Page 168 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
Her lips are swollen, her eyes blown wide, her chest heaving. She’s wrecked in the most beautiful way possible.
“Look at me,” I say again, stepping between her legs.
She locks eyes with me.
“I’m going to be inside you,” I tell her, my voice low and rough. “And I’m not going anywhere. Do you understand? No matter what happens with the company. No matter what happens with the baby. I’m right here.”
“Yes,” she sobs. “Yes, Owen. Just… please.”
There’s zero need for latex. We’re already way past the point of consequences, and I want her completely bare.
I grip her hips, guiding the blunt head of my cock directly to her wet pussy, and drive forward.
It’s one smooth, powerful thrust, burying my thick length to the hilt. She gasps, her back arching off the counter to accommodate me. We fit together perfectly.
I groan, the intense friction of her tight walls clamping down around me nearly undoing me right there. It feels raw. It feels different this time. Before, it was fun, sexy, exciting. Now, with the knowledge of life growing inside her, it feels primal. Sacred.
I begin to move. Slow at first, giving her time to adjust to my size, then faster, harder, my hips slapping heavily against her thighs, matching the desperate rhythm of her breathing.
“Owen,” she moans, wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling me down so our chests are pressed together. “It feels… so good.”
“It’s ours,” I whisper against her ear, thrusting deep. “This is ours, Tessa.”
I hook her legs over my shoulders, deepening the angle, driving into her with everything I have. The vanity rocks against the wall. The mirror fogs up. The only sounds in the room are the wet slap of skin against skin and our harsh, ragged breathing.
I watch her face as the pleasure takes over, smoothing out the worry lines, replacing them with a hard climax. She bites her lip, holding back a scream.
“Let go,” I order, grinding my hips against hers. “Let it go, baby. I’ve got you.”
She unravels.
I feel her tighten around me, pulsing, milking me. She cries out my name, a broken, beautiful sound that goes straight to my heart.
“Owen! Owen!”
Her release triggers mine. I can’t hold back. I bury my face in her neck and pour myself into her, groaning as the waves of pleasure crash over me. It goes on forever, a release of days of fear and anger and longing.
I hold her there, panting, my body heavy against hers, refusing to pull out. I want to stay connected for as long as possible. I want to seal the promise physically.
We stay like that for a long time. The bathroom is quiet again, save for the drip of the faucet she didn’t turn off completely.
Slowly, the world starts to seep back in.
Tessa lets out a long, shaky breath and rests her forehead against my shoulder. She’s limp, her body relaxed for the first time in a week.
“Wow,” she whispers hoarsely.
“Yeah,” I laugh breathlessly, kissing her damp hair. “Wow.”
I pull back slightly, smoothing her hair away from her face. She looks tired, but the sickly pallor is gone, replaced by a rosy flush. She looks alive again.
“You okay?” I ask gently.
She nods. Then she looks down at my hand, which is still resting protectively on her lower stomach.
“We have to tell them,” she says quietly. “Ethan and Asher. They need to know.”
“We will,” I promise. “Tonight. I’ll call them. We’ll order whatever you can eat, and we’ll tell them.”
