That’s why I keep my hands to myself.”
She doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then she sits up. Pushes me onto my back on the couch and swings one leg over me until she’s straddling me again, naked, hair a mess, my mess still on her thighs.
She reaches between us and wraps her hand around my cock, which is already hard again, traitor that it is. Dakota moans as she sinks down onto me with a slow, deliberate roll of her hips that makes my eyes roll back.
“Dakota!”
“You haven’t seen me yet either, Brady.” She braces her hands flat on my chest, looking down at me. “I think you’re going to fit in just right.”
“But you don’t know what I get like,” I protest.
“I love it.” She rolls her hips again, taking me deeper. “How dominant you are. The hand. The hair. The voice.” She leans down, mouth at mine. “It’s so fucking sexy.”
I groan into her mouth, hands coming up to her hips on reflex.
“Let me in,” she whispers against my lips. “Let all of us in.”
I kiss her, knowing that there’s no going back now. Screw the consequences; I want to own them. All of them.