The Other Brother (Binghamton #4)

Lifting her mouth to the crown, she swirls her tongue at the tip while her hand pumps up and down along my length, her other hand now gently squeezing my balls. I’m about to fucking come.

“Baby, stop,” I say desperately. “Fucking stop.” With a devilish smile on her face, she lifts up and starts to crawl up my body as I try to tamp down my panting. She presses her lips against mine and parts my mouth with her tongue and dives deep, her hands roaming my chest, her fingertips scoring my nipples.

Shit, there is no way I can stop her pursuit and I’m glad I’m not, especially as I feel her arousal against my leg.

Wanting to see how wet she is, wet from pleasuring me, I bring my hands to her pussy and press a finger past her lips and run my index finger along her soaking wet clit.

“Fucking hell, baby. You’re so wet.”

“For you,” she breathes out heavily. Yeah, she likes the way my finger massages her clit. “God, just like that.” Her lips collide with mine, her hands gripping my head while her tongue flicks relentlessly in my mouth. The occasional moan slides out of her mouth and into mine with every long glide of my finger along her slit.

Needing to taste her, I remove my hand and say, “Sit up.”

She eyes me, but I help her until she’s sitting on my chest, I scoot her forward so her pussy is positioned right against my mouth. Scared and a little shy with her legs spread on either side of my head, her chest heaves, waiting for what I’m going to do next. I slide my hands up her legs and then back down so I’m gripping her shins. I keep them spread and dive my tongue forward. With one touch, her head and arms are flying back. She grips my legs behind her as her head falls between her shoulder blades, her neck convulsing with the moans that rip through her.

So wet, so responsive, this woman is going to make me lose my damn mind.

I make long leisurely strokes along her clit, just as her hips start to move against my tongue, begging for more.

“So good, Aaron. It feels so good.”

I move my tongue faster, flicking relentlessly, loving how she becomes wetter and wetter with each stroke. Her legs start to shake in my hands, her cries becoming louder and louder, and I pray the neighbors aren’t catching any of this. From behind her, her fingers dig into my skin as her orgasm approaches, her body quivering, her clit hardening . . .

“Oh God.” Her pelvis flies forward, and I suck her clit in my mouth as she comes, and comes hard.

She rides my tongue for a few more strokes before scooting back on my stomach and placing her hands on my chest, out of breath. My cock is aching, in great need for release, but I give Amelia a moment.

When her eyes open and I’m greeted with her beautiful irises, I sigh, so fucking in love with this woman. She smiles and scoots back farther until her slickness is rubbing against my dick. She uses my stomach as a foundation for her hands as she casually glides my length along her slit.

I hiss between my teeth from the feel of her, of the way her breasts sway with her movements, the loving look in her face.

“Ride me, Amelia. Take my cock.”

Smiling lazily, she positions my cock at her entrance and slowly lowers, taking me in inch by glorious inch until she’s fully seated. She takes a deep breath and says, “I feel so full.”

That never gets old, hearing her say that, knowing I can make her feel that way, that I’m almost too much man for her.

“Take your time, baby.” I don’t mean it. I want her to fuck me, to move her hips rapidly up and down, but I know she needs time to adjust. I’m six foot four, and she’s five foot four, so she always needs to take her time.

She starts to move her hips and bites down on her bottom lip as the friction between us starts to light her up, her tight channel milking me with every squeeze at the top of her rocking.

Wanting to be closer, I sit up and pull her into my chest so her nipples are now rising and falling against my skin, her hardened pebbles turning me on even more; it’s almost painful to not go faster, so I take control. I flip her to her back, spread her legs with my hands on her thighs, and drive my cock forcefully inside her. She tenses and then relaxes, smiling at me before she grips her breasts and starts plucking at her nipples. She rolls her head side to side, her channel tightening around me, her moans slipping past her lips, her eyes fluttering shut. Her back arches off the ground, and she cries out, her orgasm pushing her over the edge. I pump into her a few more times.

Watching her fall over, the way her pussy clenches my cock, it’s all too much and a numbing feeling rips through my veins from head to toe as pleasure rocks me. “Fuck,” I moan, exertion in my muscles causing me to spill myself inside Amelia. “Yes, fuck . . . yes.” I move my hips slowly as pleasure courses through me.

It’s always incredible with her, always, because the woman below me is the love of my life, and I can’t imagine one day without her.

My hips slow to a stop and I collapse on top of Amelia. I smooth her wild hair from her face and lightly kiss her lips, the taste of her pussy hot on my lips. Grinning like a fool at me, she says, “Happy Anniversary, Aaron.”

Sighing, feeling like the luckiest man in the world, I say, “Happy Anniversary, baby.” I kiss her nose. “Here’s to fifty more.”





Chapter Nineteen


AMELIA

I stare out my front window. Flurries flutter from the sky, coating the freshly shoveled driveway Aaron has been working on for the past ten minutes. I didn’t ask him to shovel. I was in the midst of taking stuffing out of the oven when I heard the telltale sound of a shovel scraping asphalt. Sure enough, there he was, in jeans, a jacket, boots, and gloves, shoveling. He wasn’t wearing a hat or a scarf but from the way his breath was puffing into the air, I assumed he was probably hot anyway from all the shoveling.

The last time I spoke to him was the night we went to dinner. I’ve seen him in passing, but have felt too nervous I would change my mind if I actually stopped to talk to him. Instead, I’ve given courtesy waves and continued on with my day, even though my heart has been aching.

I’m here now. I hurt you, and I’m so fucking sorry. But I don’t think I deserve to suffer for that mistake over and over again. I haven’t stopped loving you, Amelia. I doubt I ever will. When he said he wouldn’t beg, my heart lurched, which it shouldn’t. I should feel happy about that. Relieved. But I don’t.

Amelia, please stay here for Thanksgiving. I’d love to take you to see your father. And please stay for your birthday so I can spoil you.

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