Neat (Becker Brothers, #2)(66)

“Jesus fucking Christ, Mallory,” I said, and she hummed, her lips vibrating over my shaft. She was soaking, and I knew I didn’t have to say it for her to know. She rolled her hips against my hand, rubbing her wet clit against my palm, taking my finger deeper — and my cock deeper in her mouth in the process.

When I looked down and saw the bulge in her throat — that bulge being me — I pulled out on another curse, stopping myself from coming and flipping her over on the bed before she could wipe the corners of her mouth and ask my why.

“My turn,” I whispered at the hollow space under her ear. I licked her lobe, sliding my hands under her shirt and peeling it over her head before I made quick work of her sleep shorts. I bent her over the edge of the bed she’d just had her head hanging off, and then I lowered myself to my knees.

Her pussy was swollen and dripping, her round ass poking out, back arched. I ran my hands over her spine, down the crease where her cheeks met, and then I spread them wide, and buried my face in that sweet deliverance.

“Oh, God!” she cried out, her legs already trembling. She held onto the sheets like they were what was responsible for the torturing pleasure, ripping at them until one corner popped off the mattress, and then the other.

I ran my tongue around her clit, between her lips, diving inside her pussy before I repeated the cycle. She spread her legs wider to give me more access, moaning, writhing, her thighs quivering on either side of my face. And if I thought she was close then, when I ran my tongue all the way up, running it in a circle around her perfect little asshole, she shook so violently I had to use my hands to hold her up.

“Oh fuck, fuck, Logan,” she panted. “Yes.”

“Yes?” I asked, sucking her clit between my teeth once more before I ran the flat of my tongue up and over, hitting that sweet ass again.

She arched. “Please.”

With that plea still hanging on her lips, I lowered my lips back to her clit, keeping all my focus there while I pressed my index finger against her puckered asshole. She rolled her hips, gasping, moaning, and when I slipped that digit inside her, feeling her pulse so tightly around me I thought she might break my finger, she let out the most guttural, animalistic groan I’d ever heard in my life.

She came fucking my finger, fucking my mouth, her hips rolling and thrusting, ass bouncing. Every part of her wanted more, and I gave and gave until I was out of breath and she was limp and gasping for air.

It was the sweetest addiction, making that woman come. And I decided then and there that I wanted that pleasure for the rest of my damn life.

She seemed a little dazed as I withdrew, standing and helping her roll over and slide up the bed until her head was on the pillows. I carefully lay down on top of her, elbows propped on either side of her head, body nestling into the space between her legs.

“Who even are you,” she breathed on a laugh, pressing a hand to her forehead before she let it flop back into the pillows.

“I think I can help you remember my name,” I said, kissing her neck and rolling my hips against her. My hard shaft slipped between her legs, into the wet space, making both of us groan in sync.

Her lips were on mine in the next second, and she kissed me hard and possessive, claiming me, urging me into her with her heels digging into my ass. But I kept just enough space there, sliding against her wet folds without actually entering her, just to drive us both crazy a while longer.

I pulled back, balancing on my elbows again, watching her eyes flutter, her lips part each time I rolled. But when her eyes opened again and found mine, that hunger faded, and vulnerability seeped in, slow and sweet, her eyes flicking between mine as both of our movements slowed to a stop.

“What is it?” I asked.

She shook her head, and instead of answering me, she slid her hands into my hair, pulling me down until our foreheads met. She closed her eyes, and I closed mine, and for a moment, we were just there, breathing, existing. Her chest rose to meet mine on every inhale, and with every exhale of mine, I tried to answer whatever questions she had that she couldn’t even ask. I hoped she felt my sincerity, my assurance that whatever fear she had, I was there to fight it with her.

“Condom,” she murmured.

I nodded, rolling off her long enough to dig in the drawer beside her bed. The moment that latex was covering me, she rolled until I was sitting, back against her headboard, ass on her pillows, and she straddled me, sinking down on me without so much as a second to let me brace for contact.

And I needed to brace. I needed to prepare for that overwhelming sense of ownership I felt when she took me inside her. I wasn’t ready, and I had no choice but to give, to submit, to surrender everything. She was tight and hot around me, her legs pinning each side, arms surrounding my neck, forehead to mine. She kissed me softly, tenderly, sucking and biting at my lower lip with each lift of her hips. Every time she lowered back down, I groaned, louder and louder, my hands holding her hips to try to get her to slow down.

“I’m not going to last with you going like that.”

“I don’t want you to last,” she breathed, biting my lip so hard I knew she’d drawn blood. “I want you to come.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before I succumbed to her request. Hot lightning pulsed through me, and everything went blank. The only thing I felt, the only thing I could ever feel again was the point where we met, the emptying of me inside her, the sweet tightness of her throbbing out her second orgasm around my shaft. I pulled her close, wrapped my arms around her, flexed my hips into her harder, once, twice, again and again until every drop was spilled. Our bodies were slick and hot when we finally ebbed, our breathing shallow, lips numb where they met.