Taking Back His Bride

I groan as I look down to see my angel on her knees, legs curled under and a look of pure heat and desire on her face as she looks up into my eyes. Her hands tug at my belt, and tease down over my zipper as she cups my fat cock as it tents my pants.

“And now, baby,” she purrs, licking her lips as fire dances in her eyes.

“Now, it’s my turn.”

6

Leanna

My whole body tingles, my pulse thumping through my veins as I reach for him. My legs curl under me as I sit up on my knees, swallowing thickly as my hands slide to his body. My fingertips brush his abs, and at the touch of the smooth, hot skin and the rock-hard muscles under it, I tremble in anticipation.

There are a million things about Brooks that I love. A million things that draw me to him and always have. But these abs… holy fuck. These are the first things I ever noticed on him.

I was still in business school, trying to get through my last semester of grueling tests and accreditations. In spite of my father’s money, and since he and I were frequently at odds anyways, I had this tiny little apartment in the Outer Sunset area of San Francisco, and there was a new building going up next door. Brooks was on the construction crew, and from the very first time I looked up from my study desk and caught sight of the tanned, gorgeous, abs-like-a-fucking-super-hero guy pushing his hair out of his eyes, I was lost.

He had this surfer look to him, but at the same time, looked like he could’ve been living in a cabin in the woods hunting his own food or something. Wildly masculine, and rough in a way that had my body responding instantly. And very quickly, I forgot all about the annoyance of all the construction next door. And very quickly, making sure I was actually studying for my finals was something I really had to stay on top of, lest I fail out of business school due to spending all day ogling the hot construction guy next door.

And it all started with these grooved, perfect, practically photoshopped looking abs. I run my fingertips over them, my breath catching as I trace down the little trial of hair down to his belt. I still want explanations about the suit, and the freaking helicopter. But for now, all I want is what’s barely contained behind these thin, dark dress pants.

Brooks abs may have caught my attention. His charm and that smile, and that sharp mind behind the pretty face held that attention fast once we actually started talking when he finally asked me out for coffee one glorious day. But his cock?

…My God.

That sealed the deal. Signed, sealed, delivered, hook, line, and sinker. I’d felt the bulge a few times after heavy making out in his truck after our first and second dates. But that third time, with him pressing me against my refrigerator after I’d invited him up for “coffee” after our date, I felt more than a bulge. That time, when I’d slid my hands down into the waist of his jeans and his boxers and pushed lower, I’m actually frozen for a second in shock.

The bulge felt big. The real thing was enormous.

My hands couldn’t close around him. And when I had him naked in my bed that first time, I learned what it truly meant to be filled to the brim.

And now, after more than a year without, it’s mine again.

I pull at his belt, pushing his own hands away as I pluck at his zipper and tug it down. Brooks groans, abs tensing as I peel his dress pants down. The black boxer briefs beneath bulge and stretch obscenely over the thick, pulsing curve of his big dick, and I whimper in anticipation. My fingers slide over him, and when I feel that throb under them, my arousal drips down my thighs.

My fingertips slip under the waistband, and slowly, I start to tug them down.

“Leanna…”

His hands slide to my face, cupping my cheeks and trying to pull me up. But I shake my head, glancing up at him and smiling coyly as I lick my lips.

“Uh-uh,” I purr. “Now it’s my turn to taste.”

My mouth salivates at the thought of slipping my lips around him. And slowly, I peel those boxers down, my pulse roaring. His dark hair comes into view first, along with the deep grooves of his hip muscles pointing in a V-shape—like an arrow showing the way.

I pull the briefs down more, and when I get a glimpse of the root of his cock, I moan. God he’s so thick. I keep tugging, peeling them down, as inch after thick, throbbing, veined inch of his gorgeous cock come into view. The waistband hooks for a second, trapping his swollen head, and he groans in frustrated pleasure as his cock throbs and twitches, like it’s trying to break it’s way free. I give a final tug, and with a gasp from my lips and a grunt, his cock springs free.