17. Undisclosed Desires #3
I swing one leg over, straddling him. My breath comes in shallow gasps as I run my fingers through his hair. He hums in approval, jaw slack, and I grind my hips against his growing erection.
A ragged whimper escapes his throat.
There’s something about the way he holds me—firm, possessive—pulls at something I’ve been trying to keep shut.
Being in a closed, dark space should feel suffocating, but instead, it’s unexpectedly intimate.
Add to that the fact that we’re in a public parking garage, one wrong move from being seen, and it shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does.
But it does. God, it does. The danger, the secrecy, the way his body screams for mine—it’s all so intoxicating I can hardly think straight.
I roll my hips again, flirting with danger.
His hands fly to my waist, steadying me. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come in my pants.”
I try to move under his grip, but he holds me firmly.
“And I’d rather shoot my load inside you. On your tits. Or on your lips—watch it drip down that pretty fucking chin.”
His filthy words make my insides throb. The need swells in me, and without another thought, I crash my lips over his, swallowing every crude word. My tongue strokes his, tasting him.
His hands roam—grappling every inch of me.
My fingers trail down to his jeans. I unclasp his belt, then pop the button. He lifts me off him awkwardly, fumbling to work my jeans off. Frustration sizzles between us, and then—rip—he tears my thong clean off.
“Broderick,” I gasp.
“What do you want, Elena?” he asks, mouth hot against my neck, nipping and biting at the crook.
I palm his cock through his boxers, rising slightly before freeing him and notching it at my entrance.
With my other hand, I cup his face and push his head back.
“Don’t take your eyes off me,” I whisper, running my thumb over his lips. “I want you…”
I lower myself onto him, slowly. His jaw slackens.
“…to watch me.”
He gasps.
“Take you…inch—”
He bites down on my thumb. A moan punches out of me, as I feel the pressure in my thumb and at my core, stretching around the thickest part of his shaft.
“—by inch.”
Broderick’s eyelids flutter.
I take the rest of him—right to the base. He feels so full this way, all-consuming. My body melts around him before I slide back up, rocking my hips in painfully slow strokes.
“Ah, fuck,” Broderick cries out, eyes flying shut.
“Watch me,” I whimper, gasping at the way his cock strokes every tender part of me. The friction. The heat.
He opens his eyes—green and dark in the shadows—and I burn under the weight of his gaze. I love the way he looks at me. Love the way he makes me feel so good.
Languid strokes—up and down. I ride him, my fingers clawing at his mouth, my other hand circling my clit the way I like. His fingers digging into my thighs. I use him. Claim him.
We find our rhythm—his hips bucking up to meet me, thrust for thrust. I grind harder, chasing that edge. The pressure builds, sharp and insistent, before it snaps—like the string of a guitar pulled too tight.
We cry out each other’s names as we unravel together, lost in the blinding rush of release.
My head rests on his shoulder, our sweat-slicked skin cooling against each other, nothing but our ragged breathing filling the space between us.
“You never answered my question,” he murmurs.
“What question was that?”
“How many?”
I straighten, sighing as I meet his gaze. “Two.”
His eyes widen, surprise flickering across his face as he absorbs the answer.
“What,” he finally says.
“Yes. Him...and you.” I tap the tip of his lips with my finger.
A shadow of something softer passes through him. “Now I really wish you’d met me first.”
That sentiment—from the beach—settles heavy between us. And something about the way he says it makes my heart ache. Would Broderick have been more careful with my heart? Or am I doomed to circle this endless loop of what-ifs?
I laugh, lightening the mood. “With your monster cock? Jesus Christ, I probably would’ve ended up in the ER.”
He throws his head back and laughs, that deep rumble shaking through me.
“We can’t dwell on the past, Brody. We’re here now. And I don’t regret it. I’m glad for the experience. In some ways,” I add, tracing lazy circles on his chest.
He studies me. “Would you ever be open to...trying things with me?”
“Oh, in-house training? Do I get a sign-up bonus?” I tease, threading my fingers through his hair.
He hums, clearly enjoying the contact. “Well?”
“Like what?”
“Anal?”
“You want to fuck my ass?” I giggle, more intrigued than offended.
“Yes.”
“Will it hurt?”
“We’ll work up to it,” he says, smug. “Wouldn’t want you ending up incapacitated because of my—what did you call it—monster cock.”
His pride makes me roll my eyes, but the idea sends a little thrill curling through me. I squirm in his lap, feeling the stir of heat all over again.
“What else?” I ask, breathless.
“Can I tie you up? Cuffs? Blindfolds?”
I bite my lip and nod slowly.
“I’m going to have so much fun with you, baby,” he says darkly.
A grin spreads across his face, wicked and full of promise.