She exploded a second time, and I slowed down a little, letting her catch her breath before I made her do it all the fuck over again. After a minute, she glanced down at where we were joined and her face registered shock when she realized I was still hard.
“I can’t,” she whined.
“You will,” I grunted. “Or you’ll earn yourself a spanking so your ass and your pussy will both remind you who owns you tomorrow.”
“But ... I—” I didn’t let her finish, just brought my hand down onto her left ass cheek, the sound ringing in the air. She was already so sensitive, she immediately screamed, her back arching, her pussy strangling me.
“Fuck, kitten. That was so hot,” I muttered, picking up speed. I spanked her other side and she crested up to the peak, almost ready to come again. Pulling out, I slapped her pussy, and then thrust back in as she tumbled into an orgasm. “Yes! Come on my cock, babe. You feel so fucking good.”
I lost it then, driving into her with abandon, only coherent enough to make sure her cries indicated she was coming with me. “One more, kitten. Come with me this time.” Her head began thrashing around in denial. “You’re going to come again, kitten!” I barked. “Fuck yes! That’s right, kitten. Get your cream all over my cock.”
Her writhing, her hands on my biceps, her nails biting into my skin, the chant of my name falling from her lips. It sent me into a tailspin, and I slammed into her three more times before we both reached heaven together. I came so hard I was seeing stars and my come filled her up, so much I could feel it seeping from her pussy.
Finally, replete, I fell to my back, rolling her over with me so she lay on top while I remained inside her. Still fucking hard. Her breath evened out and she fell asleep, practically passed out on my chest. I shifted her to lie more comfortably and felt the liquid dripping down my cock.
Fuck! I’d forgotten a condom. I sighed, this was sure to be a fight.
Chapter 8
Carly
Waking up with Brandon wrapped around me was something that could quickly become an addiction. Even with my body aching in places I hadn’t known could be sore, I felt better than I had in, well, forever. Lifting up on an elbow, I shifted so I could check to see if he was still sleeping. The sight of his peaceful face, softened in sleep, made me sigh faintly. He was so damn gorgeous, I wanted to lay there staring at him for hours. Unfortunately, my bladder had other plans, forcing me to slide out from his hold and creep from the bed. Movement intensified my aches, so I grabbed my purse on my way to the bathroom and shut the door softly behind me.
Plopping down onto the toilet, I dug through my bag in search of some ibuprofen. When my fingers touched my burner phone, I realized it had been longer than usual since I’d powered it up to check for messages from Tommy. I turned it back on while I opened the bottle of pills that had been buried underneath it. Setting both items on the counter, I dropped my purse to the floor so I could wipe. It was a damn good thing I didn’t still have the phone in my hand because it would have ended up in the toilet bowl when I realized I had dried come on my inner thighs.
“Fuck!” I hissed, wracking my brain to come up with a memory of Brandon using a condom the night before. It was futile, though, because the proof was right there on my legs, plain as day—he hadn’t wrapped up his monster cock before shoving it inside me.
“Fuckity fuck fuck fuck,” I chanted, grabbing the phone to pull up the calendar app to count back days to my last period. I repeated the action three times without the result changing before my head dropped in my hands.
“Thirteen,” I sighed. “Of course it had to be thirteen.”
Smack dab in the middle of my cycle, right when I was most likely to get pregnant. Awesome. And the ringing of my cell phone was even more awesome.
“Shit, fuck, damn,” I muttered, stabbing my finger on the green button before the sound woke Brandon up. I wasn’t exactly ready to face him yet.
“Where the fuck are you, Carly?”
Oh, great. Tommy already sounded pissed the hell off at me. This conversation was going to go so well—not.
“At Brandon DeLuca’s apartment.”
“You’re gonna have to repeat that for me because I must have heard you wrong. You couldn’t have possibly said what I think you did because that would mean not only did you come back to town after I told you your da is out for your blood, but that you decided it would be a good idea to leave your safety in the hands of a guy you motherfucking shot!”
“I’m pretty sure he’s forgiven me for that since he’s talking about us getting married.” I figured the ‘and might have already knocked me up’ part was better left unsaid.
“Fuck, Carly. You’ve got to be kidding me. How the hell did you let yourself get mixed up with Brandon DeLuca, of all people? The man’s a stone-cold killer.”
“The same could be said about you, Tommy,” I reminded him gently. I hated to do it, but as much as I loved my friend, I wasn’t about to let him judge Brandon by his reputation alone.
“But we both know I’d never hurt you.”
“Neither would Brandon.”
Shit! I’d been so focused on my conversation that I hadn’t heard Brandon enter the bathroom. I only realized he was there when he yanked the phone from my hand.
“Who the fuck is this?” he growled into it.
Oh shit. Brandon was going to hate the answer to his question. This was bad. No, correction, it was more like national catastrophe level on a scale of amazing to horrible.
“Thomas McKinnon? How convenient. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
Yup, I’d called it right because Brandon looked like he was a nuclear explosion in the making. His voice was deceptively soft because his dark eyes were narrowed and lit with fury. His cheeks were flushed red, and his lips were pursed. The way his muscles were coiled tight made it seem as though he was ready to jump through the phone to attack Tommy. And considering the bomb I’d just dropped on my childhood friend, I figured he’d have a fight on his hands if he did.
Brandon stalked out of the room, taking the phone with him. I cleaned up as quickly as I could and followed after him. Snagging the shirt he’d worn the day before, I pulled it over my head and padded into the kitchen, where I found him making coffee and snarling at Tommy over the phone.
“I don’t give a flying fuck who you’ve been to her in the past, or how helpful your information is when it comes to finding Pat. Carly is mine now. I don’t know you, don’t trust you. There isn’t a chance in hell I’m gonna let some guy I don’t trust anywhere near my woman.”
I rushed forward and tried to tug the phone from his hands, determined to stop this conversation in its tracks. Brandon wasn’t having any of it, though. He shackled both of my hands in one of his own and held me in place while he continued to talk to Tommy.
“Yeah, if your tip results in his capture, I might consider letting you see her.”
I huffed up at him, narrowing my eyes. Brandon just shook his head and smiled at me like I was being cute or something.
“Don’t bother using this number again. You need something, you call me.” He rattled off his number and disconnected the call without saying goodbye. Hopefully, Tommy had gotten all the digits right because Brandon dropped my phone on the ground, grabbed a pot from the rack above the kitchen island, and smashed it.