Because (Seven Year Itch #4)(56)

When he lifts me a second time my legs wrap around his waist. He easily carries me to the bedroom we used to share. Even as my back hits the mattress I don’t let go of my hold on him. I need his skin touching mine. I can’t bear to be away from him, not even inches. His mouth separates, his greedy tongue taunting mine as it circles around. “I want you so much, Shay.”

“I want you too. Do it. Fuck me.”

He sits straight up in the bed and shakes his head. I watch his teeth course over his bottom lip as he traces his fingers over my right nipple. “I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen tonight.”

Now I’m sitting up wondering what the hell is happening.

Then he reiterates.

“I refuse to f*ck you. It’s not enough. It’s never been enough. Tonight I’m going to make love to you – to my wife, to my best friend.” He kisses me passionately until I stop him.

“You’re saying everything I want to hear.”

“I mean every word.”

My palms slide down his chest as I consider this change in him. Is it possible? Has the man I doubted learned what’s important to me? Does he understand? Is it that easy?

“Okay. Show me then. Give me a reason to let you back into my heart. Prove this is where you belong.”

He takes hold of my body and flips us around. I’m on top, but his strength keeps him in control. He’s rock hard beneath me, but he doesn’t make it aware. It’s like he’s saving it for the grand finale. Brandon lifts me until I’m straddling his face. He’s holding me in a way that allows him to cup both of my breasts as his tongue glides over my throbbing clit. The instant he makes contact with my sensitive bud I know I’m going to fall victim to my own desires. I can’t resist him, not when he knows every inch of me.

He teases me with his whiskers. His tongue laps my * like a sweet dessert. He’s rough but paced. The more force he applies the better it feels. My senses are heightened and I know in a matter of seconds I’m going to crumble. It’s coming. My release is earth shattering. I buck over his face, my natural secretions flowing out like a faucet.

I expect him to roll me over and wipe off, but he doesn’t. He flips me on my stomach and comes up behind me. I think he’s done taking his time only to feel something warm and soft licking over my ass crack. He teases the hole and then gets back to sucking my * lips in his mouth. He tugs and licks, taking turns as if he’s savoring a peach. I’m losing my ability to remain on my knees. I’m falling flat and he wants it to happen. Over and over I succumb to pleasure he’s never been able to give me. Something has changed, but I can’t figure it out. Brandon isn’t just a good lover now, he’s learned how to love me. It’s the emotional bond he’s never been able to bring to our bed. I’m overwhelmed from the beginning.

Brandon doesn’t stop when he’s done with one task. He flips me over and trails kisses up my abdomen, both nipples and then my lips. I can taste my * on his tongue and the skin of his chin as I drag my tongue over it. It turns me on to know he’s feasted on my most secret of places.

Now he’s touching me there, dragging his hands through what remains of my release. I’m sensitive and with each stroke my body trembles. “Do it, Bran. Make love to me.”

“I am.”

I shake my head. “Not until you’re inside of me.”

He’s right there. I can feel it now. It’s like he’s knocking on the door and waiting to be escorted. I spread my legs further and jerk my hips so he knows I don’t want to wait any longer. I’m dying for it to happen. And then it does.

Remnants of my last orgasm erupt into a full blown attack over my senses. He’s taking his time, filling me with all he has to give. He holds me close, his kisses slow and powerful again. It’s so intense he’s shaking. It’s like the first time all over again except I appreciate it more. This is unselfish. It’s beautiful, and I know now what I’ve been missing. It’s not in the way he moves. It’s not in the things he says. It’s everything. I get it now. He’s mine and I’m his. We’ve accepted it, and it’s powerful and awakening.

We make love for hours, only resting in between when it becomes necessary. We move from room to room, taking a shower in the middle of the night and then having sex again. Each time he’s slower, like he’s rediscovering me. He’s not boasting or compulsive. He’s admiring and indifferent.

I’m in utter bliss.

It’s not until I wake the next morning that reality sets in. He’s still sleeping beside me, stark naked with only a sheet covering his genitals. He’s innocent this way, and I wish I could keep him here where I know he’ll never hurt me again, but I can’t.

I bring my knees up to my chest and watch him until he stirs. He immediately reaches for me and pulls me to lie next to him. “Hey, you.”

“Bran, we need to talk about what last night means.”

He sits up and I can tell he’s alarmed. “What?”

“Last night was wonderful, but I can’t let you come home yet, not for good.”

He rubs his hands through his hair. “No. I can’t accept that. I’ve done everything you asked of me.”

“I know. I just need to be sure. I can’t let last night determine our future. We were caught in the moment. It was intense and I’m still riding on the high. I’m just asking for a few days to sort it all out.”