Page 12 of The Wrong Brother

A bead of pre-cum wets the tip.

I lick my lips.

“Perfect.”

When he presses the head to my lips, it’s warm and already throbbing. My lips part and he slips inside deftly with a grunt,controlling the slow speed that I swallow him despite the strange angle.

My pussy pulses with want.

With his pants gone and his shirt open now, I can see the way his muscles bunch. For an older man, he’s impressively in shape. Abs jump under my scrabbling fingers as I try to find purchase, holding myself as he pumps into my mouth slowly.

“Good girl. You take it so well, darling. Your mouth is so soft. Is your pussy this soft for me? This wet?”

A moan barely slips around his shaft. He removes himself with a wetpop, eyes suddenly blazing as he vaults off the table, grabs me by the hips, and pulls me to the very edge.

“Wide for me, darling. No, I don’t care about the vase. Knock it over, throw it, I don’t care. I just want to see you spread for me. Good. Just like that.”

His thick fingers spread my folds as my thighs shake. I’m gripping the tattered remains of the skirt, aware that he’s seeingallof me right now in ways I wasn’t prepared for. I can hear him cursing quietly, the wet sound of his fist around his dick as he pumps himself more, leans in, taps his cock against my clit.

“Mmm—please.”

The begging slips out of me.

Russ’ eyes blaze as he smirks at me over the ruin of the dining room table.

“Please, what,l’vyonak?”

There it is again. I should ask—or at the very least, should remember. But all I can think about is the tension in my body,the pulsing deep in my core that I want someone to take away, to satisfy for once.

“Please…fuck me. Please.”

“You ask so nicely,” he grunts, positioning himself and digging his fingers into the meat of my thighs.

When he presses inside, the stretch almost burns. But it’s so, so good. I can’t remember the last time I felt this full.

All of my senses narrow tothisfeeling. The press of his hot hips against my ass, his hand on my stomach as he pumps into me slowly.

“Fuck, that’s good,” I whisper, earning a chuckle from the stranger who suddenly seems feral and dangerous as he ruts into me.

“This is what you want, isn’t it, Emma? This is why you came here?”

All I can do is make a sound of agreement. Mindlessly, my hands have come up to squeeze my tits, and when Russ notices, he chastises me.

“No, darling. You’re all mine tonight. Mine to touch, mine to savor.”

I let out a surprised yelp as he pulls me down the table, wraps an arm around my waist, and sets my feet on the floor.

My knees are so weak I think I’ll drop.

“Turn,” he orders, and when I don’t move fast enough, his hand slaps my ass. Another yelp slips out, and a gush of hot slick melts through my folds. “Turn.”

Obeying, I turn and stare across the decimated table, placing my palms on the dark wood. Russ moves behind me, presses a hand into my lower back to bend me over at the angle he wants, jerks his hips once.

It’s so jarring, so satisfying, that I cry out.

“You’re mine tonight, Emma. All mine.”

“Yours,” I gasp as he rams into me again, a greedy hand coming up to tear away the front of the dress.