Page 81 of Held-
I lean down to capture her mouth again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her. My hand cups her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple. I trail kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, taking my time as if we have all the hours in the world.
When I take her nipple into my mouth, her fingers tangle in my hair, holding me to her. The soft sounds she makes drive me wild, each gasp and sigh like music. I move to her other breast, giving it the same attention while my hand slides down her stomach to the waistband of her jeans. Her hips lift slightly, an invitation I can't resist.
I unbutton her jeans, dragging the zipper down slowly. She's trembling beneath me, but not from fear. I know that tremor, recognize it from every time I touch her—it's anticipation, desire, need.
“Lift up,” I murmur against her skin, and she raises her hips so I can slide her jeans down her legs. I follow the denim with my mouth, pressing kisses to her thigh, her knee, her calf as each inch of skin is revealed. By the time I toss her jeans aside, she's breathing hard, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that matches my own pounding heart.
I look up at her from between her legs, taking in the sight of her. Her hair is spread across my pillow, her lips swollen from my kisses, her eyes dark with want. She's never looked more beautiful than she does right now, vulnerable and strong all at once.
I press a kiss to her inner thigh. Then I move higher, trailing my lips along the sensitive skin until I reach the edge. I press my lips to her heated skin, brushing against the cotton covering her center. She whimpers, hips rising to meet my mouth. I can smell her arousal, feel the dampness seeping through the thin fabric. My cock strains against my jeans, begging for attention, but this isn't about me right now. This is about her—about making her feel good, about reclaiming what's mine, about erasing any trace of him from her body and mind.
I hook my fingers in the waistband of her panties, dragging them slowly down her legs until she's completely bare before me. Her thighs tremble as I push them apart, exposing her to my hungry gaze.
“Brayden,” she whispers, a note of vulnerability in her voice that makes my chest ache. “I need you.”
I press a kiss to her inner thigh, then higher, until I'm breathing hot against her core. “You have me, princess. All of me.”
When I finally taste her, she arches off the bed with a gasp that turns into a moan. I take my time, savoring her like she's the last meal I'll ever have. My tongue traces slow circles around her clit, teasing but never quite giving her what she needs. Her fingers clutch at the sheets, at my hair, at anything she can reach as I work her into a frenzy.
“Please,” she begs. “I need more.”
I slide one finger inside her, groaning at how wet she is for me. She's already soaked, her body responding to my touch in a way that makes my dick throb painfully against my jeans. I add a second finger, curling them to hit that spot inside her that makes her cry out my name.
“That's it,” I encourage. “Let me hear you, princess.”
I work her with my fingers while my tongue circles her clit, building her up slowly. Her thighs begin to tremble, herbreathing coming in short, desperate gasps. I can feel her getting close, her walls tightening around my fingers.
“Brayden,” she moans. “I'm going to?—”
“Not yet,” I growl against her flesh, pulling back just enough to deny her release. “Not until I'm inside you.”
She whimpers in frustration, her face flushed as she looks down at me. The sight of her—desperate, on the edge—nearly makes me lose what little control I have left. I rise to my knees, unbuckling my belt with hands that aren't quite steady. She watches every movement, her breathing quickening as I unzip my jeans and push them down along with my boxers.
My cock springs free, already hard enough to hurt. She reaches for me, but I catch her wrists gently, mindful of the marks there.
“Let me,” I say, positioning myself between her thighs. I line myself up against her entrance, the head of my cock sliding through her wetness. She gasps, her hips lifting toward me, seeking more.
“Look at me,” I demand, needing to see her when I enter her.
She obeys, her gaze locking with mine as I push forward slowly, inch by agonizing inch. The heat of her surrounds me, so tight and perfect I grit my teeth to keep from losing control. Her mouth falls open in a silent gasp as I fill her completely.
“Fuck,” I groan, stilling once I'm buried to the hilt. “You feel so good, princess.”
Her hands come up to grip my shoulders, nails digging into my skin. “Please move,” she whispers, voice strained. “I need you to move.”
I pull back slowly before thrusting forward again, searching her features for any sign of discomfort. There's only pleasure there, her expression hungry but vulnerable as she holds my stare. I set a rhythm that's deep but measured, each stroke deliberate, wanting to make this last.
“You're mine. Say it, Cece. Tell me you're mine.”
Her eyes lock with mine. “I'm yours,” she gasps, her body shivering violently beneath me. “Only yours.”
The words hit me with brutal force, stopping my breath. Something fierce and overwhelming surges through me, rising so fast it steals my control. I slam into her harder, possessed by a savage need to brand her from the inside out, to obliterate any memory of him that might still linger in her body's memory.
“That's it,” I snarl, my voice barely human as I watch her face contort with pleasure. “Take. All. Of. Me.” Each word punctuated with a punishing thrust.
Her legs vise around my waist, nails raking bloody trails down my back. I wrench her hips up with one hand, the new angle making her scream as I hammer against that spot that makes her clench like a fist around me. The pressure of her squeezing my cock is excruciating, magnificent. My vision blurs at the edges.
“Brayden,” she chokes out, her voice breaking. “I can't—I'm going to?—”