Priceless (Forbidden Men #8)(84)

“Thank God.” He let go of my wrist to grab the second condom of the night.

I was still palming his ass and was almost certain he didn’t even notice until he had the prophylactic on. But then, sadly, he removed my fingers from him right before he shifted and pushed inside me.

It was different this time. I was still sore from our first round and my inner muscles were slightly swollen, making him feel bigger. But it didn’t hurt like the first. This time felt...ooh, damn. I liked this.

“Harder,” I insisted, trying to meet his plunges, though sometimes my CP threw off the rhythm. Brandt didn’t seem to mind; he controlled the pace and movement, and I just needed to enjoy each impact.

Sitting up, he stared down with intensity as he speared my * repeatedly, shoving into me with a primal thirst.

“God, I love watching your tits bounce.” He stroked faster, jarring them more so they’d jiggle harder.

Loving the arousal on his face, I grabbed my breasts with both hands and rolled the hard ends under my thumbs.

“Fucking Christ,” he groaned, his face flushing red and eyes going unfocused. “I’m gonna come. Oh f*ck, Sarah, I can’t—”

That shot me over the edge for some reason. My body tensed, then released with a force that rocked me, making me scream and shudder and come harder than ever.

Above me, he shouted out his orgasm.

I swear, my fingernails gouged holes into the sheets until my body was able to calm down again. Brandt just barely managed to pull free from me before he collapsed face-first onto the mattress next to me.

“Holy f*cking wow,” his muffled voice came from the pillow where his mouth was buried.

I beamed, feeling like I needed to preen in triumph because, seriously...I had no idea I’d ever be able to affect a man like this with my sexual prowess. But accomplishing what I just had—with Brandt of all people—was just...no words could describe the joy bubbling inside me, flowing through my veins and making me glow.

With a giggle, I said, “You’re welcome.”

Laughing, he turned his face so he could focus on me. For the longest second, we shared a grin. No words seemed necessary; we just knew...we made each other extremely happy.

But then the moment passed and he shifted as if uncomfortable before he winced. “I need to get rid of this condom, but I don’t want to move.”

“I need to go to the bathroom too,” I lamented. “But I don’t want to move either. Reese always told me that peeing after sex helps keep you from getting a urinary tract infection.”

“Infection?” In a sudden flurry of movement, Brandt sat upright and flew off the bed. “Shit, why didn’t you say something sooner? I’ll carry you.”

I blinked, watching him quickly dispose of his condom before returning to the bed to scoop me into his arms. “I don’t think it was quite that urgent,” I tried, hoping to calm the panic on his face. “A couple more minutes wouldn’t have mattered that much. And really, you don’t have to carry me.”

When he glanced at me, his features smoothed and mouth relaxed into a soft, affectionate, almost-smile. “I don’t mind. The sooner the better, though, right? You didn’t go after the first time.”

I ran my finger down his cheek. “But what about you not wanting to move?”

“Hey, if you’re leaving the bed, then so am I.” His lips crinkled into a strange sort of pout. “I want to stay with you right now.”

Laughing, I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my forehead to his jaw as he carried me from my room. “So you want to go to the bathroom with me?”

“I’m feeling clingy,” he growled, sending me an irritable glance. “Deal with it.”

“Okay.” Still chuckling, I sighed and let him carry me until we reached the bathroom I shared with the twins.

A mesh bag hanging from the shower curtain rod held all their bath toys and the sink counter was mostly clogged with my cosmetics.

Brandt set me back on my feet next to the toilet, but strangely, he didn’t leave. Turning his back to me—I guess, his way of giving me privacy—he wandered toward the sink and inspected my lotion rack. After picking one up, opening it and giving it a sniff, he’d set it back down and pick up the next.

I tried not to get stage fright as my gaze fixated on his bare ass. God, he had such a nice ass, and it looked even better naked.

“This one’s my favorite,” he announced, turning back to show me my three-quarters-empty bottle of warm vanilla sugar. But I already knew this, reason number one why it was used more than the others.

Blinking up into Brandt’s blue eyes, however, the only thing I could think to say was, “I can’t believe you just stood there and listened to me pee.”

This was so weird, and the weirdest part about it was that it felt strangely domestically cozy.

Chuckling at the dazed expression on my face, he asked, “Finished?”

With a nod, I held up my arms, feeling like a toddler silently asking a grown-up to hold me. Obliging, Brandt swept forward, paused at the sink so I could wash my hands, and then he carried me back to my room.

Once we were bundled back under the sheets together, he became my cuddling best friend again, tugging me close and lying on his back to stare up at the ceiling as he took my hand and interlaced our fingers. With his thumb playing with mine and his gaze fixed on my ceiling, he murmured, “It feels extra quiet without your brother, and Reese, and the twins around.”