Skin to Skin - Page 25/58

It built and built, my nerve endings on fire, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain as his thrusts increased, his hips circling. Unable to contain it any longer, the dam broke, sending me flying into a free-fall of ecstasy. My hands slid across his broad shoulders, scrabbling for purchase on his sweat-slickened skin, clawing him as passion-filled screams poured from my lips, muffled by his kiss. He swallowed them down, moaning against my lips and mingling our cries.

He slammed home once more and wrenched his lips from mine as he came, bringing me again as he jerked inside me, the scalding heat of his release spurting deep. A guttural, ragged cry tore from his throat, twining with the sounds of pleasure still being wrung from my lips, echoing throughout the room.

He dropped his forehead onto my shoulder, our chests heaving as we fought to catch our breath. After a moment, he lifted his head and, holding my gaze, he whispered, “I love you, too, Chloe. I fucking love you, too.”

He kissed me again, then, a sweet kiss that he poured his heart into and my heart spilled over, overflowing with emotion as I fell that much deeper for him.

We drifted off to sleep, still entwined, until I was woken later by the feel of him swelling inside me, hardening and growing until he filled me completely. He grasped me tightly and rolled until I straddled him, opening my thighs wider to settle deeper onto him.

I gasped at the sensation of him sliding deeper than before and my muscles contracted, squeezing around him and making him moan. He watched me, his beautiful, smoky eyes heavy lidded with sleep, letting me set the pace of our love-making.

I tucked my knees tight against his ribs and ground my hips down, circling and swirling, massaging his shaft with rhythmic pulses of my inner walls as I massaged my clit against his pelvis. Of their own volition, my hands came up and cupped my breasts, palming the weight of them as I plucked my nipples, dragging a ragged ‘oh, fuck’ from Brandon as he watched my every move.

My breath hitched as I edged closer to the point of no return, the crescendo building steadily toward climax like a perfectly tuned orchestra. Brandon’s hands encircled my waist, pulling my hips tighter to his and arching into me in counter-point, increasing the friction. One of his thumbs slipped down into my cleft, stroking once…twice…and again over the swollen bud of my clit and I screamed as I came, my body spasming and twitching over his, my thighs growing wet with my release that showed no signs of slowing.

He kept up the lazy circles of his thumb on my clit and began thrusting up into me, short, sharp movements that made his balls slap heartily against my ass, adding to the myriad sensations already flooding me with heart-stopping pleasure. It wasn’t long, though, before his thrusts became erratic and his thumb abandoned its stroking, his hands clenching tightly on my hips, instead, pushing, pulling, and sliding me against him as he worked himself inside me, the hot, drenched folds of my sex swollen and clenching around him, milking him with my everlasting release until he thrust deep once more, roaring out his release as he filled me, grinding against me until every last drop was wrung from him.

I slumped onto his chest, my body shaking and limp, and let exhaustion carry me back to dreamless sleep.

My alarm woke me in the morning and, fumbling for it in the low morning light creeping around the edges of the curtains, I shut it off as quick as I could. I stretched, grinning to myself at the soreness radiating throughout my body.

My eyes drifted to my side, drinking in the sight of the tall, muscular form stretched out beside me, one arm thrown up over his face while the other one looped loosely over my thigh. Contentment spread through my body, commingling with the awe still swirling around at the fact that he was here, in my bed; that he was mine.

I shifted, carefully moving out from under his arm, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead before I slipped out of bed and padding naked to the bathroom. I took a quick shower (and shaved, of course), brushed my teeth, and wrapped a towel around my wet hair, then made my way quietly back into the bedroom to grab clothes.

I smiled at the rumpled, half-awake male lounging on his elbow in my bed, blinking those gorgeous eyes at me, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a secretive, sexy smile.

“You showered already?” he asked, his voice deep and gravelly with sleep.

I laughed and couldn’t help it. “Nah, it’s raining in the bathroom,” I quipped, following it with, “Captain Obvious.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Oh, really? Is that how it is?” Without warning he was up off the bed and had me flung over his shoulder.

The towel tumbled from my head and I squealed as his hand landed solidly on my ass, smacking it smartly.

“Ow! Hey!” I cried, ruining the effect by laughing again.

Brandon tossed me down on the bed and was over me before I’d even settled from the bounce, his face buried in my neck, nipping and licking and kissing every inch, making me moan, shivers skittering up and down my spine as lust curled heavy in my belly. He kissed up my jaw, taking my mouth in a sweet, hot, tongue tangling kiss that had me panting by the time he lifted his lips from mine.

“What time is it?” he breathed, arching into me, pressing the evidence of his arousal firmly to the apex of my thighs, leaving no doubt as to the real question he was asking.

I lifted my mouth back to his, arching into him even more as I muttered, “We have time.”

He threaded his fingers through my hair, tangling them in the damp locks and pulling my head back to bite at the curve of my throat, drawing a low sound from my lips. He separated my thighs with his knees, sliding them open wide and lowering his hips to drag the heavy weight of his erection through the moisture gathered at my opening.

“Oh!” I sighed as he rubbed the engorged head of his shaft over my clit, the pearly drop of fluid seeping from the tip slicking over the tiny, swollen nubbin of nerves to mingle with my own wetness. He continued to slide the hot, hard length of himself between the folds of my sex, teasing my opening and then caressing my clit, alternating strokes with light taps against that tender bud.

The teasing was unbearable, each movement of his body on mine scooting me that much closer to the edge of coming, but keeping me perched on that razor line, not allowing me to go over. Finally, unable to take it anymore, I slid my hand between our bodies and captured him tightly in my fist and stroking him firmly from root to tip before I positioned him at my entrance and raised my hips sharply, impaling myself on his thickness.

My name was wrenched from his lips on a guttural cry as he took over, burying himself in my damp heat, slamming to the hilt. He held tightly to me for just an instant before he began to move, pounding into me with hard, heavy thrusts.

“Chloe…” he moaned, then shifted, making me cry out as he quit my body.

It didn’t last long, though. With quick, efficient movements, he flipped me over and pulled me to the end of the bed, positioning me on my knees, my face pressed to the mattress. “Give me your hands,” he demanded gruffly.

I stretched my arms down my body, along my sides and he grabbed them, pinning them, wrist to wrist, behind my back with one of his hands. “You okay? Is that uncomfortable?” he asked me, softly.

“It’s fine…” I barely got out before he moved behind me, slicking his fingers through my folds, spreading me wide, and then he slammed home once more.

He fucked me, there’s no other word for it. It was dark, heady, and raw, and I loved every second of it. I cried out with every thrust, the loudness of his flesh hitting mine acting as a catalyst, making my insides quiver and clench around him. His balls slapped heavily against my clit, adding another layer of almost painful pleasure to the drag, push, and pull of his thick, rock hard length plundering the tight, slick, depths of my body.