His breathing picks up, but he doesn’t stop turning me on, playing with my nipple.
I want more, so much more, so I turn all the way onto my side, facing him. I can barely see his face in the darkness of the night, but can see the outline of his carved jaw.
“I’m turned on,” I say as if he didn’t know that.
“So am I.”
“I want a release.”
“Me too,” he says.
“We shouldn’t be doing this. This is crossing a line.”
He doesn’t say anything to that. He just smooths his hand to my back and down my shorts, gripping my ass tightly.
“Breaker, I need you to say something. Tell me this is crossing a line.”
“I’m not going to say anything to stop this. Not a goddamn thing.”
“Why not?” I ask, my heart hammering.
“I think you know.”
I shake my head. “I don’t, Breaker. I don’t know.”
Once again, he remains silent, and just when I think he’s not going to do anything, he rolls onto his back. He pushes down the blankets, and then he grabs me. In one smooth motion, he lifts me on top of his lap, right over his erection.
“Oh God,” I breathe out heavily.
He reaches between us and adjusts himself so I’m resting along his ridge.
“You want a release, Lia? Take it,” he says with confidence. “Use my cock.”
The demand is so naughty, so erotic, something I never would have expected him to say, yet it switches something inside me. Instead of shying away, I feel myself listen to him.
“L-Like this?” I ask as I move my pelvis, my clit sliding along his erection.
He nods. “Just like that.”
“With our clothes on?”
“Yes. Have you never dry-humped before?”
“N-No.”
“Then I’ll help you.” He sits up on the bed effortlessly, as if I’m not on top of him, and lines his back against his headboard. I’m still pressing against his erection, but this position makes me feel the pressure of his girth on my clit.
His hand falls under my shirt and moves up to my breast, where he cups it and gives it a gratifying squeeze. My head falls back and my pelvis juts forward, creating such a delicious friction that I repeat the movement.
“Just like that,” he says, his thumb playing with my nipple now. “Ride my dick, Lia. I want you to focus on your pleasure. I’ll get off when you get off.”
He’ll get off when I get off? The selflessness, it thrills me even more.
I rest my hands on his shoulders, and as he plays with my nipple, I pick up my pace, moving my clit over his cock, loving the way it feels and the intense pressure pulsing through me, just as he pulls my chest forward and sucks my breast into his mouth through the fabric of my shirt.
A gasp pops out of me as he moves his mouth across to the other breast, sucking and nibbling as well. There’s just enough protection from my shirt to frustrate me, so I drag the neckline down, exposing the top of my breasts. He doesn’t skip a beat as he sucks on my cleavage, moving from one side to the other, using his teeth the whole time.
“Yes,” I call out, feeling shy but also crazy at the same time, like I can’t keep in the pleasure. I don’t want to. I want to let it out. I want to release it all.
I’ve been so frustrated, so bottled up, that it feels like Breaker just popped the cork, and I’m finally letting myself live for a moment.
I rock harder against him as the pressure between my legs builds, and my bottom half starts to go numb. I can tell my impending release is just a few moments away.
“God, yes,” I whisper as he bites down on the side of my breast, the pain of it turning quickly into pleasure, and I guide his head to the other side. “More,” I say as he drags my neckline lower, a rip sounding through the silent room. His mouth finds my nipple, and he pulls it in with one large suck. Holy fuck, that feels incredible.
I groan and ride his length, pulsing harder and harder.
He moans, and a wave of goosebumps erupts over my skin.
He bites down on my other nipple, ripping my shirt completely open, and I grind harder against him.
His mouth is so delicious, his hands so attentive, his mind in it to please me, not himself. It’s so sexy, so incredibly gratifying that I grip the back of his neck, toss my head back, and I let the pleasure of his delicious cock against my clit take me over the edge.
“Fuck, Breaker,” I call out as I ride him faster, my orgasm piercing through me at such a fast pace that I do everything in my control to keep it going, to make the feeling last as long as I can. Just as it starts to wane, he groans against my breast, he pulses up against me, and then he’s groaning into my shoulder as he comes as well.
I’m so startled, so intoxicated by the sound of him coming that I just sit there, stunned, holding him, not caring that my shirt is ripped open or that he was just sucking on my breasts. Or that I just crossed the biggest line with my best friend ever.
“Jesus, fuck,” he whispers as he catches his breath. He lifts his head and then leans against the headboard. In the dark of the night, I can catch the rise and fall of his chest, but that’s about it.
Oh my God, we just made each other come.
I . . . I can’t believe it.
Now that it’s over, I feel so shocked.
Unsure of what to say, I move off him and then whisper, “Can I borrow a shirt?”
“Of course,” he says. “I can get it for you.”
“No, it’s okay. I can grab it.” I get out of bed, feeling so awkward that I close my ripped shirt together and move over to his dresser, where I grab a shirt and then go to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me, lean against the counter.
What the hell did I just do?
I . . . I just humped my best friend to the point that both of us orgasmed.
I’m freaking out.
Big time.
We crossed a line, a big one, and I’m pretty sure I just ruined everything.
There’s a knock on the door, followed by, “Lia, you okay?”
No.
I’m not at all.
“Yeah,” I call out. “Just, uh, changing and going to the bathroom. Be out in a second.”
“Lia, do you want to talk about this?” His voice is sincere and comforting. Not the same as the man who told me to use his cock for pleasure. This is the Breaker I know. The Breaker I love.
“What?” I squeak out. “No, of course not. Nothing to talk about.” I change out of my shorts and my shirt and slip his shirt on, leaving me in nothing but his clothes . . . that smell just like him of course.
With turmoil twisting in my stomach, I go to the bathroom, clean up, and then don’t bother to look in the mirror before I leave because what’s the point? I know what I’ll see—someone incredibly scared about what just happened.
I exit the bathroom to find Breaker on the other side of the door, holding a new pair of shorts.
“Hey,” he says as he lifts my chin so I’m forced to look him in the eyes. “You good?”
I tack on a smile because if I’ve learned anything from Brian in the past year and a half that I was with him, it’s to know how to fake a smile. “Of course. Just really exhausted now.” I pat his bare chest. “Took it out of me. Do you, uh, want me to go back to my place?”