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Story: here
“So you weren’t checking me out in Econ?” His teeth graze my skin.
“I was not.” We both know it’s a lie if my super needy voice is any indication. “You were always too busy flirting with that blonde in the front row to notice anything.”
His bare chest rumbles with laughter. “Jealous, cupcake?”
I was. God, I was. Every time she’d lean forward, twirling her hair around her finger, laughing at his jokes. Every time he’d flash that dimpled smile at her. But I’m not about to admit that.
“You wish,” I say instead.
“Maybe I do.” He strokes my jawline with his thumb, his gaze steady and unyielding. “Maybe I wish you’d wanted me then as much as I wanted you.”
The words knock the air from my lungs, and I can’t blame it on the dress anymore. I stare at him, searching his face for any sign of teasing, but find none.
“I was jealous,” I whisper.
A wicked glint appears in his eyes. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Shut up and take me.”
And he does.
His mouth crashes into mine, his tongue sweeping inside to claim me. I moan into the kiss, my fingers threading through his hair to pull him closer. He groans, low in his throat, the sound vibrating through me.
His hands are everywhere, skimming over my silk-covered curves, igniting fires beneath my skin. He finds the zipper of my dress and tugs, the fabric loosening and freeing my shoulders first.
“Brandon,” I gasp as his lips trail down my neck, his teeth nipping at my collarbone.
“I’ve got you.” His hands drag the dress down my body until it pools at my feet. “I’ve always got you.”
I step out of the puddle of silk, kicking it aside. My skin is flushed and tingling under his heated gaze as I stand before him in nothing but my black lace underwear.
“Fuck, Naomi.” His voice is reverent, awed. “You’re beautiful.”
I’ve never felt beautiful, not really. Not with the guilt and self-loathing that’s always churned in my gut. But I feel it now. Beautiful. Cherished. Worshipped.
Loved.
His hands skim up my sides, cupping my breasts through the lace. “Every single inch.”
My breath hitches as his thumbs brush over my nipples, my body silently begging for more.
“I’m going to take you apart piece by piece until you’re trembling and begging for release. And then, when you think you can’t take any more…” He pinches my nipple, the sensation shooting directly into my core. “That’s when the real fun begins.”
He pushes me back on the bed, the cool silk sheets a stark contrast to the heat of his body and lips on mine as he settles over me. His weight is comforting, grounding.
I slide my hands under his shirt, his muscles tensing and flexing beneath my touch as I push the fabric up his torso. He breaks away long enough to yank the shirt over his head, tossing it aside.
I’ve seen him shirtless before, but this is different. This time, I can touch, trace the lines of his abs with my fingers, and feel the way his breath hitches when I scrape my nails lightly down his chest.
“Like what you see?” His mouth curves into that devastating smirk.
I pull him in. “Shut up.”
He chuckles against my lips, his hands unclasping my bra, leaving nothing between us but air and pure want. I gasp as his lips close around my nipple, his tongue flicking against the sensitive peak, while his hands trail down my stomach, fingers hooking into the waistband of my underwear.
He looks up at me, waiting for permission, and I lift my hips in response.
His touch is electric as he rids me of the lace down my legs. I tremble, exposed and vulnerable, but Brandon’s eyes hold nothing but reverence.
“I was not.” We both know it’s a lie if my super needy voice is any indication. “You were always too busy flirting with that blonde in the front row to notice anything.”
His bare chest rumbles with laughter. “Jealous, cupcake?”
I was. God, I was. Every time she’d lean forward, twirling her hair around her finger, laughing at his jokes. Every time he’d flash that dimpled smile at her. But I’m not about to admit that.
“You wish,” I say instead.
“Maybe I do.” He strokes my jawline with his thumb, his gaze steady and unyielding. “Maybe I wish you’d wanted me then as much as I wanted you.”
The words knock the air from my lungs, and I can’t blame it on the dress anymore. I stare at him, searching his face for any sign of teasing, but find none.
“I was jealous,” I whisper.
A wicked glint appears in his eyes. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Shut up and take me.”
And he does.
His mouth crashes into mine, his tongue sweeping inside to claim me. I moan into the kiss, my fingers threading through his hair to pull him closer. He groans, low in his throat, the sound vibrating through me.
His hands are everywhere, skimming over my silk-covered curves, igniting fires beneath my skin. He finds the zipper of my dress and tugs, the fabric loosening and freeing my shoulders first.
“Brandon,” I gasp as his lips trail down my neck, his teeth nipping at my collarbone.
“I’ve got you.” His hands drag the dress down my body until it pools at my feet. “I’ve always got you.”
I step out of the puddle of silk, kicking it aside. My skin is flushed and tingling under his heated gaze as I stand before him in nothing but my black lace underwear.
“Fuck, Naomi.” His voice is reverent, awed. “You’re beautiful.”
I’ve never felt beautiful, not really. Not with the guilt and self-loathing that’s always churned in my gut. But I feel it now. Beautiful. Cherished. Worshipped.
Loved.
His hands skim up my sides, cupping my breasts through the lace. “Every single inch.”
My breath hitches as his thumbs brush over my nipples, my body silently begging for more.
“I’m going to take you apart piece by piece until you’re trembling and begging for release. And then, when you think you can’t take any more…” He pinches my nipple, the sensation shooting directly into my core. “That’s when the real fun begins.”
He pushes me back on the bed, the cool silk sheets a stark contrast to the heat of his body and lips on mine as he settles over me. His weight is comforting, grounding.
I slide my hands under his shirt, his muscles tensing and flexing beneath my touch as I push the fabric up his torso. He breaks away long enough to yank the shirt over his head, tossing it aside.
I’ve seen him shirtless before, but this is different. This time, I can touch, trace the lines of his abs with my fingers, and feel the way his breath hitches when I scrape my nails lightly down his chest.
“Like what you see?” His mouth curves into that devastating smirk.
I pull him in. “Shut up.”
He chuckles against my lips, his hands unclasping my bra, leaving nothing between us but air and pure want. I gasp as his lips close around my nipple, his tongue flicking against the sensitive peak, while his hands trail down my stomach, fingers hooking into the waistband of my underwear.
He looks up at me, waiting for permission, and I lift my hips in response.
His touch is electric as he rids me of the lace down my legs. I tremble, exposed and vulnerable, but Brandon’s eyes hold nothing but reverence.
Table of Contents
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