Brogan (Carolina Reapers 9)

He read something in my eyes, then smirked and slid his free hand down to my ass. He smacked it hard enough to sting, and I moaned as I arched back against him. He smoothed the hurt, then pressed his chest flush against my spine.

“Remember that you begged for it, angel,” he growled in my ear, and I swear my entire body reacted to the promise in his words.

He leaned back, gripping my hip and my neck at the same time before…

He unleashed himself on me.

Filled me with sure strokes that had my body unraveling with every thrust. His hands were like fire against my skin, his cock hitting that spot deep inside me that only he could touch. He claimed me, owned me, and signed my pleasure with his fucking name across it. Everything inside me narrowed to the dominance in his pumps, his touches. Everything coiled and tightened around his expert moves, each touch, each thrust, each place our bodies connected designed to send me into fucking orbit.

“Brogan,” I moaned, unable to do anything but press against the slick wall as he used my body for both his pleasure and mine. My breasts pressed against the wall, the sensation only adding to the pulsing ache building inside me.

“Fuck,” he groaned, slamming into me again and again. “I can feel you’re there again.”

“Come with me,” I begged, my voice laced with the breathless determination of a woman starved. It didn’t matter that he’d just gotten me there. I wanted him with me this time, needed him with me.

I reached around and gripped his hip, digging my nails in and urging him harder, faster.

“Goddamn, Fiona,” he groaned and pistoned his hips just as he pressed his fingers over my clit.

I flew apart with a gasp, my body trembling as the throes of my orgasm shook me. Brogan released a growl, his own release following seconds later as mine still hit me in waves that turned me liquid.

He leaned his forehead between my shoulder blades as we caught our breath, the water still cascading over us.

“Some angel,” he teased, kissing along the length of my spine as he gently slid out of me.

I grinned, then spun to wrap my arms around his neck. “You’re definitely a demon,” I teased right back before capturing his mouth with mine. He hauled me against him, lifting me off my feet with one arm wrapped around my waist. He shut the water off, then backed us out of the shower. The cold air raised chills on my skin as he set me on my feet and grabbed a towel.

“We’re just getting started,” he said, dropping to his knees as he dried me off.

I shivered at the sight of him there and then lost my mind completely when he set his mouth on me.

I couldn’t stop smiling the next morning. Every time I walked, I felt Brogan, and I relished it, wore that delicious soreness like a brand.

Even Skye was having a happy morning, seeming utterly content as I rocked her in the glider, bottle poised and ready. She took it without a fuss, her blue eyes wide and wondrous as she looked up at me as if she was trying to figure out what I was so happy about too.

There were too many reasons to list why I was happy. With Brogan–it was more than just the sex. Even at the party…everything had been pure fun. He made even hard things—like leaving Skye for the first time—easy. Effortless.

“How’s my girl this morning?” Brogan asked as he rounded the corner, gear bag in hand.

“Wonderful,” I said, unable to keep the happiness from my tone. Not that I needed to, but from the way he paused to look down at me, hazel eyes wide and searching, I knew I sounded a little bit like a love-struck princess. “She’s taking her bottle without complaint,” I added in a more normal tone.

He grinned down at me, then Skye, and my heart melted all over again. Damn him and that smile he saved just for her, for us.

“I’ll see you tonight?” He asked.

“I’ll be here,” I said, returning my focus to Skye.

Brogan stepped closer, leaning down to kiss Skye on the forehead, and I stopped rocking so he could.

And then…

Then he kissed me.

Not a carnal kiss.

Not a claiming kiss.

A tender, sweet, goodbye kiss.

And it stole my breath as he winked at me and then hurried out the door.

Leaving me there rocking his baby—a baby I was wholly in love with—and staring after him, wondering when he’d stolen my heart too.

13

Brogan

Thanksgiving had always been a weird holiday to me. Hours—days, even—of prep work, all devoured within the span of minutes, or in the case of the Reapers, about forty-five minutes. Three giant tables ran from my dining room to the kitchen, seating the sixteen of us that had gathered. There was a shit ton of food. But given that it was one of the rare times we’d managed to score a home game, and won, this afternoon, tonight’s dinner was all the more sweet.