Chapter 18 #5
A hint of dark amusement teases his lips as he strokes my clit, distracting me from the thought entirely.
The obscenely wet sound of him fucking me while he increases the friction of his fingers tips me over the edge embarrassingly fast.
The orgasm explodes through me in rolling waves, stealing my senses and leaving me weightless beneath him.
It feels like it goes on forever, and when I finally manage to open my eyes, Bran is staring down at me like he’s in agony. It’s only then I realize how hard I was clenching around him.
My gaze drifts downward, lust sparking in my veins as I drink in the sight of his massive cock lodged inside me. There’s something so feral about it. He’s the strongest man I’ve ever been with, and it feels like I’m being fucked by a warlord returning from conquest.
Seeing him on the edge of oblivion has me desperate to push him over.
I roll my hips against him, and he takes control. Dragging his cock through my arousal, he thrusts into me with a growl.
I trail my fingers down his back, gripping the muscular globes of his ass as he fucks me into the bed.
The shock of sensation overwhelms me as he drives deeper and harder, straining every muscle in his body. He lays claim to me like I’m the only one who can satisfy this hunger, and all that exists is this moment.
I bury my face against his throat, something heavy pressing between my ribs as I breathe him in.
There’s an awareness just beyond my thoughts, but it drifts away as I satiate a craving of my own.
Grazing his skin with my lips, I bite and suck my way down to the hollow between his neck and shoulder. It gets me high on the taste of him and sends a surge of heat through his body as his tension climbs.
He thrusts into me until he reaches the point of pure agony, releasing a guttural sound when he withdraws at the last second. Fisting his wet cock, his abs contract and his head tips back as hot cum spurts across my belly.
I watch, enrapt, as he continues to stroke himself, drawing out his pleasure. His throat works and his heart pounds as aftershocks ravage his body, a current still coursing through him.
I thought I’d had sex before, but I was wrong. Whatever that was, it can’t compare to this.
When his drunken gaze falls over me, I know he feels it too.
Threading his fingers through my hair, his body presses against mine.
“Three years of sobriety, and you still fucking ruin me.”
That roughly spoken confession settles beneath my skin, pulsing through my blood.
“You can’t say things like that to me,” I whisper.
“Why?” His thumb drifts over my cheek as he appraises me.
I can’t bring myself to admit that I like it too much, so I rake my gaze down the length of his body.
“Can we get back to the sex part?”
I’m worried he’s going to make me talk about my feelings because he can be very persuasive when he wants to be. But instead, he offers me a choice.
“Which version of me do you want?”
A thrill of anticipation shoots through me when I realize what he’s asking.
Do I prefer the gentleman…or the dominant?
Right now, I want nothing more than to see his darkness unleashed.
“The gentleman can take the rest of the night off,” I say softly.
He leans back, gaze sliding over me as he pushes his fingers through the cum he marked me with. When he brings them to my mouth, my lips part, and his restraint gives way to something more primitive.
He sinks his fingers inside, and I suck, long past the point of them being clean. There’s something so filthy about it, and I’ve thought about this version of Bran for so long, I don’t want to stop.
He pulls his wet fingers from my mouth and drags his thumb across my lower lip. “You want more, gattina?”
I nod, desire thrumming through my veins as I think about watching him come again.
“What will you do for it?”
He pets my face, and I close my eyes, soaking up his affection.
“If you call me your good girl—anything.”
His dark laughter melts over me like honey, and my lips tilt into a half-smile, gratified that my humor amuses him. But before I can be too pleased with myself, I feel the bed shift as he moves, and a moment later, he lifts me into his arms.
Carrying me to the edge of the bed, he sets me onto my knees so I’m facing the mirror.
Standing behind me, he presses a palm between my shoulder blades and guides my upper body down to rest on my forearms.
“Are you a good girl, dea?” He trails his fingers down my spine, his touch far too gentle for the dark promise in his voice.
I already know where this is going. We’ve reached the punishment part of the program.
A shiver moves through me as he strokes the curves of my bare ass, gripping both cheeks and spreading me apart.
“Did you like making me watch you with him?”
The question hangs in the air, a single word reverberating through my mind.
“You were watching—”
The sharp, hot crack of his palm collides with my ass, cutting off whatever I was trying to say. Before I can circle back to that thought or even string together a sentence, he delivers another blow.
My throat ejects a broken sound, and he responds by smacking me harder.
“Three years, Chantel.”
Hearing my name on his lips splinters something inside me. It’s a reminder that this is so much more personal than it was ever meant to be.
“I know,” I force out.
He slaps me right between the thighs, and I jolt, squirming as he soothes the sting with his fingers.
A soft whimper pulls from my chest, and he grabs my jaw, tilting my head back until our gazes meet. It’s an intense amount of eye contact, and we maintain it as he rains down hell on my ass.
He doesn’t hold back, and it’s making me wetter than anything else we’ve ever done. When he stops to sink his fingers inside me, there’s no denying it.
“You love it when it’s like this.” He leans into me, teeth scraping against my ear. “Don’t you, baby?”
Something inside me melts when he calls me that, and I nod along, letting out a shallow breath.
Slowly, he pushes his fingers in and out of me as he bites his way down my back. The combination of rough and gentle overwhelms my senses, and I don’t know what to expect next.
I know better than to believe he’ll let me come so easily, but I chase after it anyway as pressure builds. Right before I get there, he stops.
When I whine about it, he withdraws his fingers and slaps my pussy.
“Oh God—”
I choke on the words as he does it four more times, leaving me tender and overstimulated.
I’m so distracted by my own woes, I’m not expecting it when he grabs me by the hips and thrusts into me.
A strangled cry wrenches from my lungs as he goes straight to fucking me rough and deep.
Fisting a handful of my hair, he pulls my head back until I’m staring at our reflections in the mirror.
“Watch me fuck you,” he commands.
It would be impossible not to. Once my gaze fixates on us, it won’t let go.
There’s something so hot about watching this beast of a man absolutely destroy me. He was built to claim, and I already know I’m going to feel him for days.
His fingers bite into my hip as he punctuates his words with more punishing thrusts.
“Three. Fucking. Years. Chantel.”
“I know,” I say again, the words nearly getting caught in my throat.
“Who does this belong to?” He drives into me.
“You,” I whisper.
“So why the fuck did you take it away?”
“Because you made me want things I can’t have,” I cry out.
I regret it the moment I say it. It’s too honest. But this is what he does to me, and part of me resents him for that.
He shouldn’t be able to get through my defenses.
He’s not supposed to matter.
But the emotion in my voice proves otherwise, and I know he heard it.
He slows things down, flipping me onto my back and settling his weight between my thighs.
Dragging his fingers through my hair, he takes my mouth in a languid kiss that dissolves the tension between us.