Chapter 41 #2
I stop at the red. She leans over and takes my entire length into her mouth until I hit the back of her throat. I groan loud, reaching for her ass again, giving her a playful spank before sliding my hand down to dip into her heat.
“So wet.” It’s a growl.
Not wanting to waste any time, I move her panties to the side and pet her clit. I watch as her head bobs. I wrap her hair around my free hand to catch a glimpse of her pretty face.
“Beautiful,” I grunt. “You’re beautiful.”
I slip two fingers into her entrance, caressing her sweet spot, matching her rhythm. Her moans vibrate through me.
There are no other cars on the street. The light washes over her, cycling from green to yellow to red again. As with everything related to Brie, reality puts my fantasies to shame. Her fervor, the little sounds she makes, the feel of her.
“I can’t take it anymore,” I bellow, and with a wet pop, I pull her off me.
The streetlights shine on her wet mouth, her gleaming eyes, highlighting her darkened cheeks. The light turns green. I drive.
“Take off your panties.” Even to my own ears, I sound like a man possessed.
Next to me, Brie follows my instructions beautifully. She gets extra credit for pulling up the skirt of her dress.
“I wish I could take my time with you,” I rumble.
I smack my hand onto her leg, relishing her gasp of pleasure, and tug it toward me, opening her wide. At some point, her scent diffused into the inside of the truck, overwhelming me in the best way.
My hand covers her, and she begins grinding into me. Her arousal is the hottest fucking thing.
“So fucking hot,” I heave. “Tell me what you need from me.”
“You,” she pants. “Inside me.”
I drive two more blocks, reaching for my wallet and tossing it at her. “Condom.”
A dark lot is up ahead. I hear her tear the foil packet.
Then, against the rules, she leans over for a long, sloppy suck before rolling the condom on.
I make a sharp right turn, put the car in park, and unbuckle both our seatbelts.
Then my hands are on her hips, lifting and dragging her.
I hold her over me just long enough to look into those drugged, needy eyes.
Then I impale her. We both make tortured sounds of relief.
My hands rise to the top of her dress, and I tug, exposing her perfect tits to me. I cover one hard nipple with my mouth as I pinch the other. My free hand kneads her ass. Anywhere I can touch her, kiss her, I do. I’m a man starved.
She grinds against me, making sweet whimpering sounds that inflate my ego. After I’ve given both breasts their due attention, I lick my way up her sternum, suck on her throat, bite the curve of her neck. She fills my truck with gasps and moans, whimpers and sobs.
“Come for me,” she says.
The words alone almost make me spill, but I can’t. Not until she’s come first.
“You,” I huff.
She shakes her head. “Not going to happen. Angle’s all wrong.”
I lift her off me, and she gasps a protest.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I growl as I turn her around so she’s facing forward on my lap. I guide my cock into her again.
This time, her moan is guttural. It’s the same sound she makes when I hit the right spot. My eyes roll to the back of my head, she feels even better this way.
I force myself to focus. “Is this it?”
“Ye-esss,” she moans, head falling against my shoulder.
Nipping at her neck, I bring my hand around to find her clit, rubbing her breast with my other hand.
“You gonna—” fuck, her walls quiver around me, and I nearly black out. “You gonna come?” I wrench the words out.
She makes an incoherent sound as she grabs my forearm. I grit my teeth and keep a steady rhythm.
Her thighs begin to shake. A sound from deep inside her chest rises.
I stay with her, stroking her, coaxing the orgasm out of her.
She slaps the top of the truck, body arching.
Then her walls clamp around me in shuddering convulsions.
Her cry of pleasure is loud as she comes undone in my arms, giving me permission to take what I need.
I work her harder and faster from below, holding her firm in my arms. It only takes a few more pumps before I’m undone, my seizing breaths hot against her bare shoulder as she slumps against me.
My movements slow, and we sit like this, sweaty and heaving for several moments. Then I reach into the door pocket, where I keep some wipes. I draw myself out and shift her to sit sideways on my lap. Even with a condom, wetness glistens on her thighs.
“You don’t have to,” she says.
I look into her eyes. “I want to, Brie. This is part of it for me.”
She doesn’t protest after that. When I’ve taken care of her, I pull her closer, holding her tight, wishing this moment would last forever.
This, the physical part, is easy, we’re so good together.
But I want her to understand she can open herself up to me.
I love her independence and stubbornness, but I want to be the person she can be vulnerable with, too. Trust.
I give her a final kiss and reach across the cab for her panties. As they catch the moonlight, we both freeze.
“What in the Bob Ross . . .”
Her laugh is muffled as she hides her face in my neck. “I—didn’t—know.” She can’t speak for laughing. I take the time to look at the sky blue panties covered in Bob Ross’s face. On the crotch, the sides, both butt cheeks. Everywhere, Bob Ross smiles back at me.
After she’s collected herself, she says, “I didn’t know tonight would end up like this. I would’ve worn something sexier.”
“Not sure you can get sexier than Bob Ross,” I say. “I just wish I’d seen them earlier. Meow.”
She laughs harder. “They were a gift from Mara.”
“Think if I hint hard enough she’ll get some for me next Christmas?”
Abruptly, all the levity in the air gets sucked out. Brie ignores my joke and tugs the top of her dress over her chest. When she moves to her seat, a hollowness forms in my chest.
I don’t get it or know how to stop her from pulling away. With her, it’s always one step forward, two steps back.
Part of me wants to beg her forgiveness all over again, do anything I can because I want a future with Brie. Family time and holidays and sitting on the porch at night, all of it.
Just give her time. She’s still working through our past. I had years to do that.
But something in my gut makes me wonder if time will help.
“Should I take you back to Gia’s?” I ask.
“Yeah, sounds good.” She’s looking out the window, voice far away.