Take a Hint, Dani Brown (The Brown Sisters #2)(76)

She sank to her knees without conscious thought. Only need drove her now.

Mine, mine, mine.

“Danika,” he breathed, and cupped her face as she undid his belt. “Fuck. You’re going to ruin me.” But he made the prospect sound like heaven, like a gift.

She undid his zipper, shoved aside every barrier in her way until he was naked from the waist down, his cock hard and thick and dripping. Then he dragged his shirt off over his head, and the sight of him completely bare while she stayed fully clothed made her dizzy with want.

She wrapped a hand around his shaft, hot and velvety with that fine, thrumming vein along the underside. Then, since they’d somehow never done this before, she said, “Not to ruin the mood—”

“Literally impossible,” he choked out.

“—but don’t forget about my overenthusiastic gag reflex.”

His laughter was faint and cracked. “Never going to forget you coughing up noodles on my lap.”

“Oh, be quiet,” she muttered, her cheeks warm. Then she brought up a second fist to join the first, until just a few inches of his cock remained uncovered. She eased the fat, gleaming head into her mouth, squeezing with her hands as her tongue flicked out to taste him, and the noise Zaf made sounded inhuman.

That low, ragged growl zipped straight to her clit like a tiny electric shock. The taste of him, that salty musk, teased her tongue.

She sucked.

He hissed out a breath. “Holy shit, yeah. Sweetheart—” The word broke. She looked up to find him staring down at her, something endless and unnamable in his eyes. She could see his restraint in the pulse thrumming at the base of his throat, the rigid line of his hips as he tried not to thrust deeper—and God, God, she fucking loved it.

Dani released his cock with a pop, grabbed his arse with both hands, and felt more of that delicious control. Bent her head to lick and suck the weight of his balls, heard him turn the air blue, and felt pure, filthy power. The sparkling, sensitive something between her thighs grew more and more intense with every curse he spat out. When his shaft was slick and his voice was rough and frenzied, she palmed his cock again and stroked him hard, kissed and sucked his tip, and watched him lose it.

“Shit,” he gasped. “Shit, you’re so fucking—keep—” He reached down, grabbed the neckline of her dress, and pulled hard. She heard, or felt, a slight rip, and then the fabric loosened and her bra was exposed. “Sorry, sorry,” he panted, even as he pushed down her bra cup. Her breast spilled free and he squeezed the aching flesh, an unapologetic grope that felt dirty and presumptuous and absolutely delicious. Then his thumb swept over her stiff nipple and she moaned, her blood heating and her patience melting away.

She released his dick, tried to stand, and realized her knees were weak. Zaf picked her up a second later, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Perfect,” he told her. “You’re perfect.” It wasn’t the first time he’d said it. But this time, she was almost sure he meant it.

Then he kissed her hungrily, his teeth tugging at her bottom lip, and she felt him put her down on something cold and hard. A table, she realized, as he pulled away to find his wallet. He’d taken her into what must be the closest room—the kitchen—and put her on the table. Dani quite agreed with, and indeed approved of, his sense of urgency. Then he was back, rolling on a condom and pushing up her skirt, dragging off her thong and tugging her close.

He eased a finger into her wetness and she took him easily, found herself begging mindlessly for more. So he gave her another, and another, until she was finally full of him. Zafir, invading her body, stroking all the soft, shivering flesh inside her as he murmured against her mouth, “Want you so bad, Dan. Want you, just want you—”

“I know,” she panted. “I know.”

He groaned, and then his fingers left her, and she was lost for a second before he replaced them with his cock, splitting her open slow and steady. She rocked her hips, leaning back on her hands, spreading her thighs wider as the pressure turned her liquid from the inside out. “Yes. Oh my God, yes.”

“You’re mine,” he told her.

“I’m yours,” she said, and nothing had ever felt so good.



Zaf was losing control and he didn’t care, because Danika was right there with him. She sobbed his name as she took him deep, sinking her nails into his shoulders, vulnerable to him in a way she’d never been before, not once. When he looked her in the eyes, she didn’t flinch away. She met his gaze steadily, and dragged him closer, as if she wanted every fucking part of him and couldn’t even pretend otherwise.

Something inside him snapped, shifted, transformed, and all he could do was fuck her, fuck her, fuck her.

Zaf pounded into her with mindless hunger, her every breathless moan urging him on. He couldn’t stop touching her, couldn’t stop his hands from sliding over her thighs, stroking her spread sex, running up over her torso to her tits, her throat, her face. Her fucking face, mouth open, brow furrowed, those impossible eyes pinned to him.

“Say my name,” he grunted, like some kind of animal, and she said—

“Zafir,” like petals floating over water, and then she pressed her palm flat against his chest and he swore his heart felt the touch. “Mine,” she told him softly. “You’re mine, too, you know.”