Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
NAOMI
“ F uck.” Brandon’s fingers twist harder into my hair. “Just like that.”
The pain from his grip shoots straight between my legs as I work my tongue along him, savoring the way his abs ripple.
His voice is strained, thick with heat and impatience. “Look at me.”
My eyes snap to his, the blue nearly devoured by his blown pupils, leaving only a thin ring—sharp, hungry, inescapable.
He’s got me. Fully, completely.
“Good girl.” His thumb traces where my lips stretch around him. “So fucking beautiful like this.”
The praise burns through me, but I hold his stare. I can’t look away, won’t look away, his eyes holding me captive as surely as his hand in my hair.
His palm cups my jaw, thumb pressing into the corner of my mouth. “Relax your throat.”
I surrender to his guidance, letting him push deeper until tears sting my eyes. The stretch burns just right, walking that perfect line between pleasure and pain.
He pulls back. “You know all the colors? Tell me.”
“Green,” I drink in the air, already missing the weight of him on my tongue. “Yellow, red.”
“What are you now?”
“Green.”
That wicked smirk spreads across his face. “That’s my girl.”
My thighs press together at his words, seeking friction. Brandon notices, he always notices, and his grip tightens.
“Did I say you could do that?”
I stop moving.
“Words.”
“No, Sir.”
His eyes flash. “Bend over.”
I freeze for half a second, heat rushing through me, and then, slowly, I do as I’m told. The silk sheets whisper against my skin as I drape myself over the bed’s edge, listening with anticipation to his footsteps closing in.
“Wider.” His fingers skim up my spine.
I spread my legs, exposed and aching, the cool air hitting where I’m slick with want.
“Already dripping for me.” His fingers ghost along my inner thigh. “All from sucking my cock.”
Heat floods my face, but I don’t deny it, not when the evidence is so obvious.
“Count.” His hand cracks against my ass. No warning, just heat and sting.
I jolt forward, a whimper tearing from my throat. “One.”
Another sharp slap. “Two.”
His other hand grips my hip, holding me steady as he continues. Each strike sends shockwaves of pleasure-pain through my body until I’m a shaking mess.
“Ten,” I choke out.
“Such a good girl.” His palm soothes my heated skin, mixing pain with comfort and pleasure. “You take everything I give you, don’t you? So fucking perfect.”
My body moves on his own, pressing back into his touch, silently begging for more. He laughs, wicked and dark.
“Eager little thing.” His fingers dip lower, circling my entrance. “Is this what you want?”
“Please.”
He slides two fingers inside me, curling them, and my legs quiver as he sets a merciless pace.
“Look at you.” His voice turns to a growl, a vibration I feel everywhere. “Begging for it. Do you want more?”
“Just—” I pant. “Stop teasing.”
“Teasing?” His hand wraps around my neck, not squeezing, just holding. “I haven’t even started.”
The blunt head of him presses against me, and I grip the sheets as he pushes in, filling me inch by torturous inch.
“Fuck.” I press my stomach into the bed.
He starts moving, each thrust going deeper. “Take it all.”
I rock back, chasing more.
His fist tangles in my hair, yanking my head up. “Greedy girl.”
“Please.”
He snaps his hips harder. “Tell me what you need.”
“Harder—fuck—deeper.”
“Since you asked so nicely.”
The pace turns brutal. Skin slaps against skin as he pounds into me, claiming every inch.
“You’re made for this, aren’t you? Made for me.” He slaps my ass, keeping up the rhythm. “Taking my cock so perfectly.”
“Brandon. I’m?—”
“Not yet.” His palm presses against my stomach, holding me still. “You come when I say.”
I whimper, hovering right on the edge as he maintains a slower but no less maddening rhythm. My thighs shake with the effort of holding back.
“You like that?” His hips snap deep. “Like being my good little slut?”
“Yes.” My voice splinters as his thumb finds my clit, drawing circles with devastating precision. “Want to be yours.”
He falters for a second. “Mine?”
“Only yours,” I gasp. “Always your cupcake.”
The brutal pace returns, claiming, marking me, hitting spots that make me see stars.
Just when I think I’ll shatter, he changes the angle, keeping me desperate.
I’m beyond words, reduced to desperate whimpers with every nerve ending on fire, and pleasure coiling tighter.
His teeth graze the skin on my shoulder. “Where do you want it?”
“Inside.” I clench around him. “Fill me up.”
“Then come for me.” His fingers circle my clit with devastating precision.
The orgasm tears through me like lightning, every nerve ending singing his name as he follows with a guttural groan, spilling deep inside while my body greedily takes everything he has to give.
A warmth spreads from my center, and my insides squeeze on instinct, not wanting to let him go until I collapse onto the bed.
He rests his forehead against my shoulder, pressing his chest to my back, and the quiet settles around us like a warm blanket, my mind blessedly silent.
No guilt. No shame. Just this. Just us.
His hands stroke my sides, gentle now where they were demanding before.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“For making me feel safe.”
Giving me the freedom to finally let go.