Home > The Brentwood Boys (The Brentwood Boys #1-3)(45)

The Brentwood Boys (The Brentwood Boys #1-3)(45)
Author: Meghan Quinn

A wave of arousal pools at my center as he picks up my other leg and continues his tortuous, yet consuming kisses up my limb, repeating the little pecks he gave to my right leg, pausing at the inside of my knee, scraping his jawline along my inner thigh until he hits my bikini line.

Shamelessly, my legs fall open. His eyes darken and narrow, his focus on my clit. I know he can see how aroused I am; it’s hard not to when I’m already so incredibly wet. I want his finger inside me. I want him to taste me like that, but we know better. One taste. That would be all it would take . . . for either of us. One. Taste.

Pressing forward, he kisses above my pubic bone, up my stomach to my breasts where he greedily sucks one of my nipples into his mouth while the hand not pinning mine down rolls my other nipple between his fingers. When he sucks my boob into his mouth, it’s everything I’ve ever dreamed off. Soft slow sucks followed by hard, gasping bites.

“Oh God,” I moan loudly, my hips thrusting toward his. I pull at my hands, but he doesn’t budge. “Let me touch you.”

“No,” he mutters against my breast before he moves to the next one, taking my nipple in one suck. He nibbles, laps, sucks, and kisses, until I’m a writhing mess beneath him.

I’m about to burst. I’ve never experienced anything like this—the teasing touches, the lazy kisses, the appreciation of my body. This is what I missed out on. Thank God I left . . .

Knox makes me feel beautiful, like a desirable woman, something I’ve never felt before. The look in his eyes when he gave me my gorgeous heart necklace floored me. And his words, “Just a reminder of who you belong to.” Everything he does and says . . . Yeah, it turns me on, but it also makes me feel precious. Worshipped. His.

“Knox, please . . .”

“Please what?” He smiles against my breast.

Yeah . . . please what? I don’t know what I’m begging for, all I know is that I’m begging for something.

“I can’t . . . ah, God, yes, bite me again.” He nibbles on the side of my breast, sucking hard and then scraping his teeth. No doubt he’s leaving his mark. He works his way to my collarbone, to my neck, then my lips where he swipes his tongue across my mouth. When I open for him, he leaves me hanging and trails his lips back down my neck, lighting up my heated skin with every pass of his mouth.

He kisses my collarbone.

Between my breasts.

To my ribs.

I suck in a deep breath.

To my stomach.

Above my pubic bone.

My legs spread.

To my left thigh.

My right.

I groan.

And then he hovers, right above the juncture between my thighs. The air stills around us, my pulse hammers in my throat, my aching clit begging for release as it thrums desperately with need.

One gust of air and I’ll go off, and when he lowers even closer, I almost explode. Then he kisses the spot right above my slit.

“Jesus, yes,” I say. But instead of him moving down one more inch, his lips progress north. And I groan out in frustration, tears billowing at my eyes. “No, oh my God, Knox. Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please lick me.”

His tongue swirls around my belly button as he looks up at me. “Like that?”

“No, you ass,” I say, unable to control myself. His chuckle only turns me on even more. “Lick my pussy.”

“Hot damn,” he mutters as he continues to move his mouth over my body. “Even though hearing you say that almost made me come in my pants, there is no way.” He moves up my body, releases my hands, and scoots his briefs down so his cock juts out. A serious look in his eyes takes over as he says, “I’m clean. Just got tested a few months ago, and I haven’t been with anyone since.”

I swallow hard. Is this really happening?

“Me too.”

On a primal grunt, he lowers his hips to mine where his cock connects with my clit. A low hiss escapes our lips as he stills my pelvis with his hand.

“Just rubbing, Em, do you hear me?” He stares at me, completely serious. “Nothing else.”

“Okay.” I nod, knowing what a huge step this is.

Wet-humping, I’m good with that. So good with that.

Still pressing my hips into the mattress, he starts to move his length up and down my slit. Slick and ready, he glides easily over me, the feeling so raw, so carnal with nothing between us that my orgasm already starts to spike deep in the pit of my stomach.

“God, Knox, you feel so damn good. I love your cock. So big.”

“Can’t hear . . . that enough,” he grunts, eyes squeezed shut as his pace picks up. “Fuck, baby, this feels—”

“Amazing, so freaking amazing.” I raise my hands above my head and grip the comforter beneath me. “Faster, Knox, oh God, faster. Yes,” I breathe out when he picks up the pace.

He groans before his mouth falls to mine. I open to him, and his tongue dives down, tangling, pulling every last ounce of self-control I have left. I clamp my legs around his waist and thrust my hips into his cock when he slides up and down, creating the most beautifully exquisite friction I’ve ever felt.

One stroke.

Two.

Oh fuck, every nerve ending is on fire as my throbbing clit spasms along his length.

“Fuck, oh my God, yes, Knox, yes,” I yell, my orgasm hitting me so damn hard that my mouth falls open, but no words escape me.

It goes on forever, sending wave after wave of pleasure up my spine.

“Christ,” Knox groans and then stills as wet, hot spurts hit my stomach. His orgasm is sexy, the way his voice rumbles deep in his chest and his body shakes above mine. So freaking sexy. Chest filled with air, he expels it and then collapses on top of me. The weight of his body comforting, like a heated blanket on a cold, wintery day.

My hand travels up and down his back as his lips press gently into my neck. He takes in a deep breath and sighs.

“Fuck, babe, I don’t want you to leave.”

“I know.” His head lifts, and he pushes a stray lock of hair behind my ear. I hate that we won’t see each other for a month. “What happens if you run into an old fling in Texas?” I hate how insecure I sound right now, but I can’t help it. I’m close to tears. I don’t want to leave him. I don’t want to lose him.

“Clearly I’m going to fuck her.” His joking smile does nothing to ease my worry. “Come on.” He squeezes my side. “You know I’m kidding.”

“I hate to be that girl, but I don’t find that crap funny. You know what happened with—”

“Shit, Em, I didn’t mean it like that.” Immediately his face softens with understanding. “I’m sorry.” He leans down and runs his lips over mine before pressing his palm above my heart. “This right here, this belongs to me.” He takes my hand and presses it above his heart. “And this, this right here belongs to you. There is nothing you need to worry about, okay?”

I know he’s right. He’s done nothing but show me true commitment. Through our make-out phase. He’s been patient, willing to wait, even now when he showed incredible restraint. Respect. He wants to know me, not just my body, and I truly love that about him.

“Okay.” Tears start to well in my eyes. This is so stupid. I was never supposed to get involved with someone right after Neil, but somehow, Knox Gentry wiggled his way into my world, and I can’t seem to shake him . . . not that I want to. The darkness that clouded my heart after Neil and I broke up has gone, and my soul is beginning to feel again.

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