Breathless (Steel Brothers Saga #10)(50)

Chapter Thirty–One





Marjorie





He was thinking about walking away. I could tell by the tension radiating off him, the look of painful determination in his eyes.

No way.

No way was I letting him go. Not until I’d given his body the same treatment he’d bestowed on mine. A tiny part of my mind flew to the scar on my upper thigh.

No. Can’t ruin this moment.

“Marjorie…”

“Please,” I said urgently.

He sighed. “I want to more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

“Then do it. I want it too. Take off your clothes, Bryce. Let me touch you.”

Finally, he stood and began to disrobe. First his shirt, too damned slowly, his fingers unbuttoning each button as if it were permanently attached. Finally, he parted the two halves of his shirt, and I beheld his chest and abs, tan and muscled with light-brown hair scattered over his pecs. His nipples were a coppery color, and they looked delicious. I slid my tongue over my bottom lip as my mouth watered for a taste of him. He slid the shirt over his shoulders, baring them in their broad glory, and tossed it to the floor.

I stood. I couldn’t help myself. I had to touch that marvelous flesh. I skimmed my fingers over his shoulders, relishing their muscled tautness. I trailed my hands over his chest, fingering his nipples that hardened further under my touch. I couldn’t help a slight smile.

Yes. I affected him as much as he affected me.

I continued down his abdomen, touching each indentation of his six-pack. So beautifully masculine and perfect.

Then, I smoothed my fingers over the trail of sandy hair leading to…

I grabbed his belt buckle.

His hand covered mine, stopping me.

“Let me,” I said. “Please.”

He moved his hand away with a sharp intake of breath, sighing. “Okay.”

I smiled again while I unbuckled his belt and then unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. His bulge was covered by his light-green boxer briefs. Light green, except for a darker pearl-sized spot. I wet my lips and slid the jeans and boxer briefs over his hips quickly.

His cock sprang out at me, the tip glistening. I glided my tongue over it to lick up the wetness.

He sucked in a huge breath. “Damn.”

“You didn’t think I’d let you go without giving you a taste of your own medicine, did you?” I teased.

I slid my lips over his cockhead and sucked gently.

Another swift intake of breath.

He tasted of salt and man.

And I wanted more.

A lot more.

I let the head drop with a tiny pop and then kissed along his shaft, all the way to his balls, which had already tightened up against his body. Downy light-brown hair covered them, and when I inhaled his musk and kissed them, he gasped.

“Damn!”

I licked his inner thighs and then made my way back to the main course, his magnificent cock.

Bryce Simpson, you’re about to get the blow job of a lifetime.

I slid my wet lips over his cockhead and most of the way down his thick shaft, controlling my gag reflex.

I was good at giving head. All my past lovers had said so, and even though I’d gone over a year now without having sex, it was like riding a bike.

In this case, a really big bike with thick tires.

Bryce was massive. I already knew how he felt inside me. Now I wanted him in my mouth, his seed drizzling down my throat.

I squirmed. I was wet and ready.

Did I want him coming in my mouth or in my pussy? Did I need to make the choice? Right now, I wanted to suck his dick, so that was what I’d do. I pulled back and then took him nearly to the base. Damn, he was huge.

“Fuck. Marj. Don’t.”

I smiled—or as much as I could with my mouth full of cock. Not stopping. No way.

I added my fist so I could get down all the way to the base of his shaft and began sucking faster.

“You’re going to kill me,” he gritted out.

Didn’t care. By the end of this, he’d no longer associate me with pink and yellow unicorns. No way in hell.

“Can’t,” he panted. “Can’t.”

You can, Bryce. Oh, yes, you can.

“Don’t. Want. This. To end. Yet.”

Neither did I. And I wanted him in my pussy more than I wanted him to come in my mouth. I wanted us truly joined.

I let him go, stood, and then pushed him until he was sitting on the bed. He removed his boots and socks quickly and then slid his jeans and boxers off and onto the floor. Once he was completely naked, I resisted the urge to stare at him, pushed him flat on the bed, and straddled him.

Slowly I sank down onto his cock.

God. So full. So completely full. I sat there a moment, just savoring how he filled me, how he eased the empty ache.

He closed his eyes. “You’re so tight, baby.”

I leaned down and kissed him, tracing his lips with my tongue, and he opened. We kissed deeply while he pistoned into me and I moved with him. We found our perfect rhythm, and we kissed as we made love.

So good. Nothing had ever been like this—this true completion. I broke the kiss to inhale a necessary breath. He cupped my tits and thumbed my erect nipples.

“Touch yourself, baby. Touch yourself, and come with me.”