Casanova(63)

“I know exactly what I’m asking. I’m asking you to fuck me senseless, Brett. But if you don’t want to...”

He grabbed the back of my head and brought my face to his so our noses were tip-to-tip. “I want to. Trust me, I want to. I just don’t believe that you want to.”

I pulled back just enough that my vision was focused and I could see perfectly the way his eyelashes fanned out and framed his stunning gray-blue eyes. “I want to,” I said softly.

And I didn’t know if I’d ever meant anything more.

Brett stared at me. His jaw twitched, meaning his lips did the same thing. Except his lips moved up into the tiniest smirk, one that I knew was supposed to be threatening. “Do you, Lani? Do you really want me to fuck you? Because let me tell you this, kitten—when I fuck you, you’ll feel me for days. Every time you walk, you’ll feel my cock inside you, fucking you. You won’t be able to sleep unless you’re dreaming about being on your pretty little fucking knees in front of me. Every time you wake up it’ll be screaming my name.” He curled his fingers around my neck so perfectly it felt like they were meant to be there. “And every fucking second I’m inside you, you’ll be praying to the god of mercy because I’ll fuck you so damn hard you’ll wish I’d give you that—mercy.”

“Maybe I don’t want that,” I whispered against his lips.

He tugged my hips forward so hard I whimpered when my clit pushed against his thick cock through our clothing. “Then the only thing I expect you to beg for is more.”

“Really? I expect you to fuck me so hard I can’t beg for anything.”

“Touché.”

“Wasn’t it?”

“Lani? Shut up, because I’m going to kiss the fucking life out of you.”

Before I could consider replying, he did it.

Brett pressed his lips to mine and kissed me damn hard. Not my kind of hard though. His kind of hard. The kind where the simplest of touches could be felt in never-ending shivers across my skin. Where no other kiss could even compare.

It was wrong.

I knew it was wrong.

The problem was that the things that were so wrong, so often felt so right.

His abs were rock hard beneath my fingers as I slid my hands down to his stomach, and they weren’t the only thing I wanted to touch that was hard.

I had no idea what had come over me, but somehow, in the middle of it all, I knew one thing: fighting it was futile. If I didn’t want it, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I wouldn’t be sitting on him with my lips against his and my hands on his stomach, and I sure as hell wouldn’t be clenching my thighs in a stupid attempt to get rid of the ache between my legs.

No,, deep down, I wanted this. Especially after today. I wanted this and I wanted him while he was the guy I remembered.

“Get up,” Brett ordered, his mouth still on mine. “Your room. Now.”

He didn’t need to tell me twice. Lord only knew that if he did, I’d have fought him. He knew exactly how to push my buttons, and right now, he was pushing all the right ones.

I wanted it to stay that way before my common sense clicked in and I started to regret this.

I climbed off of him and grabbed his hand with a strange confidence. I wasn’t exactly used to having random sex with not so random guys, and especially not someone like Brett. Someone who wasn’t afraid to tell me what he wanted.

Maybe that was where it came from. His willingness to tell me what he wanted, how he wanted it, and where he wanted it perhaps matched what I myself wanted on some level.

As I dragged him up the stairs, I knew I wanted to find out if he could fuck the fuck as well as he talked the talk.

I didn’t have to wait long to find out.

The second we crossed the threshold into my room, any lead I had on him from pulling him up the stairs behind me was gone. He spun me into his body, slammed the door, and pushed me back against it. The wood was still vibrating from the harsh bang as my back collided with it, but it was no more than a fleeting thought, because lust took over.

Brett pinned me to the door with his body, slipping one leg between mine and keeping the pressure on my throbbing clit courtesy of his strong thigh. His fingers slipped between mine as he lifted my hands above my head so I couldn’t even touch him. I was completely trapped, and all it did was cause my desire to explode like adrenaline through my veins.

I wanted him.

Fuck, I wanted him.

So I let him have me.

He dove his tongue between my lips mercilessly. He was right when he said he’d never give me mercy. He didn’t, not from his kiss, his grip on my hands, or the way his cock pressed against my hip. He was relentless in his assault of my senses, from touch to taste and everything in between.

I was incapable of stopping him as his hands roamed across my upper body and beneath my shirt. I didn’t give a crap as he pushed it up over my breasts and eventually, my head. His followed seconds later, and his hot skin burned as it pressed against mine.

I gasped when his mouth traveled down my neck. He licked and sucked at my skin between hot kisses, and my heart thundered when he slipped his hands beneath the hem of my skirt and pushed it up so it was bunched around my hips.

Brett hooked one of my legs up over his hip then, returning his greedy mouth to mine, brushed one finger over my thong.

I whimpered. It was ridiculous, but I did. The light touch had ghosted right over my clit, and I was already aching for him. In that moment, I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone. Sure, it was lust talking, but I was going to listen to it.