Chapter 25 - Brianna #2
I don’t. I can’t. Because in the next moment he drops his head and drags one long, filthy lick from my opening to my clit, and my knees nearly give out.
“Seth,” I gasp, grabbing for his hair, tangling my fingers in the soft strands like an anchor.
He flicks his eyes up, checking in with me. I manage a nod and to take in some air before saying, “Again.”
He does. One slow lick. One teasing flick of my clit.
Another look, another check-in.
“Again,” I whisper, desperate now. I’m on my toes, every muscle on alert, my clit throbbing.
He obeys. Over and over until I’m soaked and throbbing, until his low growls vibrate against me and he’s humming like this gets him off more than anything else.
His grip tightens on my thighs, hauling me higher in the air until I’m settled on the edge of a shelf in the closet with my heels planted and knees butterflied open.
Then his mouth is back on me, sloppier this time.
“Seth,” I choke out, tugging hard on his hair, holding him to me even though it’s too much—too intense, too good, too everything.
It’s loud.
It’s messy.
It’s us.
And when he slides two thick fingers deep inside, curling just right while his mouth latches onto my clit, I shatter. My body clamps down, my vision blanks and I come hard, moaning his name loudly before I can stop myself.
I tremble through the aftershocks, and he doesn’t let me go—doesn’t stop to give my body a rest. He kisses me everywhere. Across my thighs with soft bites and licks, scattering heat across my raw, sensitive skin as if he has no intention of giving me back.
“You’re sweet,” he murmurs, pressing one last kiss atop my sensitive clit before helping me down from the ledge. “We’re not finished,” he says right before he grips the back of my neck and kisses me again.
When we pull away, Seth spins me around, his hands guiding me into position.
“Gonna fuck you in my closet like Mr. Wellington now,” he growls against my ear, his teeth grazing the delicate skin there. “Then maybe we can end the night with some vanilla sex in my bed.”
His voice is playful, teasing, but I love that he's referencing something that belongs only to us.
Our thing. Something no one else would understand.
And that's when it hits me—we've started building a life together.
One with inside jokes and easy teasing, one where he takes genuine interest in the things I love without a trace of making me feel ashamed for it.
“Yes, please,” I whimper, bracing my forearms on the closet ledge, my body arching instinctively as his hands find my hips, grounding me.
I hear the tear of the condom behind me, and then I feel the warm tip of him at my opening.
“Hold on.” He pushes inside me, stretching me inch by inch. Feeding me slowly so that I can adjust.
The burn is so good. He’s so thick, so wide, and when he lifts my hips just a little, adjusting the angle, I swear I see stars. He rocks his hips back slightly, then pushes forward again, deeper this time, hitting a spot that has me whimpering.
“Can you take anymore?” he asks, his voice strained, barely holding on.
“Give it to me,” I breathe, my fingers gripping the ledge tighter as I adjust to his size.
He presses forward and lets out a groan that tells me he’s all the way in.
“You take me so well,” he groans, his fingers tangling in my hair, giving him a little more leverage as he tugs gently.
“Faster,” I beg him.
Seth picks up the pace, sliding in and out of me, fucking me deeply. His movements are erratic, desperate, and it’s everything we both needed tonight. We’re chasing our highs, lost in the intensity of it, and when his fingers find my clit, rubbing roughly, I come again this time without warning.
My pussy clenches around him, squeezing his cock so tightly I hear him grunt behind me, his rhythm stuttering.
“Fuck,” he growls, his grip on my hair tightening as he thrusts one final time, planting himself deep inside me as he stills. His cock stiffens, his release spilling into the condom as he groans my name.
“Bri… fuck… you’re going to ruin me.”
I collapse forward onto the ledge, my body spent, my breathing ragged.
It feels like minutes pass as we both come down, struggling to catch our breath with him still inside me. When he finally pulls out, his hands are gentle as he helps me stand.
“You’re tired. Come here.”
His strong arms lift me, cradling me against his chest as he carries me naked to his bed. He doesn’t care that I’m sweaty, that he just ate me out like a man possessed, he just tucks me in and makes sure I’m comfortable.
“I’ll be right back.” He drops a kiss to my lips before slipping down the hallway. When he returns the condom’s gone and he has two fresh slices of angel food cake in his hands.
“You didn’t.”
He wiggles his brows and grins. It’s that same playful side of him I caught the first night we met, the one that started all of this and made me fall for him. He climbs into bed beside me, spooning me, and rests his plate on my hip.
“Perfect timing,” I whisper as we turn our attention to the TV.
The Wellingtons are still on. And of course, we tune in right when they’re ending their intense episode full of dust broom fucking and a questionable incident with a cigar and the Mr. Wellingtons ass. And what they’re having now is plain, old, missionary sex.
It’s always been my favorite part of the episode, but sitting here now, cuddled against Seth’s chest, eating angel food cake and listening to them take things slower and gentler while he talks her through it.
I can see this is not a performance for them.
And there’s no performing when I’m with Seth.
Whether it’s spending time with Sawyer, or getting fucked in a closet, everything that I’m feeling is real and something is shifting deep inside me the more time that I spend with him.
This feels a lot like the kind of love I’ve always dreamed of.
The kind where a man takes care of you—not just in the bedroom, but out of it too.
Where he pays attention to what you need and enjoy and gives it to you without question.
Not just gives it to me but takes enjoyment in it too.
It’s something that I’ve never had before. Something that I’ve always known was possible but wasn’t sure I’d be lucky enough to have.
Seth takes a big bite of his slice and then licks the side of my face.
“Seth?”
“Your pussy,” he says playfully. “It’s like this cake’s sponge.”
I let out a laugh. “What?”
His lips twitch. “I think that’s why I’m so fixated on it. It’s soft like your pussy, and now I’ll never be able to look at angel food cake the same way again.”
I smile. "You're ridiculous. It really is my favorite thing to eat."
"Yeah," he murmurs, eyes smoldering. "But I think your pussy rivals it now."
Famous last words.
He tosses the plate to the side and rolls over me, dropping lower, disappearing beneath the sheets until I feel his mouth on me, his tongue slow against my clit.
It doesn't take long for me to come again.
And then he's back inside me, fucking me slower this time—soft and unhurried, just like the Wellingtons on the screen.
I wonder if he knows he just unintentionally mirrored their entire episode.