Don't Date Your Brother's Best Friend

Then he slid down my body, his mouth hot and wet on my belly and my hips. He hooked his thumbs into the sides of my lacy panties and drew them down slowly. Centimeter by centimeter, he slid the lace away and kissed and licked the skin he had revealed there. The tip of his tongue dragged close to my mound, my inner muscles pulsing with need. I tried not to squirm, allowed myself to stroke his hair. My fingers sifted through that silky, sandy blond hair as he dipped his mouth lower and yet lower. I couldn’t suppress a shiver at the sensation. When he put his mouth to me, I went rigid. I’d never felt anything so intense in my life. I cried out, a high-pitched sound as pleasure shot through me. His thumb pressed and rubbed at the tender bud above where his mouth worked. In three or four passes of his thumb over my clit, exquisite curls of pleasure slid up my body, making me tremble and cry his name as I came. I felt him smile as he kissed the inside of my thigh and lifted his face.

“So soon?” he teased.

He crept up my body, leaving kisses here and there, igniting an answering shiver wherever he kissed. My body clenched at the memory of that sharp, rolling pleasure he’d just given me. When he reached my lips, he kissed me softly, “You taste so damn good. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that to you.”

He pressed his mouth to mine, and the taste of my own arousal on his tongue was hotter than I could have imagined it would be. I arched under him, wanting to feel him deep inside me and losing patience.

I tore my mouth away from his and spoke three halting words. “Now Luke. Please.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed as he pulled me against him, face-to-face. He trailed his big, work-roughened hand down the curve of my side and hip, gripped my thigh and drew it across his hip, spreading me open for him. I caught my breath when I felt the blunt tip of his cock nudge against my opening. Fresh moisture seeped from me, easing his way. My head flung back even as my hands gripped his arms. Luke entered me with a single thrust. I arched closer, hiked my leg higher over his hip to take more of him. A few shallow breaths as my body shifted, stretched to take him in. Ah, it was so good, so gratifying to possess him this way, to feel him feed his cock into me inch by inch as I strained to take it, as I wanted all of it.

“Oh, God, Luke,” I gasped.

He cupped my head, leaned his forehead against mine. He made me meet his eyes. His teeth were clenched, his jaw tight. His eyes were so bright and intense. That gaze swept right to my soul. Breathless, I held fast to him, unable to break eye contact. He held himself so still, that control costing him greatly. I saw the tension in every line of his face, the sweat along his hairline, felt the coiled strength in his muscular arms. He canted his hips, gave me a short, controlled thrust. I caught my breath again. I tried to hold back the whimper, but he heard it, seemed to feel it. He pressed his lips to mine, giving me soft kisses, soothing me.

“I have you,” he said, “Am I hurting you?” his gorgeous eyes were clouded with worry. I shook my head.

“N—no. It’s—it’s so good,” I stammered, so overwhelmed by the way he filled me, the deep pressure of his cock impaling me, that I had trouble speaking or even thinking of words. “Please,” I whispered, my gaze locked with his.

Our arms were around each other, legs tangled, my thigh thrown over his hip as Luke thrust into me. My chest and stomach were against his, rubbing together hot and smooth. His mouth moved to my neck, then his lips were back on mine. I caught my breath every time he thrust, each time giving me a little bit more. Every time I thought I had taken all of him in, there was more. He was going so deliberately, so carefully to avoid hurting me. He kissed the corner of my mouth tenderly and rolled me onto my back. He held himself up on his arms, his hands stroking my hair and face, looking down into my eyes. I blinked hard to fight back tears.

This was what I remembered most, when I let myself think of those precious stolen days we were together as teenagers. Luke above me, his forehead against mine, the strength and tenderness of his touch, the earnest, intimate way he looked in my eyes when he moved inside of me. The feeling of completion, of being fitted together with someone. The soul-deep knowledge that we belonged to each other. His face looking down at me, the downward tug at the corner of his mouth as he tried to concentrate on holding back, the worried curl of his lip as he withdrew from my body and thrust back inside. The way he breathed out as I inhaled like a cycle, a balance, the way we moved together that even merged the energy of our breath.