Don't Date Your Brother's Best Friend

“I want you,” I said, breathless from the tightening knot of arousal that seemed to leave me panting.

“I know. And we will. I’m going to have you, but I’ve waited too long for this to rush.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can handle this Luke,” I nearly begged.

“I’ve wanted you since high school, wanted to shut out the world and be together like this.”

“We did for a while,” I said, my voice high and shaky as his fingers trailed along my collarbone, sending pleasurable chills skating across my skin.

I caught my breath. He pushed up my shirt and unfastened my bra in one swift movement, and his mouth closed hot and wet over my nipple. I twisted against him, under him, wanting more of his weight on me, more of his strong thigh pressing between my legs in that needy spot that seemed to ache and throb now. He licked, swirling his tongue around the bud of my nipple as it grew harder, tight and stinging with pleasure. My breasts felt heavy, and he took them in his hands, plucking at one nipple teasingly as he sucked the other. He moved his questing mouth to the other breast, palming my wet, hard nipple as he set fire to the other with his velvety tongue. I kept gasping for breath and lifting my hips as pleasure crackled down my spine. He drew deep on my right nipple. I gave a groan that he ripped out of me with a spike of ecstasy.

His face, his square jaw, and the way his hair was rumpled by my greedy hands until it fell across his forehead—all of it hit me with a heavy impact. This was Luke. Not just a man I liked and cared about, not just a man I’d been flirting with and kissing. This was my first kiss, my first love, my first everything. Back in my life, real and warm to the touch and wanting me. I felt like a sob was going to be torn from me. I swallowed hard and drew his face up to mine for a kiss. I was shaken by how intimate it all felt, by how deeply personal it was to be in bed with him, half our clothes off and the lights bright overhead. He kissed me back, teasing and coaxing until thought was drowned in pure sensation. Shuddering under his lightest touch, I tugged his shirt off and reached for the button of his pants. He pulled me up to a sitting position, and we broke apart. I peeled off my shirt and bra, wriggled out of my jeans. I hesitated then left my panties on, the peach lacy ones that I’d bought on impulse last year. I felt a trickle of modesty, wanted to cover myself for an instant.

He dipped his head and kissed me with a soft nip to my lower lip. I knelt in front of him and put my arms around him, pulling him to me again. I couldn’t bear to have him apart from me, to suffer the cool rush of air against my heated skin when he wasn’t pressed against me and engulfing me. The hot, smooth skin of his muscled chest was alluring and perfect against my bare body. I wanted it, craved more of it. He had shrugged off his pants, stripped down to some black boxer briefs that were very intriguing. I could see the bulge of his arousal, making my mouth go dry with want. I touched him, gripping his erection through the cotton for the pleasure of feeling the length and weight in my palm. He was so thick, so aroused that my fingers didn’t meet when I encircled his shaft in my hand. I shivered with anticipation. That was going to feel so good inside me, just the way I hadn’t let myself remember. The fullness, the sweet stretch of my body as I arched to accommodate his size, the deep, sharp plunge as he entered me—I knew how it would feel, how I would feel being with him again.

“No one has ever touched me like you do,” he said hoarsely. I tightened my grip on his cock that was twitching with anticipation.

“Good,” I said, “because you’re mine. You always were, from the first minute I kissed you on that bus.”

“You’re not wrong,” he said, his voice going his as I stroked his length.

“It doesn’t matter who came in between.”

“Here we are again,” he said breathlessly, moving my hand away and crushing me in his arms. Nothing would please him more than bending my head back over his arm to kiss me senseless and having his tongue stroking in my mouth, bringing me such quivering sensations of pleasure as I was not sure what to do about. I groaned and whimpered, clutched his shoulders, his hair and face. My leg hooked around his hips in case he had any doubt of my intentions. I may have said please a few times. Then his hand slid over the curve of my ass, sweeping over the soft lace there, and pushed aside my panties to touch my sex. It was tender and eager for his fingers, the plump lips so coated with wetness from his kisses that I knew he had to feel that arousal, how wet he’d made me already. Luke stroked just inside my folds, making me shiver and mewl under his touch, restless for more. He kissed my neck again, behind my ear, and down the line of my throat. In an instant, he was reaching in the drawer beside the bed. He withdrew a foil packet and sheathed himself.