FLIRT (Dirty Brothers 1)
I can barely breathe past the lump in my throat. My eyes ache with unshed tears.
“Prove it,” I tell him, my words as shaky as my entire body.
He kisses me hard, his fingers tangled in my hair, lips devouring mine. This kiss feels different. It feels like a pledge, a promise. It feels like the proof of his feelings for me.
His hand slips down between my legs. Fingers snake beneath the waistband of my panties, teasing my clit. He enters me with two fingers at first, and then squeezes in a third. It’s a tight fit, but it feels incredible.
He properly finger-fucks me until I’m whimpering, moaning into his mouth. God I missed this. The idea of losing sex with Thomas was almost terrible as the idea of losing him.
“I want you inside of me,” I say against his lips.
He leaves, disappearing into the hall. When he comes back, he’s holding a condom.
Once we are both completely naked, he lays me on the couch and takes a
ent to admire my body. “This is a view I could never get sick of,” he says, and rolls the condom onto his rigid cock.
I spread myself wide for him, draping one leg over the back of the couch and the other over his shoulder when he climbs on top of me.
I gasp when he enters me and close my eyes, marveling at the feeling of his smooth, even strokes as he lunges into me over and over again.
“God, I love you,” he whispers into my ear.
I don’t know why, but hearing those words right now is such a turn on. Knowing he feels the same way about me that I do about him changes everything. I’m no longer afraid of these feelings. I’m not longer worried about getting too close to him. I can be vulnerable without worry about repercussion. There’s something very freeing about that.
My body relaxes in a way that it hasn’t before. I didn’t think that sex with Thomas could get any better, but it does. His quick thrusts push me to the brink.
“I’m going to come,” I say, my voice more moan than speech. “Yes,” he says, and thrusts into me once more. He presses down on my clit and I explode in a shower of pleasurable sparks. I’m clinging to the couch for dear life, and I can’t move or breathe or speak. God it’s amazing. I wilt, the couch the only thing holding me upright.
We’re draped across each other, coming down from our high when I realize that this could be my life now. I can have this with him whenever I want. I can have this with him forever.
He’s just gained enough of his strength to lift himself off the couch when I tell him, “Let’s do it again.”
He laughs, and I’m not sure he’s up to the challenge with how exhausted he looks, but to my surprise he lifts me off the couch and holds me in his arms while carrying me to the bedroom. “Anything for you.”