Bad Boy Brody(33)

“God.” He breathed out right before he began moving.

I closed my eyes.

My head fell back.

He thrust in deep before pulling almost all the way out, only to slide back in.

He started a rhythm, but I was moving with him. I wrapped my legs around his hips, my ankles locking behind his back.

I wanted him to go faster and harder.

“Morgan,” he whispered my name, his hips thrusting into me. He dropped a kiss to my throat, his tongue tasting me there.

I wanted him to keep going.

I was riding with him, our bodies straining against each other. There was something so frenzied about our movements, primal.

Then he paused, a raw tenderness came over him, and he began to explore my body again with his lips. He kissed me everywhere, and I gasped, feeling my insides straining for him to keep going. I needed that release, but he chuckled, knowing the torment he was enacting on me.

“Brody!” I gasped, pushing against him.

His eyes were dancing. He lifted his head to look down to me. “Hmm?”

“You’re driving me mad.” I reached down, grasping his hips, and I began moving him. If he didn’t start again—I growled from frustration.

“What?”

He was laughing.

I smacked him on the chest, but then pushed so he was the one lying on the bank. I rose up, getting my feet under me for better position and lowered myself back onto him. He went in deep, and I stilled. His hand came up my back, holding me, and I half-leaned backward, letting him touch me.

I savored the feel of him in me and began to move.

I was in control and could push down as far as I wanted, which was all the way. When I did, his mouth dropped open and a low groan left him. He was embedded in me, all the way to his hilt, and I lifted up, only to go back down.

I went slowly at first, enjoying the rub of him, but then sped up, rolling my hips forward and backward.

I arched my back as I kept going.

God.

I loved this—the feel of him deep inside me, the pleasure rolling through me in waves as I kept going.

His hand covered one of my breasts, and he lifted so his mouth could catch first one of my nipples and then the other. He was tasting me as I kept riding him.

I started going harder, faster.

I was nearing my climax.

He grunted, his hands flexing into my hips as if he was going right with me. He was slamming me down to him almost ruthlessly.

“Fuck!” He growled, and I was flipped onto my back.

He didn’t wait for me to adjust again, he slammed into me, and this time, he didn’t stop or let up. He was almost rough as he pounded into me, but I wanted it. I was thriving on it. My entire body was awake and wanted him to keep going.

Then, as he held me still and kept driving hard into me, I almost screamed.

I hurtled over the edge, my whole body climaxed at once, and I went mad. I was trembling, shaking, quivering.

He paused, waiting until the wave lessened, and once he saw I was sated, he grinned lazily down at me. “You ready for me?”

I groaned and wrapped a hand around his neck. “I’m ready.”

And I held on as he pounded into me for his own pleasure. As he neared, he paused and then ground into me for a moment before he thrust again, his movements turning jerky as he swelled and climaxed. His body going taut right before he slumped over me.

Holy.

I ran a hand down his back, savoring the feel of him over me and in me.

This . . . this had been nothing like my drunken mistake.

I curved against his body, my lips against his neck as I smiled. He laughed, leaning into my kiss as he curled a hand around my waist and dragged me into the water.

We both went under, but the water was warm from the hot spring. He dislodged from me. I went to the surface first, and then his hands caught my waist. We played after that.

He dunked me.

I dunked him.

I was the better swimmer, so I could evade him if I wanted, but he had a better reach on me. He caught my ankle, pulled me back to him, and it wasn’t long before he was inside me again.





Morgan



It was close to dawn when I woke.

Brody was half on top of me, his head curled into my neck and his arm heavy around my waist. We’d fallen asleep like this, lying on the bank beside the water after I dug down, putting some heated coals beneath us and covering those with enough dirt to protect us. Grabbing some blankets from a hidden stash, we settled in.

It was cozy where we were, but I knew it’d be cold once I peeled back the blankets.

I looked at him, needing a fast way to get him back to safety.

I didn’t want to leave him, but I had to. I edged out, pulling on my clothes from the night before. They were damp with dew, but they would dry within an hour. Once I got my sandals on, I edged out from the hot spring. I started running down the path, and I whistled for Shiloh.

I kept going. She must’ve gone back to the herd, but I kept whistling for her. I’d been jogging for thirty minutes before I heard her behind me, and because it was like second nature for me, I weaved to the side. She came up beside me, and I reached up, pulling myself to her back. Once I was settled, she could sense my intensity. I clicked my heels in, and she took it as permission. She kicked up her speed until she was full bore going ahead. We skipped the wood trails, choosing to run alongside a cliff’s edge instead. There was enough clearing beside the rock where she could go comfortably, knowing there wouldn’t be a hidden log or hole in the path.