I've thought about him far too much for my own good. Even at the doctor's office, every time the doctor touched my ankle, Bran popped into my head. When I'm at work, I see him in every man that comes in, and hear his voice in every phone call.
I'm obsessed.
I'm not sure if it's a good thing or not, but if I didn't see him soon, I was going to lose my damn mind.
So here I am, with his prick in my mouth and the flutter in my gut I longed to feel again. I've never felt this way about anyone else. I know my brother wants me to stay away from him, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him.
This is for me.
I don't think Ryder can even start to understand how this man is different from all the rest. He literally saved my life. He kept me safe and warm all through the night, and he did it because he wanted to.
Sucking with more force, I slurp my way back to the edge of his crown. Holding his dick, I glide my hand down at the same time as my mouth, squeezing firmly. Bran groans loudly, his knees almost buckling as he throws out his hand and palms the wall.
“Mm, fuck, Mel,” he utters under his breath as he opens his legs wider and leans forward. “I'm going to come.”
Just knowing he's about to blow his load makes me drip and my mouth work faster. He keeps going deeper into my mouth, and when I think I have all of him, he gives a thrust of his hips, filling my throat even more.
His dick throbs as he lifts up on his toes and yanks my hair. Hot jizz shoots down my throat, warm and smooth. Bran takes a step back, pulling his cock free from my mouth. Swallowing all of him, I lick my fingers.
“You taste so fucking good,” I say, slipping my finger into my mouth and sucking it clean. His tip shines with a small drop of jizz, so I quickly lap it up, not wasting a single drop.
His eyes darken, lids hooding as he growls through clenched teeth. In one swoop, he lifts me off my feet and carries me to his bedroom.
His cabin is a wide open space. His kitchen has its own nook on the back wall, and there's a couch creating a small divide in the center of the room. There's a spiral staircase that leads to a loft, where I can see his bed and dresser.
I can't help but notice all the easels and paint, canvases and modeling clay. There's a long table to the side of the front window, and a chair set up at one of the easels. Wood chips and saw dust create a layer of natural carpet, and there are paintings and sculptures hanging all over the walls.
As he carries me up the stairs, I can't take my eyes off his face. I love his face. He's handsome and rugged, his hands creased with dirt, fingers tough with callouses and soft from fresh blisters.
Dropping me onto his mattress, he falls to his knees and climbs between my legs. Pulling my legs up over his shoulders, he starts to work my pants down.
“Now it's my turn,” he says, his voice husky and full of need.
“But I didn't save you,” I answer, softly running my fingertips through his hair. I don't fight him off, I let him remove my clothes with no resistance.
I'm so fucking turned on there's no way I could stop him even if the little angle on my shoulder told me I should. I'd flick her away and tell her to come back later.
Bran lowers his face to my center still hidden behind my panties and inhales a deep breath. “You smell so fucking good,” he says, blowing cool air across the lace. “You're so fucking wet.” His finger traces the wet spot on my panties, pushing in against my heat. “I want to taste you.”
Biting my bottom lip, my stomach starts to tremble as he peels my panties down and drops them to the floor. His eyes settle between my legs as he licks his lips. Bran stays like that for what seems like forever. Admiring my pussy, teasing me with tender strokes and gentle touches.
The anticipation is killing me. Driving my hand into his hair, I try to push his face between my legs, but he doesn't let me. Grabbing my wrist, he tugs my hand free and holds it against my belly.
With desperation, I wriggle my hips and lift my ass off the bed, just trying to reach his lips. I need him to lick me, to taste me, to drink me in until I come so hard I can't feel my legs.
Bran smirks, using his other hand to press me back down and hold me in place. He's enjoying this moment. The control, the playfulness between us, it's a dangerous game. And I love it.