Chapter 18 #3
My fingers drift to his belt buckle, and when I pull back to see what I’m doing, his gaze lingers on my face.
There’s a stillness in him that feels different than anything I’ve ever seen before.
He’s always been restrained, but watching me go feral for him has fractured some of his control.
His body is rigid with tension, knuckles white as his hands grip the arms of the chair.
He’s giving me all the power, and I can’t help thinking it’s because he’s certain one wrong move might send me running, just like last time.
That realization settles deep inside my chest and splinters between my ribs.
He didn’t want it to end. He didn’t want to lose this.
For a moment, I wrestle the familiar urge to reason it all away. But refusing to acknowledge what happened feels like the cowardly thing to do.
Closing my eyes, I force my throat to work and let the truth spill free.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, no matter how much I tried.”
That confession echoes in the heavy silence that follows, and I understand it doesn’t change anything. It won’t alter the trajectory of our lives, or the fact that we can only have this one night. But I want him to hear it, even if it costs me a piece of the armor I’ve spent so long constructing.
“I know.”
His quiet certainty feels weighted with a significance I can’t begin to unravel.
We leave the rest unsaid as I slow things down, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers.
His gaze warms my face as I peel apart the fabric, revealing the pronounced swell beneath his briefs. I swallow audibly as I stare at it.
I knew he would be big. But I wasn’t anticipating…this.
Of course he’s an overachiever at literally everything.
In its infinite wisdom, my lust-drunk brain supplies a singular thought.
Challenge accepted.
Harnessing the temptation to unwrap this overdue package immediately, I slide off his lap and sink to my knees before him.
“I want to please you,” I whisper.
A beat passes as his thumb traces the line of my jaw, then he wrecks me with five simple words.
“Your very existence pleases me.”
I bathe in the warmth of his praise, soaking up his attention while the rest of the world falls away.
This man is a hell of a drug, and right now, all I want to do is worship him.
Trailing my fingers over his muscular thighs, I begin my exploration as he observes me in silence.
Leaning into him, I kiss my way down the dark dusting of hair that disappears beneath his briefs.
When I lightly scrape my nails over the ridges of his abs, they contract, and it sends a shiver of pleasure through me too.
My thighs clench together when I reach his briefs, skimming a finger along the inside of the band. Tugging it down a fraction, my lips graze his skin, tracing a slow path all the way across to his pelvic bone.
There’s something so addictive about seeing that deeply masculine area exposed on a body sculpted to perfection. I want to map every inch of it.
Unleashing my inhibitions, I drag a long, slow lick along that carved ridge, teeth scraping over the highest peak. That earns me a low, primal growl that sends another rush of heat straight between my legs.
A primitive need flares inside me as I stroke the rigid length of his cock through his briefs, marveling at the brutal hardness. I want so badly to relieve him of that ache.
Tension radiates through him as I trail kisses from the base, all the way up to the damp patch at the tip. When I lap the head of his cock through the fabric and suck him into my mouth, he lets out a rough breath.
His fingers thread through my hair, hand tightening reflexively as I worship him through the barrier of his briefs.
It’s intoxicating watching his restraint slowly unravel. He doesn’t just want this. He’s consumed by it.
As I pause to meet his gaze, that recognition arcs between us.
“I want to see all of you,” I breathe.
Slowly, he untangles his hand from my hair, a faint tremor pulsing through him as I begin to unwrap him.
Loosening the laces on his oxfords, I slip them off and set them aside.
Skimming my fingers down his calves, I peel his socks away. And when I reach for the band of his briefs and trousers, he lifts his hips to help me.
Once I’ve folded his clothes into a neat pile, I take a second to gather myself.
When I finally sneak a glance at him, my lips part.
God, this man really is a sight to behold.
I drink in the length of his thick, heavy cock, concluding he’ll absolutely destroy me. But I don’t have an ounce of self-preservation left, so…if I die, I die.
A current of restless energy runs through me as I edge closer, palms gliding over his solid thighs as I settle between them.
I’ve never handled a man this size, and I’m not even sure where I want to begin. I have an endless list of ideas from years of fantasizing about him, but it’s too hard to choose. So, I follow my instincts.
Taking him into my hand, I stroke his shaft and milk the precum from the head. When I lap it up with a small, kittenish lick, his cock pulses in my grip.
“Eyes on me, dea.” Heat saturates his command.
I lift my gaze to his as I draw him into my mouth with a slow, lazy pull, and he rewards me with a guttural groan of approval.
It gives me all the encouragement I need to keep going, sinking him further into the back of my throat.
I don’t have much of a gag reflex, but my jaw is stretched to capacity.
It was over-ambitious to try taking the whole of him.
So I wrap my fingers around the base and stroke him as I hollow out my cheeks.
His palm settles on my head, fingers pressing into my skull as I start to guide him in and out of my mouth. The intensity of his gaze consumes me, suspending us in that moment as I focus solely on serving him.
Masculine sounds of pleasure bleed up his throat as he praises me with roughly spoken words.
“Look at you swallowing my cock like such a good fucking girl.”
Warmth unfurls in my chest, nourishing the most neglected part of me. It fans the flames of my desire and untethers my control. I take him deeper, stroking and sucking him with a need that possesses me.
There’s something almost intoxicated in his expression as he watches me with parted lips, and it makes me feel like I’ve done something good.
Something really, really good.
Tension draws his muscles tight, and his breathing shallows as I edge him closer to release.
“Dea.” His grip on my hair tightens, an undercurrent of darkness threading through his voice. “Do you want my cum in your throat?”
I continue stroking him as I pull my mouth free to answer him. This isn’t a question for clarification about what was on my consent form. He knows exactly what I want—and I know that he wants me to ask him nicely.
“Yes, please.” I hum my approval as I kiss the head of his cock.
He reaches down, fingers feathering over my jaw, offering me a moment of softness before his dominance comes out to play.
“Then you’ll need to open wider, baby.”
His order is a match strike in the dark, and it burns me to ash.
Anticipation thrums beneath my skin as his attention drifts to the bracelets on my arm, and I know he’s about to make good use of them.
I wait patiently as he traces a path down to my wrist, methodically unbuckling one of the bands. Leaning over me, he links both wrists behind my back, giving the chain a slight tug to test them out.
Once he’s satisfied that I’m secure, he removes something else from his pocket. My eyes drift over the silver necklace that, at first glance, looks like everyday jewelry. But as he unlocks the padlock pendant with a small set of keys and drapes it around my neck, it feels more like a collar.
That thought catches fire as the lock clicks into place, and he attaches it to a stainless steel chain. Winding the chain around his fist, he rises to his feet and uses it to drag me closer.
The links bite into the tender flesh of my throat, angling my head back as he leans down to meet me. Our mouths are a breath apart when he drags his thumb across my lips, softly plying them open.
“Mea sola,” he murmurs.
I don’t recognize the Latin. I just know the reverence with which he says it lights up every nerve in my body.
For a heartbeat, I find myself wishing he would possess my mouth the way I know he wants to. But he won’t, because I took it off the table.
“Bran.” His name spills out on a whisper.
“Yes?”
The proximity of his voice sends a shiver through me, and before I even realize I’m closing the distance, my lips brush against his.
He stills, and I plead for what will surely be my own demise.
“Kiss me.”
His answering growl rumbles through me as he buries his fingers in my hair and captures my mouth with his.
It’s a slow, drugging kiss that seeps into the marrow of my bones, imprinting his claim into the very fabric of me.
That flood of heat soon ignites us both.
His tongue sweeps inside my mouth, and the kiss grows rougher. Teeth scraping. Breaths colliding. Fingers branding.
He takes, and I give him everything.
When he finally lets me come up for air, my lips are swollen, and I’m floating in a haze.
He just wrecked me with a kiss.
My very first.
Softening my jaw, I gaze up at him, and he pets my face with so much tenderness, it draws a shudder from me. That silent acknowledgment means more than words ever could. He knows what I just gave him.
He knows I’ve never given it to anyone else.
It needs its own moment to breathe.
His thumb traces my bottom lip, then dips inside my mouth, and I close my eyes and pull him deeper.
If ever there was a sign that I’m ready for him to lay claim to me, this is it.
He releases a measured breath, thumb scraping over the pad of my tongue before he withdraws it. Then he palms the back of my head and feeds his cock into my mouth.
I relax around him as he pushes into my throat, stretching my jaw to the limit. The masculine sound he makes rolls down my spine and bathes me in pleasure.
“Is this what you wanted?” He eases out and buries himself with a broken exhalation.