Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #4)(59)

Her gasp is a desperate, breathless, perfect fucking sound, one that she hides behind a pillow she scrambled for, hiding her face and noise from me.

She comes in my mouth again, reconfirming it’s a flavor I need more of.

Now.

Tomorrow.

Fuck.

I tear myself from her floor and move into her bathroom, closing it behind me as I flick on her shower. I don’t wait for it to heat but jump right inside, my back falling against the wall, cock already in my hands.

I start stroking, my chin dropping to my chest as I lick my lips, tasting her on me, recreating the feel of her lips around me as I squeeze and jerk and my muscles tense.

Fuck, Beauty.

My eyes pop open when a hand covers mine, halting my movement, and my dick throbs furiously in my palm.

Deep brown eyes, wide and fuckin’ wild with want stare into mine, never breaking contact as she drops to her knees in front of me, her shirt instantly soaked and stuck to her skin.

“I did this,” she practically fuckin’ purrs with a hint of anger as she runs the pads of her fingers along my hard-on. “Me.” She tugs on my wrist, tossing it to the side when I relent and let go. Her mouth closes around the tip and she flays me with a glare, sliding her teeth along it until I groan. “What comes next is mine, too.”

I think I’m yours...

My cock twitches and her eyes close as she slides forward, taking all of me, deep and full into her throat. She fucks me with her mouth, working hard for every ounce of cum I’m about to give her.

My toes curl and her hands plant firm on my hips as mine fly to the sides of her face.

I hold on, letting her keep her pace, and what a perfect fucking pace it is.

She pulls back, keeping only an inch past the head in her mouth and her tongue rolls around me.

I growl, my head tipping back as my muscles lock.

“Fuck, Beauty. Mm.” I jerk between her lips. “Goddamn.”

I give her what she’s worked for, coming inside her warm, silky mouth, but she doesn’t just sit there and take it.

Victoria fights for it, keeping her suction strong as she takes me in from head to base, her lips stretching along my skin so not an inch is left untouched, and begs for more, making sure she’s been given all of me before slowly drawing away.

My body shakes, the pads of my feet curling from the heated tile beneath it and balancing on the edges, muscles fucking worked.

My eyes move to hers, finding them closed, her features smooth and gratified, lips even plumper and wrapped tight around me, swollen from the work she’s put in.

I groan, twitching in her mouth, and a hint of a smile manages to cross her face.

I slam my eyes shut as she grows closer to the tip, savoring the last glide inside the smoothest silk. My cock pops free, and just as quick as she releases me, her talented tongue flicks along the head for a quick and final taste. It’s as if she can’t handle it, as if she’s already hungry for more.

Needs more.

Craves more.

Are you starved like me, baby?

My eyes peel open, and the scene’s almost too much.

Soaking wet and perched on her knees before me, staring at my cock with satisfaction.

A worshiper kneeling before her chosen king.

A rumble reverberates from deep within my chest and my breathing picks up again when she rises to her feet.

Her eyes make their way to mine, and my jaw flexes as I fall into the brazen brown, deeper and fucking deeper.

She leans forward, her lips dropping to my chest. She slides them across, moving up on her toes to better reach my shoulder.

Suddenly, and without my knowledge or permission, my pinkie is pushing back the dripping strands of hair that dare threaten to hide her from me.

I want to keep you.

Something flashes in her eyes, but mine lower to her lips when a gentle kiss meets my left pec, where the weight of my world lies, deep within a heart that’s torn.

It’s too tender, too meaningful.

Too fucking necessary.

A gentle brush of her lips shouldn’t calm me so easily.

Should it?

My eyes clamp closed, and I drop my head to the tile behind it.

She understands my internal struggle, doesn’t fight or push, but steps out.

When the shower door opens and closes, my eyes open.

It’s a clear, thick glass, fogged from the heated water and maybe from my own heavy pants. Regardless, it’s distorted my vision of her, only allowing me the sight of her neck and face, and she knows it.

With her back to me, she holds my gaze through the mirror as she kicks off her wet underwear, and tugs her solid shirt over her head.

It would be so easy to shove the door open, learn the depth of what she hides, force her to give me something real, but I don’t move. I stay beneath the spray until she’s back in her room, closing me off inside the bathroom.

I’m in no rush as I dry off, giving her the time she needs to dress, hoping she’s tucked away and hiding every inch of her when I enter so I can grab my shorts and go back to my room.

But as I toss the towel in the laundry basket that’s yet to be emptied, and wrap my palm around the door handle, I freeze.

My eyes fall to the floor only to jump right up as it clicks.

Holy shit.





Chapter 18





Captain



It’s a little over an hour later when Victoria finally creeps around the back door, through the billiard room toward the front foyer, and attempts to pass the kitchen only to freeze the second she realizes what awaits her.