Take (Need #2)(47)

I reach up with my other hand and swipe away the tear with my thumb. For the briefest of seconds, she leans into my touch before pulling back and sitting up.

Both of us gasp as her * lands right on my cock. I can’t help but arch my hips, sliding it along her wet lips.

Fire fills her eyes, different from the rage, darkening them as she moves her body with mine. A shudder moves through her when the head of my cock slips across her clit. Placing her hands on my chest, she picks up her hips and reaches between us, gripping my dick and placing the tip at her entrance.

I’m entranced by the vision, waiting for her to sink down, watch it disappear inside her. When she moves, sitting down on me, taking my cock in her, my eyes roll back, lids fluttering. I don’t even get to see it due to the sheer intensity of my Kira’s wet warmth wrapping around me.

She draws in a trembling breath, nails digging into my skin. Hips up, then down a little. Up and then down again until she has all of my cock shoved up her cunt.

I stare down, watching as she sits back, resting her hands on my thighs, letting me see my cock stretching her f*cking tight *. There’s never been a more perfect sight, but when I look up and catch her gaze, it’s cold, even with the lust.

“I’ll f*ck you, use you, but I’ll never be yours.”

She sits forward again and raises her hips before dropping again. Up and down, riding me, taking from me.

I curl my fingers around her waist and squeeze, then trail up her sides until I reach her tits. Her nipples are already hard, and she lets out soft little moans as I lightly run my fingers over them. A loud gasp leaves her, eyes popping open when I pinch them and pull, flicking as I let them go.

I want to reply, but every thought I have gets blasted away each time I bottom out in her.

Her moans and squeals grow louder when I thrust up, pushing her down with one hand while the other continues to play with her tits.

She’s close, and so am I.

Sitting up, I tangle my hand in the hair at the base of her neck, drawing her close.

“Fuck me, use me all you want. It won’t change the fact that I f*cking love you, and I know you love me.” Her face scrunches up in the most erotic come face. I grab onto her ass, pushing and pulling her along my cock as I thrust up. My teeth are bared, scraping against the column of her neck as I fight off the urge to come, waiting for her. “I’m yours, and you. Are. Fucking. Mine!”

Her walls clamp down on me like a motherf*cking vice, her screams filling the room. A roar rips out of me, my arms clamped down on her, holding her tight as I empty in her.

Bare.

My boys released, searching for their target—one they won’t reach. Not yet, but one day, I kinda like the idea of them finding it, filling her body with the perfect combination of the two of us.

I fall back down to the bed, taking her with me, chests expanding as we gasp for breath.





I wake with a start. I’d been flying, then falling, crashing down to the earth. Now I’m shaken, confused. Where am I?

Something squeezes me, pulls me in. It takes a split second to gain my bearings.

A fraction to realize where I am—in Brayden’s bed, tangled up in his arms. His breath is soft against my neck.

And I remember I’m naked.

He’s naked.

We had sex more times than I can count on one hand.

It was . . . a million times better than my fantasies.

His hands, his body, his cock.

The electronic vibe that pulsed through me.

Being so close to him is misery—heaven and hell.

I need closer to him.

I need away from him.

With a deep breath, I maneuver my way out of his iron grip, trying my best not to wake him.

I need to get out of here unseen.

Slow and steady, I break away, sitting up. Looking behind me, I’m stunned by the sight of him, of Brayden. He’s more beautiful and perfect than one of Michelangelo’s statues.

A modern day David.

I have to get away from the spell he has on me. It always turns me into a stupid girl ruled by a childish fantasy of a bygone love.

My steps are soft, silent, and on the wobbly side as I make my way out of the room. I’m so weak I can barely stand, my legs no longer made of muscle and bone. Somehow I make it to the bathroom, once again keeping the noise down.

I try and remember how I got here and where exactly here is. It’s all a blur, lost in a lust-filled haze. I hadn’t even been drinking yet, but I was obviously drunk off Brayden.

We’re in his apartment, I know that much.

But how the hell am I getting out of here?

I sneak out of the bathroom and into the living area of his apartment. It’s a small one bedroom with a kitchen and living area. Not very big, but just right for one guy.

We started out on the couch, and I curse when my * clenches at just that small thought. Somewhere near that cursed couch, the one I helped him pick out, should be my belongings. I hope my phone still has some battery.

The room is a wreck, dashing my hopes I’ll find everything. Boxes of furniture everywhere, remnants of packaging, along with a lot of his stuff, including our clothing strewn everywhere. The search for my clothing results in nothing but a few rags.

Panties—lost.

Tutu—hides nothing.

Bra—torn.

Fuck.

I try to push the memories away of how they ended up this way, but the pulsing pain won’t let me. Every movement reminds me.