On Dublin Street (On Dublin Street 1)

Braden worked out. Like really worked out.

The waist of his pants hung low showing off his flat stomach and the sexy v-cut of his muscles there. I bit my lip. I wanted to touch him. My eyes followed his six-pack up to a strong chest and broad-shoulders. And it was all nicely wrapped up in unblemished golden skin.

“Fuck, Jocelyn.” I looked up and found his gaze blazing even brighter than before. “If you keep looking at me like that, this is going to be over far sooner than I’d like.”

Hmm. I liked that. I liked that I had power over him. “Well, we can’t have that.” I grinned saucily, and reached around to undo my bra. The cold air hit my naked br**sts as I dropped the bra off the side of the bed and this time I was treated to Braden’s perusal.

His eyes drifted from my chest to my face and suddenly he looked a little angry. I stiffened in surprise. “Do you know what it’s been like for me since that day in the flat? Sitting across from you in bars, at dinner, knowing that underneath all the attitude is every man’s f**king fantasy.”

Oh, he was good.

His eyes narrowed as he reached for the buttons and zip on his suit pants. The zip slid down loudly. “I’m going to make you pay for making me wait to have you.”

The throbbing between the legs got worse. Sounds good.

I reached up and unwound my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders in all its glory, shivering as the need in Braden’s eyes sharpened. “Fine,” I agreed huskily.

I don’t know which one of us got our pants off faster after that, but one minute I was trying to take back some control with all my sexy attitude and hair. The next minute I was panty-less on my back, my br**sts pressed against Braden’s chest, my thighs spread open to accommodate him between my legs… and I was staring up into his eyes, breathless with anticipation.

“What are you waiting for?” I murmured.

His gave me a wry smile. “For you to back out.”

I huffed in annoyance. “I’m naked aren’t I?”

“So? You have been before.”

“Braden!” I hit his shoulder as he chuckled softly, and his laughter caused his lower body to move–that long, thick, delicious c**k of his sliding down over my belly and back up again.

I gasped at the pulse of pleasure the tease of the action caused and Braden groaned in answer, his lips falling on mine. I’m sure the kiss was meant to be slow, sexy, tormenting. It started out that way. But weeks of forestalling this moment had made us both a little impatient. The kiss grew aggressive, bruising, my hands gripping tight to his hair, his hands kneading my waist, my ribs, my br**sts. My br**sts were particularly sensitive, and when his thumb brushed my nipple, my hips jerked against him.

“You like that, babe,” he murmured, not really asking since the answer was obvious. His lips trailed kisses down my jaw and neck, my hands slipping out of his hair to his shoulders as he stopped at my right breast. He placed a soft, deliberate kiss to the rise of it and I swear I stopped breathing. Another kiss. Another.

“Braden…” I begged.

I felt him smile against my breast just before I felt the wet heat of his tongue against my nipple as his lips closed around it, drawing it in deep. A sharp lance of lust shot through my sex. “God, Braden!”

He did the same to the other breast and I found myself tilting my hips into his, more impatient it seemed than even he was. Then again, it had been longer for me.

“Babe,” his voice rumbled above me as his hand slid down to my hip, stilling me. “Are you wet for me yet, Jocelyn?”

Yes. God yes. “Braden…”

“Answer me.” I could feel his hand moving downwards; felt the graze of his fingers high on my inner thigh, teasing me. “Tell me you’re wet for me.”

When I thought about this afterward, I couldn’t believe I wasn’t embarrassed by his question, or his demand. Or how turned on I was giving into that demand. I’d never had a lover speak dirty to me during sex, but it was working for me. “I’m wet for you,” I whispered against his mouth.

Satisfied he kissed me, a deep, exploring kiss, and his tongue slid over mine as his fingers travelled an inch higher. I jerked at the first touch of them brushing against me. No one else’s fingers had been down there in a while. In response Braden’s kiss grew harder, his touch gentler. My lips broke from his in a moan as he slid his thumb into me, finding my clit and pressing down on it.

“Baby, you’re so f**king wet,” he groaned, his head falling to the bed beside mine, his lips on my neck as his thumb slid out of me, replacing it with two thick fingers that slipped slowly inside my channel. My knees fell open as I reached for more, my hands clinging to Braden’s naked back as I surged up for that ‘more’.

“More,” I pleaded.

And he gave me more, thrusting his fingers in and out of me. He rose up on his other arm to look down at my face as he worked me towards orgasm.

“Yes,” I sighed, feeling it coil and tighten.

And then his fingers were gone.

“What-”

“You’re not coming until I’m inside you,” he told me, his features harsh with need as he pinned my hands to the bed. “I want to feel you come around me.”

Well I wasn’t going to argue with that.

I held onto my sigh of pleasure at the feel of his throbbing c**k at my entrance. He rubbed against me, teasingly, and I wanted to grab his ass and force him inside. But he held tight to my wrists, grinning as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. As torture, he circled his hips, teasing me more.