Trouble at Brayshaw High - Meagan Brandy Page 0,89
the same second.
He pulls my jeans off while losing his and my legs fall open, welcoming him in. He takes up every inch of the space, pushing his dick against my clit over my underwear.
His rough hands run up my sides until he’s pulling my shirt over my head, but he doesn’t pull it all the way off. He leaves it tangled there, covering my face, my arms both up.
His lips drag across the edge of my breasts, his chin pushing my bra down so he can bite on my nipple.
He licks it, blowing his warm breath over the wet spot, making me shiver.
“Maddoc...” I whisper, and he grinds against me.
“Almost, baby.” He kisses his way to my left breast and does the same, before making his way up my neck, and finally he pulls the shirt off the rest of the way.
I grip his face and pull his mouth to mine, kissing him fiercely.
Hungrily.
Fucking needy.
I shift my lower half, gasping when the heat of his head slides past my underwear.
He groans against my mouth and reaches down to shove them aside the rest of the way. He aligns himself and I lift my hips, forcing him inside me when he tries to take his time.
When I sigh, he grins and nips at my lips, but when he catches my eyes, his features shift.
His hand comes up to run down my temple, slowly sinking into my hair.
His hips move leisurely, deep full strokes that are driving me mad, but it’s such a good kind of torture.
I moan softly, and he drops his forehead to mine.
“Wrap your arms around me, baby.”
I do as he asks, and he buries his face into the crook of my neck, sighing against my skin and he fucks me slow.
“I love the feel of your pussy, baby,” he whispers. “So tight, so wet.”
I throb around him and he twitches inside me.
“So fucking good.” He grinds deeper and my head tips back. “And mine.”
My fingers twitch, and I slide them up his back, gripping the tops of his shoulders, using his body as a barrier and forcing him deeper.
“Come for me, baby.” He bites against my neck and I start to shiver. He lifts my knee, pushing it out and he hits deeper. “Come with me.”
And I do. I come as he does, both our bodies jolting against each other.
He pulls out and once we clean-up we drop back onto the bed, moving under the covers this time.
We both lie there silent for a few minutes when he finally speaks.
“I meant what I said to you,” he tells me. “His being here changes nothing between us. You’re mine, Raven Carver. No matter what.”
“And are you mine, Big Man?” I ask despite myself.
“Yes.” His answer is instant and should settle me.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t.
I didn’t sleep.
Not even a little all weekend, and now the sun is almost up as the smell of bacon wafts through the bottom of the door, but it’s when the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee hits my nostrils that I tense.
Yesterday, thankfully, Rolland spent the day in his office going over Brayshaw business and we stayed up in the media room, watching crappy movies Royce picked out.
Today seems we won’t be so lucky.
Never thought I’d be excited for school.
I slip from the bed, leaving Maddoc laying there, pull on some sweats and a hoodie and make my way downstairs.
Sure as shit, there he stands, slacks and all, dressed up already.
He doesn’t look up but says, “Good morning, Raven.”
I frown and drop on the bar stool. “How’d you know it was me?”
This time he does turn, a grin on his lips. “My sons weigh twice what you do. I would have heard them coming the second their feet hit the hall.”
I hold his eyes. “Cap likes to do the cooking in the mornings, so you should have asked him to join you or waited, and they let Maddoc make the coffee so he can decide how strong he wants it. Now it won’t be what he needs for the day.”
He rolls his shoulders to hide that they grew tense and he turns back to his task at hand – flipping bacon in a fucking crisp white dress shirt.
He clears his throat. “And Royce?” he asks quietly.
I watch his back intently. “Royce likes hot chocolate. Usually Cap makes it for him so it’s ready when he wakes up. He helps set the table. They all clean up.”