Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #4)(49)

I glance over my shoulder to find Royce’s is closed, and then face forward.

Hers isn’t, at least not all the way.

My palm flattens on the wood, and I push, my breathing growing more labored as it slowly sways open, revealing darkness inside.

But I see her.

So she does sleep in the bed, but not under the covers...

Her hair somehow glows against the deep blue pillowcase.

I know she’s awake, I hear her swallow.

I step inside, coming to stand at the foot of her bed as she pushes into a seated position.

Long blonde hair spills along her shoulders, falling all around her.

I make my way to the left side of the bed, and her neck cranes to follow.

My knuckles come up, but I don’t have to guide her, her head lifts on its own.

The darkness complies with my unspoken need, granting me vision and allowing me a glimpse of her face.

Hope and horror.

Such a deadly combination on you, Beauty.

She slowly slides her legs over the edge of the bed, the smooth sound of satin brushing skin sending an unforgiving zing down my spine.

Her posture raises, body begging to be closer to mine.

She’s the reason Zoey took the medicine, the reason she calmed enough to fall asleep.

She shouldn’t know how to do any of that.

She shouldn’t know my daughter at all.

But she does.

She made those videos, gave my baby something I couldn’t.

Gave me something...

My knuckle stretches out, my hand sliding down so I can grip the hollow of her throat and she pushes against my palm.

My fingers twitch against her warmed skin and she shudders, her broken breath reaching my lips.

My shoulders curl a bit, bringing me in more, and her hand comes up to grip my wrist.

Her hold is tight, but she shakes.

My pulse beats heavy in my palm, or maybe it’s hers that I feel spiking, growing faster and faster, louder and fucking louder.

It’s all I hear, and it drives me closer.

Her spine straightens, torso stretching to erase more distance, and suddenly those baby doll lips are in reach.

I dare the tiniest of tastes.

Big fucking mistake.

My eyes close, my forehead tipping forward to meet hers as I fight a growl.

She shivers, hard.

Every fucking inch of her shakes before me.

In need.

In want.

In fear?

But not of what I’ll do, of what I might not...

I lean forward, bringing my bottom lip between hers, and then drag it down until hers is nestled in mine, and I bite, gentle but firm.

Her eyes close in pleasure and my cock is pleased, twitching and flexing inside my jeans.

She gasps, and it takes all I’ve got not to swallow it.

So I play her neck as I would her mouth, and crush my lips to the base of it, gliding along to the hollow of her throat.

Fuck if a heavy need doesn’t fly through my veins, sending zings through my fingertips and toes. A need that grows deeper when Victoria doesn’t only take what I give, but sighs on contact.

A deep heavy exhale that has her back arching high, driving her chest into mine, opening up her neck even more for me, and my tongue glides along. Tasting and taking and it’s not enough.

I don’t know if she lays back, or if I nudge her myself, but when my eyes open, she’s under me, my shirt’s on the floor, her heated hands are running up my sides.

So smooth, so foreign.

So fucking familiar, like my soul already knows hers.

The thought settles, digging deeper and I lower my body, holding myself up with my forearms as I bring my leg between hers.

I apply the littlest of pressure, desperate to feel, and angered when I do.

Her eyes roll closed as her excitement coats my kneecap and I slide against the wet spot of her underwear.

Her breathing grows heavy, and I bite the inside of my cheeks.

“You ruined everything,” I tell her, sliding my mouth to her ear, and down her neck in a torturously slow manner. I kiss her there, my fists tightening in the blanket as I pull back to look her in the eye. “And I hate you for it.”

Her chest rises and falls in quick spurts, each second dragging into the next as she stares, waiting. Knowing.

It’s even more infuriating.

Intoxicating.

Reckless.

I slide from the bed and she’s quick to fly up with me, her eyes widening in want when I grip her knee as I drop to mine. She lowers her chin, studying me through her long, dark lashes. With one quick tug, I’ve got her legs hanging over the bed.

She gasps, her head tipping back, exposing the skin of her neck, but I grip her chin and hide the tempting area. She leans in, but I yank away.

Her legs part, and all I can think is how perfectly I’d fit between them.

Fuck.

I growl, gripping her upper arms and her tongue slides along the backs of her teeth, drawing my attention to the devilish red determined to take me to Hell should I allow them, leading, forcing me near when all I want to do is fucking run and run fast.

She’s taking power without permission.

Proof is when my mouth reaches for hers, but I somehow freeze there, a lick away, my eyes snapping to hers.

“I don’t think so, sleeping beauty,” I whisper, and her legs open farther, sending a tremor down my spine. Fuck. “The lies on your lips burn too deep to meet mine. Keep them away.”