Page 206 of Broken Brothers

“Mmhmm,” Layla murmured.

Why am I even pretending like I have a shot at deflecting this? Fuck, there’s no way.

“You know that when, I mean if, we violate this second rule, you’re going to have to be punished very badly for breaking it,” I said.

Layla, though, caught my slip, and she spent the rest of the time just eying me with a look that begged me to get to the damn point.

“Uh huh,” she said.

“And that I can inflict punishment like no other.”

“Uh huh,” she said with a little more emphasis.

“And that—”

“Uh huh!”

I smirked.

“Fuck it,” I said. “Let’s pay the check and get the hell out of here. I feel bad for whoever our Uber driver is.”

Layla’s face turned so red, it was like she became a lobster.

I think I gave our Uber driver a twenty dollar tip for having to deal with our drunk, horny asses, because we all but fucked in his back seat.

We made out passionately and groped each other hard. The only reason I didn’t start to finger her was because I knew it was building up tension, and while I was clearly not going to hold on to the no sex rule, I at least wanted to maintain some standards of decency.

But once I had her in my elevator leading up to my apartment, I wasted no time sliding my fingers up her dress, pasther panties, and into her soaking wet pussy. She let out a loud gasp as her hands cradled my body, closing around me tightly for dear life. I kissed, sucked, and bit on her neck as she pulled me closer to her, muttering my name as my fingers worked to bring her closer to orgasm.

When the elevator doors opened, I forcefully grabbed her hand, practically dragging me to my apartment. I shut the door with my foot, not even bothering to lock it, as we stumbled toward my couch, both of our hands going for the other person’s junk. I found her pussy and slid two fingers in, which she rubbed and stroked my cock underneath my pants.

She tried to unzip them, but I was in charge. I was on top. I had promised Layla that I was going to control how tonight went, and I was determined to live up to that in every way possible.

I fingered her, my hands moving in and out of her, until I felt them clench and pulse around me. She howled and cried and begged for me to slow down, but like I said, I was now here to punish her for making me violate the rules. She wasn’t going to control how things would go; if she didn’t like it, too bad.I know she likes it, though. She likes being submissive to me.

She tried to sit up and reach for me, but instead, I just shoved her straight back to the couch, spreading her legs with my shoulders. She let out a gasp and was hyper sensitive just to a mere kiss, having already come once from my fingers.

It might have sounded a tad crazy, but I wanted to make her come from all three sources—my fingers, my tongue, and my cock. I wanted her to come in every imaginable way possible. I would have said from my cock in a variety of positions, but I knew what Layla was like in bed. There wasn’t much way I was going to last with me inside of her, especially if we went raw.

Which, come to think of it, I didn’t have a condom on me, so, raw it was. I could have gone to the bathroom, but, really, I was just looking for a reason not to have one.

That would come in a few minutes. For now, I had the task of making Layla’s pussy come a second time on my couch, her wetness spreading all over my lips and my jaw.

“Oh my fucking God, Chance!” Layla screamed. “How the fuck—”

I never did get to answer her. I couldn’t have even if I wanted to, because my lips were firmly wrapped around her folds. I wasn’t going to come up for any reason. Not to catch my breath, not to take a break, not to give her a break; it was all out from here.

But the real reason I didn’t get to answer was because she arched her hips and moaned so loudly that it nearly knocked me off of the couch. I kept my balance and position, but only because I had so much strength behind it; had I done training maybe one less day, it wouldn’t have been hard to imagine me falling off.

This was exactly what I wanted, though. I wanted Layla moaning my name, screaming, all but addicted to me. I wanted to be her drug; I wanted to be the thing she couldn’t get enough of. Maybe later, I’d consider if such an idea was healthy for what I really wanted, but there was no fucking way I was thinking clearly in the heat of the moment.

It took me about two minutes to get her to orgasm again. I knew her body too well and what she liked to have this require any sort of delay. The fact that she had waited a few weeks since sex and I’d been foreplaying with her all night only added to the ease of her second orgasm.

And yet even here, I was not done. I stood up, ripped my shirt off, and pulled Layla up to me as she tried again to remove my pants. She got me naked and started stroking me as hard andfast as she could, but I wasn’t about to let her get on her knees; that was too passive a position for me. I wanted to take control. I wanted to set the pace.

And so I spun her around and shoved her forward. She braced herself on the back of the couch, actually shoving it off the ground, but I grabbed her hips and slid perfectly into her, a sort of long-range shot that could not have been scripted. It was like I was meant to slide in with such ease.

My hands wrapped around her sides for leverage, I pulled myself in and pushed forward with my hips, shoving my cock as deep as it would go inside of her. Layla gasped, her voice so high and so breathy I could barely make sense of it.