“Please be caref—” She didn’t get to finish the sentence. Instead, she gasped as I sank my tongue between her folds. The scents of jasmine and vanilla permeated the air mixed with a heady dose of her arousal. I circled my tongue lazily, exploring before I slipped a finger inside and made her moan.
I wanted to give her an orgasm before I slid my girth into her, but that’s not what she wanted. “Ohmygod, that feels good. I’m close, baby. I need you inside me when I come.”
“Say the magic word,” I teased.
“Please.”
With a final circle of my tongue, I sat up and lined myself up with her entrance. The head of my shaft sinking through all her wetness to work the tip inside as I kneaded her ass was pure bliss.
Spreading her cheeks wide, I watched as my body disappeared inside hers so damn slow.
“Christ, Lil. So pretty.” It had been a long time since I’d gone raw. Every sensation was multiplied. The heat and squeeze of her, the feel of her channel and the dampness easing my way.
Warm. Slick. So. Damn. Snug.
I pushed forward until she writhed against me, trying to get me to thrust, and a low moan erupted from her throat. When I didn’t accommodate, she took matters into her own hands and rocked back, taking me in until my thighs touched hers.
She’d moved in a steady rhythm, chasing her orgasm as the head of me dragged across that sensitive spot inside her, but the angle wasn’t right. And I needed time to play. To enjoy my view. A warning tingled at the base of my spine, reminding me I was close.
“Brody, God. I love the way you stretch me, sugar.”
“Your body grips mine. I can see your body tugging against my skin. So good.”
Her sheath flexed around me. She liked the dirty talk. So did I.
My hips began to swing in time with hers, my fingers digging into the flesh of her cheeks in a way I knew would leave bruises, but I couldn’t stop.
I started with slow thrusts in time with hers but the faster I went the less her hips moved and the louder her moans got. “Broooodeeee.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle when she drew out my name. “Like that, Liliana? Want me to make you come?”
Twisting herself, she held me suspended with her plum-colored eyes. “Jesus. That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
This was nothing like what I’d felt for Andra. Andra was a poor substitution, a muted shade of blue when real love was a vibrant violet hue.
I was irrevocably, undeniably in love with Lily Costello.
I swung my hips faster, the slap of my thighs against hers rocking her forward. Her ass shook with every thrust, a jiggle of skin and muscle as she stared through my soul.
“Lily, I’m close.”
“Me, too. I need...”
I knew what she needed. Angling my hips up, I hit that spot. Dragged the head of my dick across it over and over again.
“Oh, God, Shaw. Like that.” Her moans got wild and deep.
Guiding a hand around her leg, I circled my finger around her clit and her muscles went tight all over. Lily’s legs began to shake, her muscles clamping down on me with ever-increasing force.
“Fuck, Lily. Give it to me.” Pressing down on her clit, I nudged that spot inside her in unison.
She came unglued. Shattered. Her canal pulsed and shoved me over the edge in the hardest fucking orgasm of my life. Lightning rode down my spine. My cock visibly jerked alongside my heartbeat with each throb inside my girl. My. Girl.
Her mouth popped open in a little O when she felt it, too, as the last of her spasms waned. “Holy shit.”
Yeah, holy shit.
I was hers so completely, I’d never again be the same.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Collateral Damage
Lily
I traced the scar across his chin. Admired the thick onyx lashes. A mouth fashioned for sin.
I placed an openmouthed kiss on his injured shoulder before I snuggled into the crook of his neck on his good side.
Brody wasn’t quiet when he came. The completely male sounds he made were half grunt, half moan and all Brody. I was addicted to that sound.
But something was off. He was so quiet I could hear the gears turning in his head.
“You okay, big guy?”
“Andra was her name, and she played me. Big time.”
The words were said so soft, like he was afraid I wouldn’t want this part of him, or maybe he was embarrassed to give it.
“Tell me about her?”
“We were together almost a year. She even moved in. She was too perfect, that should have been the first clue. I didn’t realize she was playing a part, telling me what she thought I wanted to hear. If I liked the movie, so did she. If I didn’t like the dress, she didn’t wear it. If I wanted to have sex, she never told me no. We never argued. Not once.”
He ran a hand over his face. “Then the suggestions started. I should rent a loft downtown. I should get the new Lambo. Her ex had an account for her at Dior. If I’d just do the same, it would make life so much easier. She didn’t want me. Andra wanted a lifestyle. I think I chose to not see it for a long time. When I didn’t take the suggestions the fights started. I’ve never needed to flash the money around. I don’t even like the fucking celebrity of it all. I got home from a road trip, and she was just gone.”
I knew a little. They were photographed together a lot. I think she was the only relationship he’d had, and it was fairly early on in his career. She was engaged to a baseball player now.
I ran my nose over his collarbone. “If she only wanted you for your money, she never deserved you, sugar. You are so much more than that.”
“It kinda set me up for the years to come, ya know? It’s hard to know who your real friends are and who only wants something from you. Who’s real and who’s fake. Some of the other guys handle it like they were born to it—all the celebrity and other stuff. I just wanted to play football. I don’t know... I’m just fed up with all the shit that comes with it.”
I gave him a small nod. “My dad dealt with it poorly. He needed the validation; I think that had more to do with the depression than anything. If you’re the life of the party, nobody realizes you’re riding the razor’s edge. He hid it. Kept sinking deeper until I think he couldn’t see a way out anymore.”
Rumors about my dad’s death had always persisted, but this was the first time I told anyone I thought my dad took his own life. He’d never sought help and didn’t have any of the tools or knowledge about how to live with depression. Depression, likely exasperated by repetitive head injuries. But this wasn’t about my dad.