CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN Brandon #2
This time I want her to let go of her defensive shield—to let me make her feel the way she’s always deserved.
“Taste,” I command as I push my finger between her lips.
Her eyes widen, just slightly, but she does as she’s told.
Interesting. She follows instructions now.
I watch intently as she sucks gently, teasing me with her tongue before pulling away with a perfect pop. The smirk she maintains is sinful.
“Your turn,” she says, almost as if it’s a challenge.
I raise my eyebrow at her invitation, but I don’t dare hesitate. Instead, I sink to my knees as my hands trail down each subtle curve of her body before landing on her hips.
I’ve never found myself to be more grateful than I am right now that a designer had the brilliant idea to make a dress with a thigh-high slit.
I have to think they had this exact situation in mind as I pull the fabric aside again, this time further than before, and tug her panties down until they land on the elevator floor below her heels.
Holding the dress out of the way with one hand, I use the other to give myself more room between her thighs. I turn her to the side and lift her leg, propping it up on the railing before I position my head between them as she curls her fingers into my hair.
I drag my tongue from back to front across her pussy until I reach the cool metal of her piercing and suck it between my teeth.
“Fuck, Brandon,” she hisses with pleasure.
After a moment, I release the ring and continue to explore her, reveling in the fact that she is every bit as delicious as I imagined—maybe even more so.
“Who’s your Daddy now, Johanna Harris?”
“You are,” she gasps.
“That’s fucking right,” I say. “Now, look in the mirror, baby. I want you to watch me devour you like you’re my favorite fucking meal.”
She hesitates, but as I begin to pull away to reprimand her and remind her who’s in charge, she curls her fingers further into my hair to keep me in place.
“No,” she moans. “Don’t you dare stop now.”
“Then be a good girl and do as you’re told,” I tell her. “Eyes on me, baby.”
There’s a moment of intense eye contact to let me know she’s watching before I turn my attention back to her pussy, plunging two fingers into her as I lick slow, firm circles around her clit. I feel her head fall back as she lets out a small whimper, and I immediately stop what I’m doing.
She opens her mouth to protest, but I quickly slap her clit with just enough force to let her know she’s misbehaving and I’m not letting her get away with it. As soon as the sharp contact is made, I feel her arousal gush onto my fingers.
Fuck, that’s hot. My girl likes it a little rough.
“Oh, no,” I murmur dangerously. “I said, eyes on me. Am I going to make you come before you’ve had a chance to show me how well you can behave?”
She shakes her head, her eyes firmly back on me. “No, Brandon, please—”
“No, what?” I say, cutting her off.
Submit to me, Hurricane. Say it.
“No, Daddy.”
I close my eyes, letting the words I’ve waited to hear for years wash over me as I fight the urge to not come in my fucking pants at how perfect it sounds from her lips.
“That’s right, baby,” I tell her, steadying my voice. “Daddy’s going to make you feel so good.”
I clean up the mess her arousal has made on her thighs with my tongue, dragging it slowly across her skin and savoring every drop.
When I meet her hot, perfect center again, I suck her clit back between my teeth.
She moans as I sink my fingers into her once more, tightening around me as her thighs tremble on either side of my face. I know she’s closer than ever now.
With one more intentional tug on her jewelry while I continue working her with my tongue and fingers, her hips jolt forward and she cries out my name as she comes right against my lips. The sensation is otherworldly, licking her through the waves coursing through her whole body.
As she settles, I pull my face away from between her legs but remain on my knees, looking up at her with complete adoration as she catches her breath.
“I want to be the only man who makes you come like that,” I say, my voice soft. “I want to be the only man who makes you come ever again.”
“Brandon, I—”
“No talking,” I insist, knowing something logical is going to come out of that perfect fucking mouth of hers. “Not tonight, okay? Let’s not ruin it—I just want to let ourselves have one perfect night together. No drama, no what-ifs… just us. We can be realistic when the sun comes up.”
She sighs, unravels my hair from her fingers, and caresses my cheeks in her hands as her expression softens.
“Fine,” she acquiesces. “One night of just us.”
A grin breaks across my face as I retrieve her discarded panties and tuck them neatly into the pocket of my jacket before rising from my position on the floor.
Her dress falls back into place while I lean across her to release the emergency brake, the elevator humming back to life.
After pressing the button for the fourteenth floor again, she settles into my side as we glide upwards.
A chime rings out and when the doors slide open a moment later, Johanna moves into the hallway. She turns back to see me lingering in the door, still not entirely convinced I’m not dreaming. Extending her arm to me, she asks, “Coming?”
I nod, coming out of my trance, and take her hand. “Hell yeah.”
Because I’d follow her anywhere.
Because after six years of silence, I’ve got one night to see if the longing and the clear obsession has been worth it.
One night to make her see what we could be, too.
One night to change my life—our lives—forever.