I craved him.
His fingers slid around me, clasping my ass to lift me up. I clamped my legs around him, feeling the hardness of his desire pressed between my thighs. He ground his hips against mine, and I arched my back, begging for more. The center of my core burned for him. I burned for him. Every part of me.
I barely noticed or felt him walking us further into the locker room; my sole focus consisted of Brock. He placed me down on a hard surface, his fingers tugging at the hem of my shorts.
“Shorts off,” Brock growled.
“If you want them off, you’re going to have to do the work,” I breathed.
His husky chuckle brushed over my lips. “With pleasure, Firefly.” Hurried fingers hooked into the waistband as his half-lidded gaze found mine. His eyes never wavered. “Better hold on.” He gave a yank, pulling the shorts down my hips.
I let out a small laugh, my hands finding his shoulders for stability. “I was thinking the same thing,” I murmured, guiding my fingers into the front of his pants.
He hissed at the first touch of my hand wrapping around the velvety yet hard length of him. A smile curled my lips as I teased him with slow, deliberate strokes. “Josie,” he breathed. “Jesus, I missed you.”
“Then show me,” I dared, my need for him reaching the point where I wanted him deep inside me.
I got what I asked for.
Shoving aside the black lace panties, he sank a finger inside me, and my muscles instantly clutched around him. One finger turned into two as he moved in and out. His thumb rubbed over that sensitive spot, driving me fucking insane. No matter how close I grew to a shattering climax, Brock eased back just enough to keep me from sailing into bliss.
A curse escaped me as my fingers tightened around him.
Digging a condom out of his pocket, he held the foil wrap for me between his fingers. I gladly obliged, ripping it open and sliding it down over each marvelous inch. I knew the reasoning behind using a condom even though I took the pill, but a part of me wanted to feel him inside me without any barriers.
He drew me to the edge of the counter, aligning himself between my legs so the tip of his erection pressed into me.
“What are you waiting for?” I panted, my eyes clouded with desire.
“Always so impatient.”
In one quick thrust, he buried himself inside me, my wetness surrounding him. As I rode that first wave of pure pleasure, my lids fluttered shut and my head fell back. Nothing in the world came close to the feeling of Brock moving inside me.
I tightened my legs around his waist, keeping him pinned close to me as I angled my hips, seeking more of him. Brock brought me right to the cusp of pleasure with each stroke, but holding back and drawing it out instead of sending me over the edge. He knew it wouldn’t take much to rip the orgasm from me.
“Please,” I whimpered. “Brock, please.”
“You’re mine, Firefly. I want to hear you say it,” he murmured, his breath a hot kiss against my skin.
Asshole.
But just as quickly I went from cursing him to worshiping his name. He thrust into me again, and I would have said anything, but I meant the words that tumbled from my lips with everything in me. “You’re mine. Only mine.”
“Say it again,” he rasped, tendrils of his hair falling forward over his darkened eyes.
Brushing aside the strand, I returned the sentiment, never meaning anything more in my life. “You’re mine, Brock Taylor.” My fingers plunged into his hair, a soft cry and a moan following the burst of my orgasm. I swear I saw the twinkling of stars behind my eyes. Or maybe they were fireflies.
“Firefly,” he whispered, nuzzling his face into the crock of my damp neck as his seed spilled into the condom.
For a long moment, we just stayed where we were, neither of us moving. Our breaths evened out, our hearts returning to a comforting rhythm that beat in time with each other. I was the first to shift, my hands dropping away from him. He sensed something changed between us and pulled out of me, but he didn’t step away.
Brock hooked a finger under my chin and tipped my face up until my gaze met his. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
A million thoughts, but all I said was “We should probably get to class.”
He shook his head, not letting me wiggle off the counter. “No, I’m not buying it. That was not what you were thinking. Since when do you hold back telling me how you feel?”
He had me there. Fine. He wanted to know how I was really feeling. I would lay it all on the table. What the fuck did I have to lose?