No Quick Fix (Torus Intercession 1)

“Hey,” he said softly, and I heard the teasing in his voice, in the seductive chuckle, “I need to show you something.”

I allowed him to steer me out of the kitchen, grumbling as I walked. “He’s not gonna be their favorite, I can tell you that right now.”

Emery’s rumble of agreement didn’t help my mood.

“I’m the one who goes on all the field trips and stuff,” I told him.

“Yes, you are,” he conceded, pushing me into the master bedroom that I had to start thinking about as mine, and locking the door behind him.

“I’m the one who’s been here,” I declared, as he came around in front of me and sank to his knees. “I’m the fun one.”

“I know, baby,” he promised, staring up into my eyes as he rucked up my Henley and splayed his hand across my abdomen, then worked open my belt, the snap of my jeans, and finally the zipper. “You’re loads of fun.”

I gasped as he shucked my jeans and briefs to my knees and took my cock greedily down the back of his throat before letting it slide from between his lips so he could speak to me.

“Or should I say, your load will be fun.”

I groaned over the pun and he swallowed me back down and laughed around my dick, which made me jolt with the vibration of it, the ripple of sensation on my skin.

He sucked hard and voraciously, and I lost track of where I ended and he began, the movement perfect, his rhythm and the pressure all blending into an arc of arousal, rise and fall, until I pulled free of Emery’s sweet, sinful mouth and collapsed face-first onto the bed.

I was surprised when he rolled me to my back. I felt drunk, dazed, watching him climb over me, dragging his already lubed fingers over my shaft.

“What’re you—Em?”

His fingers disappeared behind him as he smiled at me, decadently, eyes hooded, and then his hand was back, stroking my cock, smearing it with lube before he lifted and pressed the head to his entrance.

“No, you don’t have—”

“But I want to,” he said, gravelly and low, his breath catching as he sank down over me just a fraction, both hands anchored on my chest, digging into my pectorals like claws. “You have no idea how much I need to.”

“Go slow, and—Em!” I cried out, not meaning to because Huck and the girls were still playing games in the family room, but the tight satin heat of him opening around me, stretching in tiny increments, was almost more than I could bear. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come before I even get inside.”

“Don’t you dare,” he warned me, and I was surprised at his face, at the ache I saw there, the need. He wasn’t in pain; there was no clenching, no hesitancy. He was working himself on the end of my cock, pushing, rutting, taking more and more, and when I reached out and took hold of his dripping cock, stroking him, tugging, his head fell back as he moaned out my name.

I filled him slowly, and he leaned forward to kiss me, bite me, lick my lips, lick into my mouth and suck on my tongue. I took firm hold of his hips and arched up inside of him, fucking him from the bottom, thrusting gently until he shoved down onto me, seated fully, impaled on my shaft.

His muscles clamped around me, and the grin he gave me, wicked and wanting, sent a flush of heat prickling over my skin.

“You were all power earlier, completely in charge, and you fucked me hard both times, showing me who was in control.”

“Yes,” he agreed, riding my cock, lifting up only to grind back down, his fingers pinching my nipples, painfully but good, before he curled forward to take my mouth, a whine escaping his throat at the same instant, betraying his absolute hunger for me.

There was no way I could wait a second longer, I had to have him.

Showing him my strength, I wrestled him off me and manhandled him down onto the bed, shoving his face down and lifting his ass in the air. I didn’t ask permission, I drove to his core, burying myself inside of him in one heaving thrust.

They would have heard him in the living room if he hadn’t screamed my name into the pillow. His hands scrabbled in the blankets as he shuddered hard, turning his head so I could hear the garbled sob. “Don’t stop,” he begged me, his words choppy, halting, each one torn from his chest, punctuated with a sharp gasp. “Please. Brann… Brann….”

I fucked him hard, my hand on his shoulder, holding tight, shoving inside to an endless litany of filthy pleading.

“Grab your cock and make yourself come,” I growled into the back of his neck, my lips there, my breath, and it was enough, because he clenched around me so tightly, lost in the throes of his own body as his climax roiled through him, loud enough that I had to slip my hand over his mouth to muffle the howl.