Reign of Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #3)(9)

“The fact that those are the words you chose tells me someone will try.” She grips my chin bringing my eyes back to hers. “Tell me what to do.”

“Give me all you’ve got, always,” I whisper, grinding against her and her head pushes into the pillow. “Think of me first. Come to me first. Come for me only. Can you do that?”

Her forehead tightens with concern, but she whispers, “Yes.”

I free myself from my boxers and push her thong aside, positioning the head of my dick right against her heated pussy. I push the tip in and her legs pull up, wrapping around me.

Her fingernails dig into my back as I fill her, and make slow, short pumps.

“Maddoc?”

“Hm?” I drop my head beside hers, my lips on her shoulder.

“What if it’s not enough?”

“What you give will never be enough, Raven. I’ll always want more.” I groan as she starts rolling her hips into me, begging me to do what she knows only I can. “Love me, baby, and we’ll be unstoppable together.”

A moan leaves her, and she pushes on my chest.

I let her roll me over and climb on top, but she doesn’t want it like this, she wants to feel all of me.

“Sit up,” she demands, keeping me inside her, but moving her legs behind me.

I do as my baby tells me and she slides even farther down my shaft, making my thighs clench. My hands fly to her ass, pushing her into me, squeezing, spreading.

Her head falls back and my mouth drops to her throat, moving when she whips her shirt off and tosses it somewhere behind her.

With her hands on my shoulders, she starts riding, the curve of her back pulling her ass in and out, in perfect forward motions.

I lean forward, sliding my teeth across her nipples and she whimpers, her pussy twitching against me, and I groan, my self-control snapping.

I keep her on me, but scoot so my feet are on the ground, sitting straight up on the bed.

She gives a husky laugh, lifting her head, as one hand slides up to cup the back of my neck.

“My man, never one to give up power for too long.”

I lift her little body, moving her how I want to, and her legs wrap behind me, her long black hair falling around her, chest to chest, mouth to mouth.

“You’re so fucking sexy, baby. So fucking beautiful.”

She gasps when I hit the spot she loves, her grip on me tightening, her lips pushing into mine.

She holds my eyes. “And so fucking yours,” she moans, her tongue slipping between my lips quickly.

I groan, sliding a hand between her ass cheeks, using my middle finger to apply pressure as I pull her closer.

That wasn’t a question, and yeah, it’s something I already know – she is mine – but to hear her say it just now, after the few fucking days we’ve had... I could come right now.

“And that.”

I speed up, and she pulls her legs back around so she’s on her knees. With my feet on the floor and her knees beside me, our fucking grows wild, hard, and fucking needy, both of us desperate to come while holding off, not ready to let go yet.

Hard, wet, slaps can be heard around the room, probably in the fucking hallway, but I don’t give a fuck.

Her moans grow louder, my groans grow deeper and finally her teeth sink into my bottom lip and she starts to shake against me.

I flip her onto her back, drag her pussy to the edge of the bed and slam into her, forcing the orgasm to hit harder and her legs fly to my sides, clamping tight, but I force them open again and her hand moves between her legs.

I let her rub herself, but only so I can watch while I come hard inside her. My grip on her thighs is likely leaving a nice little bruise, but she’d never complain.

She wants all of me like I demanded all of her.

She reaches for me when I finally stop twitching, so I pull out, climb back on the bed and tug her up to the pillows with me.

When our breathing slows, she starts tracing my tattoo.

I know she’s curious as to the reason I got it and the meaning behind the four tethered ropes, but she’ll have to ask. And she will.

I wrap my arms around her and she exhales.

After a few minutes, her hand stops moving, her breaths even out, and I know she’s fallen asleep, in my arms where she belongs.

That’s when it starts, the thoughts I shouldn’t have and would never give in to, the ones that make me sick to my stomach.

The ones my dad warned us about.

It would be so damn easy.

One call is all it would take... to destroy my brother’s world and save mine.

Guilt eats at my conscience, keeping me awake all night in the process.





“She is debased” the words of the doctor, who laid me out in Donley Graven’s limo, have been turning in my mind, over and over again since Rolland’s accidental revelation last night.

My mother was from here.

Shit, not just from here, she was Brayshaw.

Before Rolland talked with the boys, he hinted at something, and now it makes more sense. He’d said if I wanted to blame someone, to blame my mother for her inability to keep her legs closed until her wedding night. So, I can only assume she was once standing where I am.

‘Course, in true Ravina style she fucked something up along the way.

Did she know a Graven would eventually come asking me questions?