“You seem nervous, Angel,” he growls, his fingers still wrapped around my wrist, holding me firm.
I breathe out a laugh and roll my eyes. “I’m not nervous,” I scoff. “I’m just being a good host.”
“You think a drink is what I want?” Brandon leans down and runs his nose over the mess of red curls on top of my head. A shiver runs down my spine.
I’m so turned on by his close proximity and the heat from his body that I can barely construct a sentence. “I … I … don’t know what you want.”
He chuckles and I’m so close to him now, I feel it rumble through his chest. “Oh yes you do, Angel. You know exactly what I want. You wouldn’t have worn that naughty little sundress if you didn’t want me to rip it off you.”
Oh Jesus, his dirty words hit me right in the clit, and I take in a shuddering breath. No man has ever spoken to me like this before, and I’m quickly becoming a convert.
“Tell me what you need, Angel,” he growls.
“I … I need you,” I gasp, pressing my aching body against him.
“How do you need me, baby?” he presses, running his fingers into the hair at the back of my head, holding me steady. “Do you need me to take care of you, give you everything you wish for in your bed at night?”
“Oh god yes,” I beg.
I know it’s now or never, Brandon could be gone any day, and I want to spend as much time under him as I can get. So throwing caution to the wind, I press up onto my tip toes and cover his mouth with mine, squeaking with delight when he fills his hands with my ass and draws me even closer. The squeak becomes a deep moan when the hard rod of his erection makes itself known against my stomach, and I link my fingers behind his neck, loving the feel of all his tense muscles. He feels like a wild beast ready to pounce.
“I think you’d better take the food out of the oven, Angel,” he pants as we separate. “I’m gonna be hungry once I’ve fucked you and I don’t wanna ruin all your hard work.”
I puff out an exasperated breath at the loss of his lips and hands and quickly take the lasagna out and put the salad in the fridge. As I close the door I feel Brandon’s big hands slide around my waist, his fingers spreading possessively over my rounded stomach.
“How wet is that sweet little pussy of yours, Angel?” he growls into my ear, his hot breath making the tendrils of hair brush against my neck.
“I … don’t know,” I gasp, instinctively pressing my ass back against him, making him groan deeply.
“Yes you do. You can feel the damp press of your panties, and I bet if I slide my fingers between your thighs, I’ll find you soaked for me.”
Oh god, he’s right. I can feel how wet and swollen my pussy is. And he’s about to realize it too as his fingers work beneath the hem of my sundress and graze across the front of my panties.
“Fuck, Angel,” Brandon sighs, his thick fingers sliding my panties to the side so they can explore the wet folds beneath. “You’re absolutely drenched. How long has it been since a man had his fingers inside you?”
I gasp and lean back against his firm body, allowing his fingers to stroke my clit in maddening little circles. My mind is a mess, and I can’t even remember the question he’s just asked me.
“C’mon Jules. How long has it been?” he persists, his fingers moving so slowly I want to scream.
“Years!” I cry out when he pinches my clit. “It’s been years since I’ve been with a man.”
“Good girl,” he praises, planting sucking wet kisses on my bare neck. “I want you to always tell me the truth. No lies and no bullshit.”
“Yes,” I sigh.
I can feel my orgasm building, and I want it so much — it’s so different from a self-administered climax, so much more intense, and I fear I could quickly become addicted to this feeling.
“Are you ready, Angel? Are you ready for me to make you come like you’ve never come before?”
I can’t respond with anything more than a very unlady-like grunt as he slides two thick fingers into my pussy and crooks them against the front wall of my channel, sending me crashing over the edge.
He growls words of encouragement into my ear, and my climax seems to last forever, the throbbing of my pussy around his fingers just builds and builds until I can hardly see straight and I have to push his hand away. I slump forward against the fridge door, but before my legs completely collapse from beneath me, I’m swept up into a strong pair of arms.
“Tell me where your bedroom is, Jules, or I’m likely to fuck you on the first soft surface I find,” Brandon rumbles.
“First door at the top of the stairs,” I sigh sleepily, feeling the heavy thud of his feet beneath us.
“Don’t you fall asleep, Angel,” he whispers. “I know you’ve already come, but there’s no way I’m done with your sexy curves just yet.”