Page 31 of Sold to My Ex's Brother
He withdraws this hand, pulling a pout to my lips, but he swiftly moves his fingers to the waistband of my sweatpants once more, working them down my body with ease as though he can’t think of anything he wants more. Through his own sweatpants, I can feel his straining erection, the damp drop of pre-cum that has already leaked from his tip, unable to hide that he wants this just as badly as I do.
I wiggle my butt against him as I wait for him to free his erection, which he makes short work of, pulling himself into his hand and rubbing himself up against me a few times so I can feel just how hard he is for me.
He still has not spoken, but he slips his hand to my neck, pulling me towards him, our tongues coming together as he guides himself against me as though there is nothing that we could say that we could not communicate better with our bodies.
Finally, he positions himself at my entrance, and I groan as I feel the weight of him there, the promise of his cock inside of me. It is almost becoming familiar now, the anticipation of everything that he is going to give to me so intense I feel as though I’m teetering at the very brink of what I need.
And then, in a single motion, he grabs my hip and pulls me back on to him, and I bury my face in the pillow to try and contain the cry of pleasure that wants to escape me.
The feel of him within me, fuck, it’s intense. Even more so from this angle, with my legs pressed together, making my grip feel even tighter than it did before.
He lets out a satisfied groan, circling his hips against me, holding our bodies flush together, before he begins to fuck me properly, his cock pistoning in and out, in and out of me, as the morning sunlight dapples across the bed around us.
The sound of our breath mingles as we fuck, my hand groping back for his body so that I could pull him even deeper inside of me. Does he have any idea how good he feels right now? I wish I could find some way to express it, some way with words to tell him, but all I can do is moan and pray that it is enough to convince him that he is giving me everything I need.
His hand roams all over my body, greedily groping at my breasts and my belly and my hips as he takes me right there in the bed. Our limbs are entangled, his mouth pressed to that spot where my throat and my ear met, the part that is almost painfully sensitive, but that seems to be what he wants from me. To push me to that point of no return, to make it so that there is nowhere for me to go, nothing for me to do, but give myself over to him, just as he wants me to.
He draws back and slams deep suddenly, drawing a cry from between my lips, just as his hand skirts down to my pussy once more so that he can play with my clit as he fucks me. He seems to make the most of this position, the fact that my body is completely on display for him to do with as he pleased.
It’s not like in the car, when we were so frantic and forced together, little space between us for anything other than how badly we needed this. He slows his pace slightly, circling his hips against mine to match the movement of his fingers on my clit, and I gasp as I feel the orgasm beginning to rise within me, faster than I can take hold of it.
He bites down softly on my earlobe, and I can feel the grin on his face even where I can’t see it.
He slams himself deep one last time and holds himself there, fingers still circling my clit over and over again—my pussy tugs and squeezes on his cock, the tantalizing edge of my release so close I can almost taste it.
And then, with another throaty moan, I let it happen, the orgasm pulsing from between my legs to every nerve-ending in my body. I try to bury my face in the pillow, but he slips his hand beneath my cheek, pushing me back towards him, so that I can look into his eyes as I come. And, as I stare at him, I wonder if this is his intention, making it so that I associate looking at his face with mind-binding pleasure...
He grunts as he finishes inside of me, and I feel the flood of his warm seed fill me, as if he is claiming his territory, making it known that I belong to him. Even if there’s nobody else here to see it, I can feel it, can feel how much he wants me. And that, no matter what I might try to do to convince myself otherwise, I crave him in just the same way.
“Fuck,” he groans, finally speaking his first word of the day as he stirs his hips against mine for another few moments. “You feel so fucking good, Maya...”
I’m still breathing hard and can do nothing other than reach out to him, grazing my fingers through his hair as I awkwardly turn myself over to meet his lips with mine.
“Good morning,” I greet him, slightly giddy from the intensity of the pleasure we just shared. He chuckles, kissing me back.
“Good morning,” he replies.
I love the way his voice sounds first thing in the morning, another little detail of him that I got the chance to uncover. I’m learning so much about him, those little parts of him that almost nobody else got a chance to uncover, and I want nothing more than to spend a little longer…
But before I can let myself sink into the comfort of his presence, I hear something.
A phone ringing, from the next room. His bedroom.
My heart sinks. I doubt that he is exactly taking social calls at the moment, and, sure enough, he draws back from me at once, a frown on his face as he swings his legs out of bed.
“I have to take that...”
I think of protesting, asking him to stay with me in bed a while longer, but I guess I have already asked enough of him for the time being. Instead, I watch as he re-arranges himself, pulling up his sweatpants and pushing a hand through his hair before he strides out to take the call.
I follow him with my gaze, the way the muscles in his back flex with every motion, and wish he could be lying in bed, letting me trace then with my fingertips instead of dealing with whatever has demanded his attention.
I lay there in bed, able to hear the rumble of his voice from the next room, though I cannot make out the specifics of what he is saying. Maybe that’s for the best. I doubt I want to know, really, what is going on out there in the real world. Probably better for me to keep my head down and try to stay out of it.
Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,that’s what my father would have said, though I had always hated when hespoke to me like that, as though I was nothing more than a little girl.
And I guess I’m long past the point of having an easy out from here. Anton changed when he found out about the baby; even if it hadn’t been for everything that had happened with his brother, I know now that he is not going to ease up, not going to let go, not going to allow me to slip through his fingers...
Suddenly, the door opens again, and Anton returns—though the look on his face is a far cry from the tender one he had shared with me in bed just a few moments before.
