nineteen #4
He turned, finally meeting my eyes. And that was all it took.
He crossed the space between us in three strides, his hand sliding to the back of my neck as his mouth found mine—no hesitation, no polite restraint. Just heat.
The kiss knocked the air out of my chest. His tongue swept against mine, deep and certain, until my hands were fisting in the lapels of his jacket. I felt him smile against my mouth, but it wasn't amused. It was something darker.
Without breaking the kiss, he backed me toward the bedroom. We didn't bother with the lights. Just the hush of our breathing, the low drag of fabric as he slipped the jacket off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
I felt the edge of the bed behind my knees. He paused just long enough to look at me, his thumb brushing the damp seam of my lower lip.
Then he sank to his knees.
I sucked in a breath.
He didn't answer. Just slid his hands up the backs of my thighs, gathering the hem of my dress until the cool air hit me.
His mouth found the inside of my knee, warm and unhurried. He kissed higher, slow enough to make my skin prickle, until he reached the place I was already throbbing for him.
He looked up once, pupils dark and wide. And then he buried his mouth against me.
A ragged sound tore out of me. My hands flew to his shoulders, anchoring me as he licked a slow, deliberate stripe up the center of me.
He worked me open with his mouth, patient and greedy at the same time, like he had nowhere else in the world to be. Every flick of his tongue sent a hot pulse straight through my belly.
When he sealed his lips around me and sucked, my knees nearly buckled. He pressed a hand to my hip, steadying me.
I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Just felt.
When it finally crested—sharp and bright—I cried out, clamping around his tongue as the pleasure crashed through me in heavy waves.
He didn't pull back until the last tremor left my body.
When he rose, his mouth was wet, his breathing rough.
I reached for him, catching him by the front of his shirt. He let me shove it off his shoulders, let me drag it down his arms. His tie followed, hitting the floor without ceremony.
I kissed him hard, tasting myself on his mouth. My fingers fumbled with his belt, urgency replacing any last trace of composure. He helped, working the buckle free, then pushing his trousers down until they hit the floor.
He caught my face in both hands, kissing me once more—slower, almost careful. And then he guided me back, easing me down onto the mattress.
He watched me a beat longer, gaze tracing over my bare thighs, the garters hugging my skin. Then he knelt on the bed, bracing his hands on either side of my hips.
My breath caught when he leaned down and kissed the curve of my belly. Lower.
"Your turn," I whispered, voice wrecked.
He pulled back just enough to search my eyes, something questioning there—like he needed to be sure.
I nodded once, slow.
He let me push him gently onto his back.
I straddled his thighs, sliding my palms over the hard plane of his chest. Lower, until my fingers brushed the waistband of his briefs.
His breath went unsteady.
I eased them down, baring all of him, and felt the ache twist low in my belly.
When I lowered my mouth to him, he let out a harsh, unguarded sound. One hand tangled in my hair, not guiding, just holding.
I took my time—slow strokes of my tongue, the steady slide of my lips until his head tipped back against the mattress.
"Fuck," he groaned, voice gone ragged.
I didn't stop. I sucked him deeper, savoring every soft curse that slipped from his mouth, every flex of his hand in my hair.
When I felt him start to tremble, I pulled back, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin just above his hip.
"Come here," he rasped.
I crawled up over him, heart thumping.
He caught my face in his hands and kissed me, deep and filthy, like he didn't care that I could still taste him on my tongue.
His hands slid to my hips. With one slow, sure motion, he guided me down onto him.
We both gasped.
I braced my palms on his chest, rolling my hips in a slow circle until the stretch settled into something that made my vision blur.
He let me set the pace—steady, deliberate. Every thrust made my breath catch.
His eyes were dark, unguarded, nothing held back.
When I started to move faster, his hands clamped harder around my hips, meeting every roll with a deeper thrust.
The pleasure built slow and punishing, coiling tight.
I felt it cresting and tipped my head back, a broken moan escaping my lips.
His hand slid up to the back of my neck, grounding me as he thrust up harder.
I came with a sharp cry, clenching around him so tight I felt him swear against my throat.
He flipped me effortlessly, pinning me beneath him with his body still locked inside mine.
I barely caught my breath before he started moving again—deep, relentless, driving every last thought out of my head.
"Brooks—"
"Yeah," he panted, voice rough. "I know."
The second orgasm came faster, stealing the strength from my limbs.
When he finally followed me over the edge, his groan was low and wrecked, his hips stuttering against mine.
We stayed like that, breathing each other in, the city lights catching the sweat on his shoulders.
When he finally pulled back, he didn't go far. Just pressed his forehead to mine, one hand skimming down to rest over my heart.
Neither of us said a word.
We didn't need to.
Thoughts? LMAO
Any guesses about any Easter eggs planted in this chapter ??????????
Was planning on sitting on the chapters I have already completed and uploading twice a week but then I realized what's the point lmao
See you next update ?