I gasped at the pulse of pleasure the tease of the action caused and Braden groaned in answer, his lips falling on mine. I’m sure the kiss was meant to be slow, sexy, tormenting. It started out that way. But weeks of forestalling this moment had made us both a little impatient. The kiss grew aggressive, bruising, my hands gripping tight to his hair, his hands kneading my waist, my ribs, my br**sts. My br**sts were particularly sensitive, and when his thumb brushed my nipple, my h*ps jerked against him.
“You like that, babe,” he murmured, not really asking since the answer was obvious. His lips trailed kisses down my jaw and neck, my hands slipping out of his hair to his shoulders as he stopped at my right breast. He placed a soft, deliberate kiss to the rise of it and I swear I stopped breathing. Another kiss. Another.
“Braden…” I begged.
I felt him smile against my breast just before I felt the wet heat of his tongue against my nipple as his lips closed around it, drawing it in deep. A sharp lance of lust shot through my sex. “God, Braden!”
He did the same to the other breast and I found myself tilting my h*ps into his, more impatient it seemed than even he was. Then again, it had been longer for me.
“Babe,” his voice rumbled above me as his hand slid down to my hip, stilling me. “Are you wet for me yet, Jocelyn?”
Yes. God yes. “Braden…”
“Answer me.” I could feel his hand moving downwards; felt the graze of his fingers high on my inner thigh, teasing me. “Tell me you’re wet for me.”
When I thought about this afterward, I couldn’t believe I wasn’t embarrassed by his question, or his demand. Or how turned on I was giving into that demand. I’d never had a lover speak dirty to me during sex, but it was working for me. “I’m wet for you,” I whispered against his mouth.
Satisfied he kissed me, a deep, exploring kiss, and his tongue slid over mine as his fingers travelled an inch higher. I jerked at the first touch of them brushing against me. No one else’s fingers had been down there in a while. In response Braden’s kiss grew harder, his touch gentler. My lips broke from his in a moan as he slid his thumb into me, finding my cl*t and pressing down on it.
“Baby, you’re so f**king wet,” he groaned, his head falling to the bed beside mine, his lips on my neck as his thumb slid out of me, replacing it with two thick fingers that slipped slowly inside my channel. My knees fell open as I reached for more, my hands clinging to Braden’s na**d back as I surged up for that ‘more’.
“More,” I pleaded.
And he gave me more, thrusting his fingers in and out of me. He rose up on his other arm to look down at my face as he worked me towards orgasm.
“Yes,” I sighed, feeling it coil and tighten.
And then his fingers were gone.
“What-”
“You’re not coming until I’m inside you,” he told me, his features harsh with need as he pinned my hands to the bed. “I want to feel you come around me.”
Well I wasn’t going to argue with that.
I held onto my sigh of pleasure at the feel of his throbbing c*ck at my entrance. He rubbed against me, teasingly, and I wanted to grab his ass and force him inside. But he held tight to my wrists, grinning as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. As torture, he circled his hips, teasing me more.
“Braden,” I growled impatiently.
This only made him laugh. “What, babe?”
“If you don’t hurry up, I’m backing out.”
“Well we can’t have that.” He thrust hard inside me and I whimpered, stiffening at the flinch of discomfort I felt as my body struggled to accept his size.
Braden’s whole body tensed, his eyes dark on me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, exhaling as my body relaxed around him.
His grip on my wrists loosened, but he didn’t let me go. Instead he nudged forward tentatively, his jaw locking, his eyes closing as if he was in pain. “Jesus, Jocelyn,” he breathed hoarsely. “You’re so f**king tight.”
I lifted my hips, urging him to move, feeling the pleasure start to coil again, feeling full of him and desperate for satisfaction. “It’s been a while.”
His eyes flew open. “How long?”
“Braden…”
“How long?”