Break Me (Brayshaw High) - Meagan Brandy Page 0,106

come, but I want more.

So much more.

So I tell him, and his response is epic.

His teeth bite at the material of my shirt, his free fingers curling inside of it at the base of my neck, and like he began to promise earlier, he shreds the thing from my body.

The cool night air stings my skin, my breasts threatening to pop from my bra, and my body has no clue what to do. It’s firing on every nerve—hot and cold, wild and wanting.

I’m consumed by him and his every move.

Royce’s fingers pause, but don’t pull out as his mouth falls to the hollow of my neck. He sears a path down my breastbone, dominating my body with his lips alone.

His mouth comes back up, biting over the mark he gave me earlier, and he growls, grinding into me as his fingers begin to slip in and out with impressive speed. His thumb reaches up to roll around my clit, and the fire in my core builds, taking me over inch by glorious Royce infused inch.

My legs shoot straight, stiff as a board, and I moan into the air.

Royce pulls back then, and my body cries in protest.

I look over my shoulder, but I’m met with his eager lips, hard and pressing.

I tug my body free, roll over, and climb onto him.

I ride him with my clothes on, but he still finds a way to push his hand back into my jeans. He rubs at my clit with perfectly applied pressure, vibrating his fingers against me, and I freeze above him, biting into his lip, and crying into his mouth.

As my body starts to shake, his free hand comes around, pushing me down against his cock and feeling how hard he is for me, that does it.

I come and it’s not short and a quick one.

It’s bursting and breath-stealing and oh my god, Royce is underneath me.

With eyes as black as a scorched night’s forest, he doesn’t dare look away. I might bite into him harder if he tried.

I grip his hair, and his hand comes out of my jeans, gripping on to my ass, and I start grinding on him.

A heavy dip forms between his brow and when I make a circle, those lips of his part, and he grinds right back.

His hands shoot up to my shoulder and he yanks me down. We kiss with such a savage harmony it aches deep in my chest. I don’t want to stop, but I know this might not be enough for him, and I refuse to end this night without earning his orgasm, something of his I’ve wanted for weeks.

It’s beyond wanting him to know I can make him feel good. I need him to know that I can.

I can give him all he needs, even if he has to show me how to do so first, and something tells me he’ll be more than willing.

So I lift, slipping my hands into his basketball shorts, and he doesn’t protest.

He lets me take him into my palm, and when I crawl off of him, he follows me with eyes as dark as black satin.

I’ve watched porn, I’ve seen raunchy movies.

I know how to give head, or I know enough to know how to start.

“Tell me what you like.”

He slams his head back onto the blanket, only to lift it again with a growl. “You put that mouth on me, it’s mine.”

My heart hammers in my chest.

His words are enticing and bury themselves deep into my bones.

It might sound pathetic, but all I’ve ever wanted is to be wanted for real, and for Royce to be that someone is more than I could ever ask for. He is more than I could ever ask for.

I dip my head, and his hand shoots out, gently wrapping around my neck and leading my eyes to his.

They’re firm and hooded like a hawk.

“I’m far from fuckin’ playin’. Last chance. Touch my cock, you’re mine.”

“Then stop talking, Playboy. Let me make it official.”

His jaw sets, those eyes searching mine, and a curt nod follows. His hand on my neck spreads out, curling around to the side of my face, and while he doesn’t guide me down, he leaves it there as I lower myself.

My lips meet the head of his cock, and I relish in the soft satin of his skin against my mouth, skimming back and forth over the tip, and hard breaths has his nostrils flaring.

I run my tongue along the underside, twisting and testing