Skin to Skin

Page 41

His brows drew together. “No, sunshine. I don’t. Do you?”
I shook my head. “No. I really don’t. I probably should…”
“We’ve been through this, Chloe. It’s okay for us to be happy. And we are happy. Right?”
I nodded this time, giving him a half-smile that he returned as he ran his thumb over my lips before he leaned up and brushed his lips over mine.
“You ready for bed?” he asked me when he pulled back, winking.
I rolled off him and stood, tapping my foot pseudo-impatiently. He chuckled and got to his feet, swatting my ass as he walked by me towards the bedroom, turning off lights as he went.
I ran after him, jumping up on his back and wrapping my arms and legs around him. He caught me effortlessly, carrying me into the room before turning and tossing me backwards on the bed. I scrambled up to lean against the headboard, wagging my finger at him when he put a knee on the bed.
He stopped, giving me a quizzical look.
“Strip.”
One dark eyebrow rose, but he didn’t say anything. He moved back and turned to my iPod where it was sitting on the shelf. He grabbed it up and docked it, thumbing through my playlists until he found something he liked and hit play. Immediately the strains of Bump & Grind by R. Kelly filled the air.
I grinned as he spun around to face me again, thrusting his hips forward suggestively and swaying from side to side with the beat of the music. I expected him to balk, or to turn it into a joke, but holy sex-on-a-stick, the man had moves and he wasn’t playing.
He moved his hands up and grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt, sliding it up his delicious abs, pulling it up over his head and tossing it at me on the bed. He ran his hands down over his chest and stomach, reaching for the snap of his jeans, the ridge of him clearly visible as it stretched the unforgiving denim.
The button popped free and he lowered the zipper slowly while he arched and rolled his hips, dipping and thrusting, making all of those lovely muscles of his dance under his golden skin, the swirls and angles of his tattoos creating a mesmerizing tableau in front of me. With his zipper finally opened, he reached in and carefully adjusted himself. Lust hit deep, curling in my belly at the sight of the long, thick, rock hard shaft framed in the vee of denim.
“No underwear? You bad, bad boy…” I purred, not taking my eyes off of him.
He hooked his thumbs in his waistband and began to really move as he slid his jeans down sinfully slow, baring inch after inch of his delectable skin. He kicked his jeans off, leaving his whole body bare to my gaze. Heady tendrils of desire prickled over my skin at the hungry, predatory look in his eyes.
I crooked my finger at him, urging him closer. He came toward me, still moving to the beat of the music. He put a knee up on the bed and arched a brow at me again. I beckoned him once more, but he only moved a tiny bit further onto the bed.
“Damnit, Brandon!” I cried. “Get your ass over here!”
He grinned and moved fully onto the bed, stretching out beside me without touching. I reached my hand out to skim it over his chest but stopped when he shifted away.
“Ah-ah-ah,” he said, teasingly. “Your turn.”
I blinked at him. He blinked back. I shook my head no, telling him wordlessly that I wasn’t giving him a strip tease. He nodded yes and a smile bloomed on his succulent lips. I smiled back and shook my head no again, which only made him shrug and tuck his hands behind his head, crossing his legs at the ankle.
I scowled at him. If my blood wasn’t already heated by his strip tease, I may have been able to withstand the sight of his body laid out before me; might have let the impasse go on. But I couldn’t. My fingers itched to explore every inch of his velvet-covered hardness, my lips yearned to kiss all the hot spots I knew he possessed. More than that, my core was flooded with desire, aching with an emptiness that was begging to be filled.
Still scowling, I slumped off the edge of the bed with a sigh, turning my back to Brandon. Just then, the music changed and Gimme That Nutt by Easy E started blaring. I stopped and look back over my shoulder at Brandon, giving him a wry grin. He was laughing, his shoulders shaking with mirth, and then started singing along with the raunchy words.
I felt my cheeks flush, more from embarrassment that now he knew I had that song (and many other older, not-fit-for-young-ears-songs) on my iPod than anything, and hurried over to change it. When Ride by SoMo started, I turned back to see him still lying prone on the mattress, grin still locked firmly in place. Figuring the time to play was over, I tossed my clothes off in a hurry and climbed back onto the bed beside him.
“Hey, no fair!” he cried, starting to sit up. “You didn’t dance for me.”
I shoved him back down and leaned over him, aiming my lips for his. Just before they met in a searing kiss, I muttered, “Get over it.”
He did. My questing kiss turned fevered and dark. Our teeth, lips, and tongues clashed, pressing, biting, licking at each other’s mouths, both of us moaning at the sensations. Deepening the kiss even more, I moved, covering his body with mine, drawing a ragged cry from my lips when my skin met his.
I straddled his hips, my chest pressed to his, my wet heat sliding against the perfect length of him, coating his hardness with the evidence of my desire. His hands came up, one wrapping itself in my hair and giving a sharp tug, baring my throat to his teeth, the other sliding down to clutch at my hip, holding me still as he thrust against me.
Unable to bear the ache in my loins any longer, I slid forward, arched up, and impaled myself on his jutting length. A hiss sounded from his lips, then he groaned, his hand abandoning my hair to use both to clench on my hips almost bruisingly, as I started riding him wildly, the fast, pounding rhythm leaving us both breathless.
I sat up, taking him that much deeper inside, and arched my back, my hands finding purchase on his thighs behind me. I rested my weight on my knees and braced myself on my hands, using my hips to pump up and down on his shaft, swiveling my hips as I did.
“Jesus, that’s good,” Brandon panted, arching his hips up to meet my downward thrusts.
One of his hands left my hip, sliding over to splay on my lower stomach, his thumb finding my clit unerringly. He pressed hard on the nub and, like he’d pushed a detonator button, I went off, coming hard around him. I could feel my inner muscles contracting, pulsing around the swollen, heavy length pressing against every silken inch of my core, milking him uncontrollably as I bucked and screamed out my explosive release.
“Yeah baby, that’s it…come on me, sunshine,” he growled, rubbing my clit in shallow circles, faster and faster. The sensations built, layer upon layer, so quickly I couldn’t catch my breath before I went over the edge again. This time, though, his fingers left my sensitive nub and gripped my hip once more. He rode out the spasms of my body, thrusting up into my body with barely controlled, almost violent thrusts. Each heavy slap of his skin against mine, the soft sucking noises of his body slipping in and out of mine, all worked together to create a sweet cacophony of pure, white hot pleasure that blended perfectly with the rough grunts torn from Brandon’s throat as he pounded into me.
Finally, with one last, forceful thrust upward, he buried himself deep, pulling me roughly down onto him so that I was fully and completely impaled as he groaned out his release. The hardness of him swelled impossibly larger as he spurted deep inside me, each forceful jet of his seed flooding me with warmth. I ground against him, wringing every last drop from him and riding out the last lingering vestiges of my own orgasm, my body shuddering on top of his.