Chapter 12
She should have run. Got the fuck out of there before he made good on that promise to ruin her whole damn life. It was too late. The wrecking ball had entered the chat. She would be scratching at the neck for another hit of him.
She couldn’t run.
She wanted more. Needed more.
Brooks kissed her slowly, their lips moving in a rhythm so fluid, so effortless, it felt like they’d been doing this for years instead of minutes.
Her body hummed, her senses overwhelmed by the way his warm mouth moved over hers, deepening the kiss, claiming her.
When he sighed into her mouth, the vibration sent a shockwave through her spine, and before she could stop herself, she sighed too loudly.
Taylor pulled his body close to hers, she needed to feel him. Needed him in a way that scared the shit out of her.
“Again?” He asked as she opened her eyes. The flood lights outside illuminated her face allowing him to look into her eyes. Brooks rested his head on her forehead.
“Again,” she muttered. Brooks slid her off of the dresser and placed her on her feet. Her back was to his chest now, her breath slowing down a bit. The anticipation of what he’d do next was making her dizzy .
This was the type of sex she only read about, the kind she thought only existed in her darkest, most secret fantasies. She never imagined that she’d be in thigh-high boots, standing in front of a mirror, while her best friend’s brother devoured her like a buzzard.
Blake forgive her. God help her.
Brooks’ lips met her neck, swirling his tongue with precision, applying just enough pressure to have her shuddering.
He moved his hand down her stomach, his breath hot on her skin.
Then, without warning, he grabbed her pussy in his hand, cupping her heat, pressing two fingers inside, his palm rubbing lazy circles against her clit.
“Oh my God...” she whispered, her head dropping back, resting against his shoulder.
“Yeah, that’s what I like,” he murmured. His thumb traced slow strokes against her swollen bud. With his free hand, he guided her head down making sure she watched herself in the mirror. Instinctively, her body wound against his hand.
Her knees buckled. She reached out, grabbing his hand between her legs, her other hand smacking against the mirror for balance. Brooks pulled his hand away, replacing it with her own.
“You feel that?” Brooks whispered against her skin, guiding her hand with his own, dragging her pointer finger over her clit.
She inhaled sharply and exhaled.
“There you go,” he murmured, watching as her breath stuttered.
Brooks kept his hand over hers, letting her feel just how wet she was. Then, he moved his hand away completely, sliding up to her breasts, pinching and plucking at her sensitive nipples.
“Look,” he ordered, “You want it, get it.”
Taylor shook her head. He was torturing her.
She was losing herself, slipping into something she wasn’t prepared for. All she wanted was a fun night at the strip club. Not to be considering her life choices.
“I can’t.”
Smack.
She yelped, as the sting of his palm met her bare ass.
Brooks smoothed his hand over the spot. “You can,” he said, his voice edged with authority. “Open your eyes.”
She opened her eyes again and stared at her once perfectly straightened hair now disheveled, sticking to her face. Sweat covering them both. Her eyes were glazed, her lips swollen, her own fingers still buried inside her, working herself closer to the edge.
“It’s just me and you, Taylor. You can do whatever the fuck you wanna do. Get what you came here for.”
Brooks watched her unravel, completely transfixed. Blessed that he got to be a witness. He could see her pleasure building, see the way her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow gasps.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Faster.”
Taylor sighed softly, her fingers sliding faster, following his instructions. Her fingers were covered in her juices. It was so sloppy. She felt the pressure building and kept going until her body locked up. She came so hard she collapsed into Brooks chest.
She let her head rest against his shoulder, her thighs trembling against him. She couldn’t believe she’d just done that. A slow grin grew on her face .
Brooks leaned down, his lips barely touching her warm skin, and murmured into her ear, “You might be a little freak. Let me find out. You still with me?”
Taylor nodded so fast it made him chuckle.
“Talk to me, Tay.”
“Yes,” she admitted, her voice rough. Brooks grinned, the type of grin that should’ve had her running out of the room.
Brooks stepped back and discarded the rest of his clothing. Everything but his boxer briefs. Her eyes dropped, narrowing to the bulge.
Damn .
Brooks stood before her. His thick, muscled chest rose and fell, his dark tattooed skin glistening under the dim light. He looked like he was preparing to stretch her ass wide and she hoped he did.
Taylor stepped toward him, her body moving before her mind could catch up. She removed her bra, allowing to fall slowly from her fingertips, nipples peaking, aching, craving his mouth, his hands, all of him. Brooks grabbed her hand and pulled her to him.
“Can I touch you?” Taylor’s voice was quiet, hesitant, and laced with nerves. The way he had dominated the night, she didn’t know what she was allowed to do. She didn’t know how to act.
“I’m yours for the night. Do what you want. ‘Cause I promise you, I’m doing what I want with you.”
She swallowed, held his gaze, then traced her hand down his solid chest, fingers explore the ridges of his abs before slipping lower, beneath the band of his boxer briefs. The moment her hand wrapped around his flesh, his dick jumped in her palm, thick and heavy.
Taylor breathed, mesmerized by the way he twitched just from her touch.
She stroked him once, slow and curious, fingertips teasing his tip. Brooks exhaled through his nose, jaw flexing. She liked seeing him react to her, liked having this kind of power over him.
Her grip grew firmer, but before she could fully take control, Brooks pushed her down onto the bed. Taylor exhaled shakily, the soft material cool against her heated skin.
Brooks stood over her, boxers now discarded, wearing a dark gaze. He rolled down her boots, kissing his way down her legs to her foot, relaxed, cherishing.
She giggled. She was completely naked and at his mercy. He climbed onto the bed and leaned over her. And looked at the sex haze she was in. She was beautiful. She was the thing he’d been missing.
Taylor could feel the thick head of his dick brushing against her slick entrance, teasing her, nudging her open. After the way he’d handled her body so far, she knew this finale would be the thing that sent her over the edge.
“You need me to fuck you, Tay?” He muttered against her lips, sliding himself slow, deliberate.
Taylor’s toes curled, her eyes rolled. His voice alone was about to her cumming again. Her mind was going a mile a minute. She wanted to feel him.
“Brooks, please.”
She’d never been one to ask, let alone plead—but with him, pride had no place.
“Please, Brooks, please.”
Brooks tilted his hips and slid in slow, inch by inch. Her fingers gripped his arms as he stretched her open. She winced. Brooks stilled again .
“Don’t run. Relax. You can trust me.”
She was so wet and tight he almost caught his first nut. Brooks kissed her softly, causing her to loosen up. Her whole body relaxed as he slowly kissed her. He wasn’t here for fucking not yet. She was worth more than that.
Once she relaxed, Brooks took that as his cue. He began thrusting in deeper, finding the spot that pulled a whimper from her lips. She pushed back instinctively, nowhere to run.
“That’s it,” he murmured against her mouth, savoring the way she gave in.
Her body jerked, heat pooling low, her thighs tightening around him. Brooks grunted, pulling back before pushing in with more purpose, more pressure.
“Brooks...” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
“I hear you, love.” His beard scraped lightly against her skin, sending shivers through her body.
He slowed his rhythm and sank into her, long, steady strokes that made her follow his rhythm. Taylor’s fingers dug into the sheets, her body arching as he gripped her hips, anchoring her in place.
His movements were unhurried. Deliberate. Addictive.
Her breath came in soft, desperate gulps.
Her thighs clamped around his waist, her walls swallowing him and bringing him back in as her body fought what it wasn’t used to.
There was so much pleasure swirling in her body.
Brooks gripped her hips tighter and held her still while her legs shook and soft moans escaped her lips.
“Ain’t nowhere for you to run. ”
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. He pulled out slapped his dick against her clit before slowly easing back in and then back out. A tear rolled down her cheek, and he kissed it away. He placed soft kisses all over her face as her emotions got the best of her for a moment.
“You good?”
She nodded, barely breathing.
He traced a slow line down her stomach, making her shiver.
“Brooks...”
“Shh.”
He kissed her again—deeper this time, claiming her mouth with slow heat. He pinned her arms above her head and rolled his hips forward.
“Brooks... oh my—”
Her words fell apart as her back coiled off the bed, fingers locked with his. The slap of skin echoed in the room, loud, wet and perfect.
Brooks let her hands go and gripped her knees, pressing them to her chest. He drove in deeper, giving her everything.
Taylor cried out, breath catching, nerves firing in every direction.
“Fuck,” she breathed, clutching the sheets as her body lost control.
Brooks grinned against her neck, hips grinding into her like he was carving himself into memory.
Taylor’s head fell back, lips parted in a silent scream.
“That’s it, sexy,” he murmured. “Let me have it.”
And she did. Her entire body convulsed, her thighs shivering, her mind blank. The pleasure hit so hard, so deep, it nearly took her home to glory .
Brooks cursed low as her body pulled him deeper, his release crashing into him like a freight train. Their bodies jerked, locked, unraveled together—lost in a pleasure that felt damn near spiritual.
The only sound in the room was their ragged breathing and the soft hum of the cars passing by.
Taylor lay spent, every nerve buzzing. Brooks hovered over her, pressing soft kisses to her forehead, the tenderness of it causing a tear to slide down her cheek. This man had just fucked her into oblivion and was now holding her like she was something precious.
She hated crying in front of people. Hated needing someone. But she needed this.
Being strong wasn’t the problem. It was never being allowed to be anything else.
Brooks was sticking around like none of that scared him.
She hadn’t meant for it to go this far.
But wasn’t that how it always started? A late-night phone call, a soft laugh, a lingering look, and suddenly you’re finding your panties tangled in the sheets.
What was happening with Brooks felt natural. Too natural. And that’s what scared her most. Her mind was gone.