Take a Hint, Dani Brown (The Brown Sisters #2)(58)

“Gosh,” she blurted, blinking hard. “That’s . . . your . . . penis.”

“Yep.” He looked down at himself, frowning a little. “Er . . . this isn’t your first one, is it?”

“No,” Dani squeaked. She was simply experiencing a moment of mild alarm because . . . well. She didn’t think she’d ever wanted anyone quite this much.

Of course you have. You must have. These were just sex chemicals, dopamine and other traitorous substances making her feel oddly attached in the heat of the moment. God only knew what would happen when he put his dick in her. Maybe she’d lose her mind.

And maybe none of that mattered, because Zaf lay over her then, and the skin-to-skin contact felt like sinking into a warm bath after a long day, and Dani quite lost her train of thought.

He traced the line of her jaw and whispered, “You still with me, sweetheart?”

“Al—” She broke off just in time, her voice caught in her throat.

Always. That’s what she’d been about to say. Always. The word sat in front of her, too bright and awful to look at, like a ray of sunshine through the blinds at 6 A.M. What in God’s name was that? Had she fallen asleep in front of a Hallmark film recently and absorbed its bullshit into her subconscious? Dani swallowed hard, bit her lip, and remembered she was sex-drunk. Yes. Chemicals, et cetera. Zaf’s tongue was basically a drug. She’d been over this.

He watched her with a furrow between his thick eyebrows that she suddenly wanted to kiss. “Dan?”

Don’t panic. Everything is fine. But she needed to change the subject, both internally and externally. Which, in this case, meant licking her palm and reaching between their bodies to grasp his cock.

He choked out a moan and his hips jerked. He was so smooth, so hot, so hard. Addictive. She swept her thumb over the fat, swollen head and watched his eyes snap shut. “Danika,” he said, the word ragged. “Fuck. That’s good.”

That’s good. She liked that, coming from his mouth. Liked putting that agonized look on his face, liked the way his control dissolved. This was what she wanted from him. This was all she wanted.

“Tell me what else is good,” she murmured, and stroked him, slow and deliberate, drinking down the way his muscles tightened.

“Yeah,” he grunted when she twisted her wrist. “Yeah. Harder.”

She squeezed, he growled. Before she knew it, he was kissing her, hot and aggressive, his teeth tugging at her lower lip. She kept stroking him, and the faster she jerked his dick, the more he fell apart. Soon he was making hoarse, breathless sounds, catching her wrist with one strong hand, begging her, “No more. Don’t make me come before I get inside you.”

She pouted and ran her thumb lightly along that fine, raised vein.

“Ungh. Fucking hell, Danika.”

“What? I stopped.” She tapped his arse, about to tell him to get up so she could search for condoms. Then she realized his arse was incredible and, firmly distracted, grabbed a good handful. “Mmm. I like this.”

“I like yours. Get up and show me.”

“You’re so bossy.”

“Only works because you like it.”

She gasped in mock outrage and pushed him off her. But she also arched her back for him as she bent over the bedside table. Zaf, both wonderful and predictable, palmed her arse immediately. He cupped one heavy cheek, squeezed, then slid his hand sideways until his thumb glided through her wet folds. She finally found a condom just as he pushed inside her, forcing a breathy little moan from her lungs. “Zafir.”

“Yeah?” His thumb massaged a spot that sent raw pleasure surging through her blood. She must have made some unholy sound—though she couldn’t be sure, since she lost a little awareness for a moment—because he laughed softly and said, “Ah. There.”

“God, you sound so smug.”

“You have no idea.” He eased out of her pussy—which was tragic in the short term, but good in the long term since the current goal was to get his cock in there—and caught her hip, tugging her back onto the bed. “Condom?”

“Here.”

But Zaf didn’t accept the little square of foil; instead, he cradled her jaw in his hand, his thumb tracing Dani’s own wetness over her lips. She slid out her tongue to taste, and the next thing she knew she was sucking the digit deep.

Zaf moaned. “You look fucking good with your mouth full, Danika.”

She released him with a pop. “If you think that’s good, you should see how I look on your dick.”

He laughed, the sound low and strained. “I’d like to.”

And yet, she had the oddest feeling he was stretching this out—touching her here or there, playing her like an instrument while trying not to come, as if he didn’t want any excuse for this to end.

Or maybe she was projecting. Because, although her pulse pounded more, more, more and her pussy grew softer and wetter, just for him, she didn’t exactly want this to end, either.

Calm down. You have almost a month to shag him senseless. That’s more than enough.

It is. It is. It’s more than enough.

She pushed him onto his back and straddled his thighs, ripping open the condom and rolling it on as he hissed out a breath. Tension rippled through his body at her touch, muscles flexing before her eyes, skin flushing with heat, and it was all so . . . so intensely Zaf, and so perfect because of it.