My thighs flex, lifting me up, then dropping me back down.
Each thrust rubs against my insides, driving me insane with each small move we make. It drives my body to search out more.
How is it so different with Brayden? With Austin there wasn’t really anything.
Fuck. Why does this feel so good?
Brayden’s head leans back against the chair, abs tensing as he pushes his hips up each time I fall back down.
For some reason it pisses me off, almost as much as it turns me on, to see the blissed-out expression on his face. I pick up my pace, riding him harder, faster. Make him feel how angry I am that I need this, need him.
His green eyes open and bore straight into me. “If you’re trying to hate fuck me, you have to do it harder.”
My lip twitches up. “I said, shut up.”
His hands grip my waist again, burning my skin and making my * clench.
He leans forward, snarling at me. “Harder.”
He lifts me up and pulls me back down like I weigh nothing. Thrusting up, fucking me like we’re going to die if one of us doesn’t come in the next thirty seconds.
I’m a rag doll in his hands, crying out, no control.
“This is what you wanted.” He breathes against my lips. “You think you’re in charge, but what you need is my cock to dominate you. For me to possess you.”
“Fuuuck . . .”
I can’t take anymore. My muscles lock up, * squeezing down as I convulse on top of him.
He somehow seems to get deeper, almost painful. Long, hard thrusts followed by a frantic pounding. I grab him, holding on for the ride.
He lets out a roar, holding me down as he explodes at the same time as a loud crack rings out in the room.
We crash to the floor in a pile of chair bits and bodies. Chest to chest, both breathing hard, neither able to move. His cock still twitches inside me, making my walls clench.
“Smooth move, Cassanova,” I eventually manage to get out.
He starts laughing, almost a cackle. “Shit. Ow! Fuck . . . I think I’ve got a splinter in my ass.”
“Are you sure it’s a splinter?”
His fingers tickle my sides as I try to sit, landing me back down on his chest.
“Oh, motherfucker!” he groans.
“Serves you right.” I laugh, smiling down at him.
“You’re mean. I’m in real physical pain here.”
I can’t stop, snickers erupting as I push off his chest, even more so when he glares at me.
I gasp as his cock and come leaves me, spilling a mess down on him. What’s worse is I can feel more coming out and dripping on him.
He smirks, watching it. “That is so hot.”
“It’s so gross.”
I stand and head to the sink for a washcloth. When I turn back around he’s rolling onto his side, the goo sliding down onto the floor.
“Eww, stop!”
But I’m the one who stops. As he turns more, I see it.
Sticking out of his sexy ass, near his hip, is a piece of wood.
“Oh, my God!” I rush over and kneel down next to him.
It’s about the size of my finger.
Brayden’s fingers wrap around it and before I can stop him, he yanks it out. There’s blood now, and I run to the bathroom for the first-aid kit and bottle of rubbing alcohol.
When I get back, I stare down at him, looking at the mess on the floor, and start laughing.
“What’s so funny about this?”
I kneel beside him and soak a piece of gauze with the alcohol, then put it against the bleeding hole.
He hisses, slamming his fist against the floor. “Motherfucker!”
“The so-cool Brayden Hunt laid out on the floor. What would your adoring fans think if I snapped a picture?”
His eyes narrow at me, then his lips pull up, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Then I’ll just have to let everyone know how I ended up like this. First, I’d tell Ryan how his sister is such a pain in my ass.”
I hold the bottle of alcohol above the hole in his skin and pour it in. He screams out, smacking the floor again.
“Abuse!”
“Oh, shut up. It’s not that bad.”
“Says you.” Another hiss, his eyes screwing shut. “I need another nurse. Your bedside manner sucks.”
“Well, I have a difficult patient.” I look closely at the wound. It’s not bad and the bleeding is slowing down.
I finish cleaning him up and dress the wound while he continues to look at me. When I’m done, we both stand and look down at the chair damage.
“What are we going to do about the mess?” I ask.
“I’ll get it and come up with a story for your mom.”
I nod. “Okay.” It’s suddenly awkward, and we’re both still naked. “I’m just gonna . . . go to my room.”
I run upstairs, needing to get away from any visual evidence of what I’ve just done, and grab my phone off my nightstand.
I tackled your best friend.
The words are out to my brother before I can even think. I need to tell someone. I need someone to stop this, to stop me, because I don’t think I can do it on my own.
ewww.
Ewww? That’s it? A guy just fucked me and all my big brother has to say when I tell him who it was, there’s nothing more than mild disgust. I get nothing.