Brant's Return - Page 28

With my name on her lips said that way, something inside me slipped, tumbled, spiraled downward. Falling.

She gripped my hair in her fists, as I moved my finger in and out to the rhythm of my tongue on her clit and after only a moment, she cried out, jerking against my mouth. I slowed as her orgasm shuddered through her, her inner muscles gripping my finger tightly, then releasing as if her heart were beating between her legs.

I kissed her inner thigh and then crawled up her body. When I reached her face, her expression was full of so much joyful awe, I blinked. She laughed, the sound so full of happiness that I leaned in and kissed her, smiling against her laughing mouth. She gripped my face in her hands and kissed me and whispered, “More,” against my mouth, pressing her hips upward into my swollen cock. I broke from her mouth, hissing out a breath. I had just meant to bring her pleasure, hadn’t meant to take my own. But she was asking me for this, and I was lost. There suddenly didn’t seem to be one good reason why we shouldn’t enjoy every part of each other on this rainy night. It was only the two of us finding comfort, finding joy where there was still joy to be found.

I pulled my own underwear off inexpertly, as if I’d never undressed myself before, my movements jerky and awkward, and chuckled softly at myself. Belle smiled, too, and then reached between us, taking my hardened flesh in her hand and sliding up slowly, then down. I groaned, my head falling against her shoulder as I worked to control my breath, my heartbeat pounding wildly with the arousal coursing through my body.

I’d never had the chance to use this empty building as a horny teenager, but I imagined this was what it would have been like. I was a grown man and yet with this woman, somehow I’d reverted back to an inexperienced boy so turned on he was practically coming apart at the seams.

Belle didn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, there was a joy emanating from her I’d never experienced during sex. With her, there was nothing feigned, no artifice, only an innocent candor that was both beautiful and arousing. It allowed me to let myself go in a way I didn’t know if I’d done for a long, long time, if ever.

Belle guided me to her opening, and I kissed her as I entered her body, groaning at the tight clasp of her, the way she squeezed me from the inside, her legs wrapped around my hips. For a moment I just breathed, willing myself not to come the moment I started moving. She felt so fucking good.

I thought I said her name, but I couldn’t be sure it made its way past my lips. Then I started moving, slowly at first as she gasped, tilting her hips so I could go deeper. “Oh God,” I grunted. “Belle, sweetheart, you feel amazing.” I thrust faster, our skin warm and slightly damp, not with rain, not anymore, but with the exertions of our bodies.

I brought my hand between where we were joined, finding her swollen bundle of nerves and rubbing it gently. She ran her hands up and down my straining biceps, her breath coming out in small pants. She came again a second before my own orgasm hit me with the force of a freight train, stars bursting before my eyes as complete bliss ran through me in waves, our mingled moans of pleasure echoing through the room.

In a pleasure fog, I found her mouth, kissing her as I came down. She was smiling and it caused my heart to gallop faster in my chest. I broke from her lips, surprised at the joy I felt. “What’s so funny?” I whispered, teasing.

She laughed as I pulled out of her, her laugh turning into a small, disagreeable sound.

I grinned, falling onto my back and reaching for her, bringing her with me. She lay half on top of me, running her fingers lazily over my chest. “I didn’t know it could be like that,” she said dreamily.

“Like what?” I asked softly, yet in truth, I didn’t either. At least . . . not anymore. That was the unbridled sex of youth, of two people who had nothing to prove and nothing to lose. Tomorrow that wouldn’t be us . . . No, it couldn’t be. We had two very separate lives, intertwining for such a short window of time. It was just this night, these circumstances, and the all-encompassing need for a release after the emotions of the day.

“Like . . . that place you took me to in the woods.” She tilted her head back, and God, she was stunning. That smile. That . . . exhilaration. “Like magic.”

I ran my fingers up the silky smooth skin of her arm, learning her, even as something inside warned me it wasn’t particularly wise. I’d remember later, wouldn’t I? Lying alone in my bed in New York? The feel of her body beneath my own, the sweet taste of her most intimate skin, the way pleasure made her laugh with joy, the memory of all those things fading, but not enough.

But I’d never lost sleep over a woman. Frankly, I was too damn busy. And so I’d lose myself in my work as I always did and sooner rather than later, this night with Belle would be a sweet, sweet memory but nothing more.

“What are you thinking so hard about up there?” she asked, running a finger around my nipple, tickling me. I laughed, grabbing her hand and holding it in my own over my heart. “I’m thinking I’m glad you called me last week.”

I felt her smile against my skin. “Has it only been a week?”

“Hard to believe, right? That life can change so quickly.”

“No. Not for me. Not anymore.”

I bent my head and kissed her forehead. Of course, who knew better than Belle that your whole world could change from one day to the next?

“How long will you stay?” she asked softly.

I paused for a moment. “I can’t stay much longer. A couple of days.”

“And will you . . . be back? I mean before—”

“I don’t think so, Belle.”

For a moment she was quiet, and then she nodded, laying her cheek against my chest. “You haven’t made up with your father.”

I sighed, lifting a lock of her hair, rubbing it between my fingers. “I don’t know if that’s possible. But, I think we came to a truce of sorts. Maybe it’s too late to hug and make up, but we spoke for the first time in many years, and that counts for something.”

She was quiet for a moment. “It does.”

I continued playing idly with her hair and after a moment her breathing changed, becoming deep and even. For a few minutes I lay in the quiet, listening to the snap of the dying fire, thinking about what we’d talked about—how quickly life could change. Wishing I could hold on to this—her—for a little bit longer, and knowing there just wasn’t a way.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tags: Mia Sheridan Romance
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