Craving The Player (Amateurs In Love Book 1)(77)

I love him.

But I have to leave him.

"Braden," I whimper, sliding the dress shirt down his shoulders and gripping onto the muscles resting there in an attempt to ground myself before I fly away. Something warm and wet slides down my cheek, and I swipe it away quickly, hoping he didn’t notice. I refuse to cry right now. This might be the last time . . . no. Don’t think about it.

With a throaty groan, he grips me tighter and thrusts his hips, burying himself so deep I cry out. My head falls back and I close my eyes, blinking back the blinding pain that ricochets through my chest.

Braden’s hands slide through my hair, gripping it tightly like he always does when he uses it to move me how he wants me. Closer, farther, it's his choice. Just how he likes it. I don’t put up a fight, too utterly weightless.

"Tell me that I'm the only one that gets to fuck this pussy," he orders, thrusting into me relentlessly while shoving my dress down my shoulders and rolling my left nipple between his calloused fingertips.

"You're the only one.” A sob tears up my throat when I feel the familiar pull in my stomach. Lifting my hips, I take back some control and begin to ride him. I try to memorize how it feels to be filled with him, the smooth, thick size of him pulsing as he gets closer and closer to his release. My nipples drag against his bare chest as I arch my back and place my palms on his thighs, using him to increase our pace.

His large hands cup my face and I’m right there, shaking in his lap like a leaf in the wind as tears scorn my cheeks, falling to his chest. Those amber eyes fill with something broken, something too heavy to carry as his thumbs begin to catch my tears, wiping them away frantically as he says my name like a curse.

He drives inside of me hard one last time before stilling, my walls continuing to pulse around him, the last of my orgasm draining what little energy I had left. “You’re mine, Sierra. All mine.”

I nod over and over again and collapse against him, seconds before his arms wrap around me, holding me to him like he’s scared I’ll open the car door and run. But I can’t. Not right now.





Chapter Thirty-One





Sierra





“You're absolutely ridiculous,” I squeal, attempting to hide my smile in Braden’s shoulder as he carries me bridal style down the hallway to his apartment.

There was no way that he was about to let me out of his sight after what happened in the car—which thankfully, he hasn’t mentioned since—so I wasn’t surprised when he insisted that I stay the night with him. There wasn’t any way that I was going to say no either.

This is exactly where I want to be.

“I think you mean absolutely jaw droppingly handsome, sweetheart,” he mumbles, kissing my head. Keeping me held firmly in his arms, he manages to use his key to unlock the door before pushing it open with his foot.

Loud voices erupt through the doorway, and I lift my head in search of the culprit, hoping that we didn’t walk in on something that’s going to be burned in my memory for the rest of my life. But when I find Clay lying outstretched on the couch, feet hanging off the edge, a box of half-eaten pizza on the coffee table, and a horror movie playing on the T.V screen, I laugh.

“Why aren’t you gone?” Braden asks gruffly, his voice barely rising over the volume of the movie.

Clayton shoots up and reaches for the remote, turning the sound down a few notches before resting eyes on the two of us.

“Well if it isn’t the two lovebirds. Finally home, are we?” He drags his attention to the clock above the T.V. “It’s two in the morning, in case you forgot how to read a clock.”

“And?” Braden shoots. His eyes drop to mine, sending me a warning before my feet are placed on the floor. “I didn’t know that I had a curfew, Dad.”

After pulling my dress further down my legs to avoid giving Clay a view of my goodies, I cross my arms and pin him with a look. “At least we were out doing something. What’s your excuse?”

“Plans changed. Figured I would save my liver for the night and watch a movie.”

“Smart.” Braden snorts. When he laces his fingers with mine, I look up and see him already staring down at me with soft, muted eyes. “You tired yet?”

My mind screams yes but I shut it up, shaking my head instead. “I can stay awake for a while longer.”

With as little as a nod in my direction, he pulls me behind him to the living room. And when Clayton makes no move to share the couch, Braden sits down in front of it, his back leaning against it. Grinning, I watch him pat his lap and hold his arms out in front of him. I settle on his thighs without hesitation.

He bends forward and presses his mouth to my ear. “Keep your hands to yourself, yeah? We have company.”

A shiver racks through me at the thought of trying anything while Clayton sits only a few feet away. Braden’s hands wrap around my waist and pull me as far against his chest as possible.

“I will if you will.”

“Best behaviour, baby. Scouts honour.” He pats my sides.

Clayton turns the volume back up, cutting our conversation short as we turn our attention to the young woman screaming for help on the screen. I attempt to ignore the consistent flutter in my chest with every soft stroke of Braden’s thumb against my side, but fail miserably. His body heat wraps around me tighter than his arms do, and I find my eyes starting to droop as his heart beats quickly against my back.