Slamming Demon (Pounding Hearts 2)

Our first night together, completely alone.

I wanted it more than ever. Perhaps after this I would feel even more connected to him.

I leaned back and peered up at Brett’s face, shadowed in the dimness. His jaw was set as if he was preparing for a match but his eyes softened as he noticed me looking at him.

There were no words, no questions. Just anticipation and excitement. Brett shifted me in his arms as he reached the last step and I reached up, cupping his cheek in my hand. I could feel a slight scrape of scruff beneath my palm. Each day we were changing, maturing. Growing into ourselves. He was becoming more of a man, and I was about to become a woman in his arms.

I knew I could say no. I knew that with just the word, Brett would respect my wishes and not pressure me into it. But at that moment I wanted nothing more than to be with him and block out the rest of the world.

It felt like an eternity before we crossed the landing and reached his room.

“Did you clean?” I asked as he pushed open the door and carried me across the threshold. It smelled chemically sweet, like air freshener had been liberally used. The last time I had visited his house his room had smelled like dirty socks and sweaty gym shoes.

“I tidied up a bit for you,” he admitted.

I giggled nervously. Oh my god, this was really happening. “How sweet of you.”

He paused and shifted as if unsure. “Do you want the light on?”

No, the shy part of me cried out. But my lips said, “Yes.” I wanted to see everything, all of him at once. So far, despite all of our fooling around, we had only been able to see bits and pieces of each other.

He flipped a switch with his elbow and soft white light flooded the room.

Brett carried me quickly to his bed, and before I could get a good look around to see just how much he cleaned up, he lowered me gently. I think he meant to let go of me but I held fast and pulled him with me. He groaned and I wrapped my legs around his waist, meaning to never let go.

“Mandy,” he said tenderly just before I leaned up and pressed a kiss against his lips. My hands found the bottom of his shirt and I began to tug it up.

“Take it off,” I told him then kissed him some more.

Brett pulled back and I loosened my legs around his waist, for the moment letting him go. As he grabbed his shirt and yanked it over his head, I sat up and began to unbutton my blouse.

My fumbling fingers paused, and I sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of his naked chest, smooth and exposed. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen him with his shirt off, but it was obvious from then and now he was becoming stronger. The amount of dips, grooves, and definition of his muscles had, at the very least, doubled. I had the strongest urge to trace all the new lines with my tongue.

And I was edging closer to him, meaning to do just that, when he surprised me with a growl. “You’re too damn slow.”

While I was admiring all of Brett’s newly acquired muscles, he had been eagerly watching me, waiting for me to finish unbuttoning my blouse. He reached towards me and nudged my hands out of the way. Then he grabbed the sides of my shirt and ripped it open.

“Hey!” I cried out as the rest of the buttons popped off.

He groaned and his hands cupped my breasts. For a moment I forgot whatever it was I meant to say next as he squeezed me with his warm palms. I couldn’t remember until he began to tug impatiently at my lacy pink bra, but by then it no longer mattered. My blouse slid down my shoulders and I wiggled my arms until it slid completely off.

The way Brett was watching me, hungrily, as if he meant to eat me up, I felt empowered. I lowered my lashes coyly and reached behind me. My back arched and my breasts thrust forward as I unhooked my bra. In all our make out sessions, I don’t think Brett had ever seen me completely topless.

As my bra loosened and slipped down, he sucked in a sharp breath and something inside me clenched in response.

I blinked and Brett was pushing me back, burying his face between my breasts.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, Mandy,” he groaned, and I leaned back, thoroughly enjoying his admiration. Turning his face from side to side, his tongue licked and tasted as if he just couldn’t get enough, all the while he was making hungry little noises in his throat. His hands squeezed me, his calloused palms constricting me.

Then his slick lips completely covered my right nipple, sucking it hard into his hot mouth.

I arched off the bed with a moan.

He released that nipple and I gasped his name. “Brett.”

“Do you like it, baby?” he asked me, his eyes looking up as his head moved until his mouth hovered over m

y left nipple.