Sarah's Seduction (Men of August 2)

“Tell me you like it, Sarah. No lies, baby. I won’t let you lie to me about this.” He leaned over her, his lips within inches of hers as his eyes dared her to deny him. “Tell me you liked it.”

“Yes,” she gasped out, her hands clenching his forearms, her hips rising in desperate need as his still-hard cock kissed at her wet folds. “I liked it, Brock. I liked it. Please.”

“Please what?” He dragged his hips against hers, his erection lodging in the open lips dying to embrace it. “Please what, Sarah?”

“Please fuck me,” she begged harshly, fighting to take him, furious that he would edge away, denying her the feel of him inside her.

“Is that all you want, Sarah?” He pierced the tight slit, just as he had that night so long ago, only the head of his cock penetrating her. “How do you want it, baby? Slow and gentle—” He pushed into her, separating her grasping flesh inch by slow inch, then retreating with the same excruciating manner. “Or hard and fast?”

Sarah screamed. Her body arched, her muscles quivering as he thrust hard, burying the full length of his cock into her desperate, achy flesh. She couldn’t control it. She couldn’t stop the bone tightening, muscle ripping pleasure from destroying her. She climaxed, exploding harshly, screaming his name as he began to pump hard and fast, slamming his flesh almost brutally into her as she pulsed around him. She melted, her juices flowed, her vagina rippling around his flesh until his own cries joined hers, his semen flooding the tight channel as he gave one last hard lunge into her body, and came with a shout of male pleasure.

He collapsed over her, dragging air into his lungs as though he had been deprived of it for too long, then turned and rolled over as he dragged Sarah over him. Like a sweat sheened, human blanket she lay limp and exhausted, her head pillowed on his chest as she fought to catch her breath. She had never known such intensity, such soul-destroying pleasure. She felt possessed, taken over by a creature of need that had no care for humility, no shame in her desire. A woman on the verge of destruction.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Why don’t you want me to stay?” Brock asked the question long minutes after she asked him to leave for the night.

Sprawled on the couch, naked, his body behind her, holding her against his broad chest, Sarah sighed.

“I need to think,” she whispered. And she did.

She needed to accustom herself to the decision she had made. Not about his brothers, but with him. She couldn’t deny Brock, and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold out against what he needed. The only question was, could she ever forgive herself if she gave in.

She glanced back at her lover, the closed eyes, the thoughtful expression on his face as he considered her request.

“Do I get to come back?” She could hear his determination to never leave if she answered negatively.

Sarah took a deep breath, turning her eyes to the ceiling and studying it as though it held the answers to all her questions.

“Yes, in a day or two,” she whispered. “I can’t deny you anymore, Brock, but just you. I need time to think. I need to understand what I’m doing here.”

She felt his body tense, his arm move, his hand cupping her breast.

“You can’t decide this while I’m gone tomorrow?” he asked her softly. “I’ll leave in the morning, Sarah. Come back at night.” He wasn’t pleading, merely stating another alternative.

She shook her head.

“You’re asking a lot of me, Brock, is this so little to ask for?” She questioned him, keeping her voice quiet, reasonable.

A part of

her had calmed. As though Brock’s revelations earlier had stilled the agonizing thrust of betrayal that seared into her heart. She didn’t understand, but she needed to. She needed to think about it. She needed to be certain of this next step in her life. She needed to be certain she could handle the passion and the pain Brock would bring with him.

He sighed deeply. “I hate sleeping without you, Sarah,” he revealed with weary male patience.

She shook her head. Give a man sex he thinks is good and he’s a bigger baby than he was to begin with. Or at least more determined.

“You’re a big boy, Brock, you can handle it.” She smiled. “Just for a night or two.”

“One night,” he bargained. “That’s all I can handle, Sarah.”

She looked over at him as he opened his eyes, stretching, moving that large, muscular body until he was leaning over her, staring at her stubbornly.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “I’ll call you when I’m ready,” she told him firmly. “That’s my final word.”

“Then you better open your mouth and decide on another one,” he assured her softly. “I will not stay away from you for an undetermined amount of time. I won’t spend all this time getting past that prickly pride of yours again. Next time Sarah, I’ll just strip your damned clothes and take you. I won’t give you a choice.”

“You gave me a choice this time?” Mockery lay thick in her voice. “Why, Brock, I never noticed. Maybe your subtlety lacked something. I would work on that if I were you.”