by Amelia Wilde
“Skylar,” he said, and I looked up to find his equally hungry gaze. “Show me how you touch yourself.”
I hesitated. I had never done that in front of someone before. “Why? You already do it just fine.”
Brandon frowned. Apparently, he really didn’t like being contradicted during foreplay. “Because I said so. Don’t be shy. Let me see.”
Somewhat reluctantly, I closed my eyes and slid my hand between my legs. My fingers quickly found the familiar rhythm I set for myself in those moments that had become a bit too common of late.
“Does it feel good?”
Wordlessly, I nodded, frowning in concentration as I tried to ignore the distractions: the occasional chill of the air, the cold steel rim of the stool, and the fact that Brandon was still fully clothed—yet again!—watching me pleasure myself.
“What are you thinking about?”
I didn’t say anything, just shook my head, frustrated. Goddamn it. It was the same with everyone. Men always thought it just took a quick tap or two and magically I’d come. It didn’t matter if I tried to explain it or not—no one ever seemed to understand that my mind was what controlled my orgasm, not my body, and that it was hard fucking work keeping all the distractions at bay.
And right now, I couldn’t. The spell had dissipated; this felt like work, not play.
“Do you need help?”
I opened my eyes to find Brandon standing next to me, naked except for his underwear, a pair of skin-tight boxer briefs that did nothing to hide his obvious erection. My fingers sped up involuntarily as I took in all six feet, four inches of perfection. I was right about the home gym. He was obviously a serious athlete, based on the sinewy muscles that curved around his shoulders, the stacked lines of a six-pack, the perfect V of muscle that disappeared under the cotton. He was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen.
Gently, he pulled me off the stool, slid behind me, then rearranged me between his legs. He slipped his arm between my legs to cover my hand with his.
He slid his mouth up my throat and nipped at my ear. “Relax. Keep going and just listen to my voice.”
Obediently I leaned my head back onto his shoulder and closed my eyes again, basking in the feel of his stubbled cheek drifting over my throat as his fingers moved comfortably with mine.
“Do you remember that first night in your apartment?”
I nodded. How could I forget?
“Do you remember how I laid you down? How I tasted you?”
My fingers moved a little faster, applied a little more pressure as I recalled his mouth. The hot wet of it. The delicacy of his tongue. The deftness of his fingers.
“You tasted so good, Skylar.” Brandon trailed his nose around the shallow lines of my skin, around my ear, which he bit again lightly, causing me to moan. “So fucking sweet. I could have eaten you all damn night, baby.”
My hips jerked against our hands as he added his own pressure, broad fingers moving with mine.
“Do you want to hear what I really wanted to do to you?”
I melted against his body, lost in the rhythm of our hands and the sound of his voice. Unable to do anything but hum in approval.
“I wanted to tear the rest of your clothes off, Skylar,” he told me as his other hand rested comfortably over my right breast, kneading it softly and causing my nipples to rise. “I wanted to run my tongue over every inch of this beautiful body.”
“Mmmm,” I groaned, thrusting against our hands, which were at this point more controlled by his movements than mine.
The hand on my breast trailed its fingers around the curve and back to the nipple, which he pinched lightly and tugged. He pinched it again, this time a little harder, causing me to jerk.
“You like that, baby?”
His teeth clenched my earlobe, this time harder to match the pleasurable pain he was inflicting on my breast. I was suddenly so close.
“I wanted to fuck you so hard, Skylar.” Brandon’s voice now shook slightly.
I could feel his hard length pressing into my back. It only pushed me closer to the edge.
“I wanted to feel every part of you, with nothing in between us—absolutely nothing, baby. I wanted to feel you shake and squeeze me with that gorgeous body of yours. I wanted to make you come. And come. And...come!”
With the repetition of his last words, which were really more like commands, and a small grunt of his own, Brandon pushed my limp hand aside to take full control of the rhythm.
“Oh, Jesus CHRIST, BRANDON!” I cried as every muscle in my body seized.
I launched onto my toes, shoving back against him. The hand at my breast dropped to anchor my waist while I fell apart.
“That’s it, baby, that’s it,” Brandon purred as he softened his touch, rubbing out the remainder of my orgasm while I shook. “Let it come. Let it go.”
Stricken in his arms, I quivered for several more seconds until I slouched backward, weak and noodle-like. But he wasn’t finished yet.
Brandon stood up, holding me under my elbows while he rotated us around so that I was facing the table with him behind me. He pushed a few of the inventions out of the way, then gently pushed me down so that I was lying on the hard surface, my face turned to one side with my eyes still closed.
“All right. Stop thinking about what I wanted to do. I want you to think about what I’m doing to you right now.” Brandon’s deep voice rumbled against my shoulder as his hand stroked my back, down over my ass and back up. “Imagine yourself, bent over this table, my cock hard between your legs. You make me so fucking hard, Skylar. I swear to God, I’m going to tear this beautiful body in two.”
I groaned, unable to keep the noise in as his words penetrated my orgasm-soaked daze. Vaguely I registered the brief absence of him as I heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper. A second or two later, his warmth returned.
“God, you’re so ready for me, baby,” he said over my shoulder, his long length teasing me until I thought I would literally scream for more. His hand drifted over my ass, his fingers toying playfully over my other opening.
“One day I’m going to fuck you here, too,” he said, his voice vibrating against my ear, which he nipped again, causing my sharp intake of breath. “That’s a promise, Red.”
His fingers teased me there a bit more before drifting to the side to take a fuller handful of flesh as he pressed himself slightly farther inside me. I gasped at the fullness.
“Are you ready for me, Red?” Brandon rumbled above. “Do you want it?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Say it,” he said, sliding a bit—but only a bit—into me before tortuously pulling out again.
His hand continued to knead at my ass, causing me to groan involuntarily against the countertop, both in ecstasy and frustration.
“Ah, Brandon!” I moaned.
“Say it, baby,” he demanded behind me. “Beg me for it.”
I pressed my forehead against the table and braced my hands on the countertop, pushing back against him, trying to force him in. But he resisted, and just kept up the excruciatingly slow teasing. God, I wanted him so badly. More than I had ever wanted anything.
“Please,” I moaned as I pushed back again. “Please, I want you in me.”
“All right, hush now,” Brandon said against my ear as his big body covered me completely.
He slipped his other hand around to play with my clit, quickly bringing me to the edge yet again while he slid in, one excruciatingly slow inch at a time. He didn’t move immediately, but gave me a few moments to adjust to his size. He wasn’t small, that was for sure. But as ready as I was for him, I didn’t need time to adjust.
He started to move.
“Do you remember?” he whispered gruffly.
My hips started to push back of their own accord since I apparently had no control over any of my body’s reactions. I gripped the table and moaned.
“Do you remember?” Brandon asked again, this time more sharply. “What I did to you
tonight? How I fucked you hard against that wall, and then made you come apart in my arms?”
“Ummmm, yessss,” I hissed as he thrust deeper.
“Should I do it again, Skylar?”
The hand on my ass gave it a brief slap, then cupped one cheek roughly to leverage himself even deeper. I clawed at the table—for release or escape, I wasn’t quite sure. He was unrelenting, pummeling harder and harder, offering increasingly dirtier suggestions of what he wanted to do to all parts of me. Rather than alarming me, the ideas only turned me on even more, sending me toward yet another orgasm with every flick, every shove.
“Jesus!” I panted. “Oh, God, uhhh, Brandon, I’m…so…close!”
He rammed even harder, clutching my ass with one hand, continuing the delicious rhythm with his other, clasping my pelvis between them like I was one of his power tools.
“AAaaah!” I screamed as my body began to convulse and tighten around him. “I’m…oh, shit, I’m coming!”
“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged.
His voice barely betrayed a break in his controlled facade. But as I fell apart, he did too.
“Fuck, Skylar, FUCK!” he cried, thrusting in one, two, three more times before he fell heavily over my quaking body. His face buried in my hair as we both shook together, finally finding our mutual release.
We lay there, his body covering mine, for what might have been a few minutes or an hour. I really couldn’t tell.
“I don’t know what gets into me when I’m around you, Red. I’m like a goddamn teenager again, ready to go at it anytime, anyplace.”
With a kiss on the back of my neck, Brandon pushed up. He turned to dispose of his condom and wash his hands in a sink in a corner. I turned around so I could admire him again.
Brandon turned back and met my frank stare with a smirk. “See something you like, Red?”
I didn’t stop ogling. “Actually, yeah. You do pretty well in your birthday suit, Mr. Sterling.”
His smirk intensified as he returned to my side and leaned casually against the counter, making no move to cover himself. He was clearly confident in his body. I, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so blasé.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked sharply as I retrieved my clothes from the floor.
I stood up, clasping my shirt to my body. “Um, just getting dressed.”
I could feel the flush rising up my body, which only intensified with the knowledge that I didn’t have my clothes on to hide its spread. Brandon reached out and yanked the shirt out of my hands and tossed it back onto the floor.
“Did you really think I was done with you yet?”
With a quick, graceful movement, he caught me by the backs of my legs and lifted me to straddle his waist. Before I could speak, he captured my mouth with a deep, languid kiss until I was breathless. Suddenly the fact that I was completely naked didn’t matter so much anymore.
“I told you, Red. Like a goddamn teenager.”
And with that, he turned and carried me back down to his bedroom, where he continued to command my body well into the night.
24
I woke up the next morning tucked into soft, white warmth. The few hours I’d slept had been blissful, considering that Brandon’s bedding consisted of a massive down comforter, multiple down pillows, and the softest cotton sheets I’d ever touched. Bright sunlight flashed through a row of bay windows next to the bed, through which I could see the snow-topped trees flashing gold in the early morning light.
I rolled onto my back and stared up at a box-beam ceiling. The sleek, silver alarm clock on the nightstand read 6:30 a.m. I had slept barely four hours. I was also sore, but in the best possible way.
The door to the en suite bathroom opened, and Brandon strode out, fully dressed in navy suit pants and white-and-blue gingham shirt that made his eyes pop. I smiled and received a heart-stopping grin in response. He walked to where I lay and leaned down for a kiss. I was immediately engulfed in his fresh scent. It was something he put in his hair, I realized, that carried that unique almond aroma.
“Morning, beautiful,” Brandon said as he stood back up.
He walked into a walk-in closet that looked about the size of my living room. I sat up, holding the sheets to my still-naked body, and peered to where he was selecting a tie. After he found one he liked, a light blue with a paisley pattern, he sat down on the bed. The man was apparently a fox at all hours of the day, with maybe four hours of sleep. Seriously out of my league.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Brandon said as he looped a Windsor knot. “I have a meeting in Toronto at ten, so I have to get going. You should go back to sleep, stay until whenever. You could be here when I get back. Like this.”
He waggled his eyebrows, dimples on full display, and I giggled. His gaze roved openly, taking in all of the curves and parts of my body not covered by the sheet.
“You have incredible hair, you know that?”
I pulled a bedraggled lock off my shoulder and examined it critically. “Sure, sure. Like Carrot Top.”
Brandon batted my hand away.
“Stop,” he ordered. “It’s the color of a damn sunset. There are about a million different shades of red and yellow and orange in here.”
“All the color varieties of orange juice,” I proclaimed, but closed my mouth when Brandon frowned.
“I said stop,” he said. “Do you always have such a hard time taking compliments?”
I shrugged. “Well, I am a quarter Jewish.”
Brandon grabbed one of the goose-down pillows and swiftly whacked me in the head.
“Aaah!” I shrieked. “You stop!”
He only whacked me again and then proceeded to reach under the sheets and tickle me mercilessly.
“No!” I yelled in between whoops of laughter. “That’s…not…fair!” I glanced at the clock again. It was almost six forty-five. “Aren’t you going to be late? What time is your flight?”
“Why, you wanna get rid of me?” Brandon quirked his mouth shyly as he sat back up and finished tugging the knot into place. “Don’t worry about it. The plane’s on standby at Logan.”
“Oh, the plane,” I echoed.
Brows furrowed, Brandon kissed me again gently.
“Skylar, I won’t make a big thing of it because I know it makes you uncomfortable—no,” he said when I opened my mouth to argue. “I know it does. All I’m saying is that while my wealth isn’t all of my life, it is part of it. I shouldn’t have to hide it.”
I stared at the sheets, flexing my toes up at the bottom to tent the covers. “I just don’t ever want you to think I like you for your money.”
Brandon squeezed my hand. “I think you’ve made that point pretty clear. I hear FLS got a really nice donation last week.”
I blushed and yanked the covers over my head. “I’m sorry,” I said from under my tent, though I wasn’t. Not really.
“You know, half the lawyers at Sterling Grove donate their time there.”
“I know. Kieran told me.”
“You could do the same if you worked for me too.”
I popped out. “I already turned that job down. I certainly can’t go back now that I’m sleeping with a freaking name partner.”
“Like there’s no nepotism at Harvard, land of the legacy student,” Brandon scoffed. “How many of your classmates have jobs waiting for them at Daddy’s firm?”
I didn’t need to answer; we both knew he was right.
“So, tell me, Red, what’s the difference between that and having your boyfriend set you up, huh?”
“Well, for one thing, no one says the partner’s son got there by sleeping with the boss!”
“Bah, no one’s going to want to get on the bad side of the boss’s girl,” he said with a dismissive wave. “No one would give a shit.”
“I disagree,” I said, hugging a pillow to my chest. “If you’re the boss’s kid, people will think you’re a spoiled brat, but at least people might assume you’ve
got the genetic goods to prove yourself. Me, they’ll just think I whored myself into the job. You know they would.”
“Goddamn it!” Brandon gritted through his teeth as he smacked a hand into the comforter. “I’m getting really tired of hearing you refer to yourself like that. Accepting a small gift from me from time to time doesn’t make you a prostitute, Skylar, it just makes you my girlfriend!”
“Brandon, a job is not a gift. And neither is a trip to Paris or a thirty-thousand-dollar necklace!”
“So, we’re back to this again?” He scowled. “You’re determined to make it as difficult as possible, aren’t you?”
“I just need to get a job myself, that’s all.”
Brandon stood up and walked to the window, slammed his hand against the pane, and then whirled back around to face me. “For the record, Red, I wanted to hire you before I had even met you.”
I toyed with the edge of the sheets. “I know.”
He sighed. “Is it always going to be like this? Fighting and fucking? Making love and getting piss mad at each other?”
I pressed my lips together and shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not exactly known for being able to hold my temper.” I pointed at my hair. “Redhead. Cliché, I know.”
Brandon rolled his eyes, but gave a small smile. “See, that’s what I’m talking about. I want to hire you because you have the makings to be a brilliant attorney. You’re smart, you’re fearless, and you care about what you do, unlike most of the sharks at that place. You’d be an asset, I know it.”
“Thank you,” I murmured. “I…that means a lot, coming from you.”
He crossed back to the bed and sat down, taking my hand in his. “So come work for me.”
My heart dropped again. Why couldn’t he drop this? “Brandon, can’t you see why that’s a bad idea? Really?”
He pressed his thumb into the center of my palm, then curled his big hand around mine and squeezed. He exhaled, long and hard.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “I guess so. I just…I just want you close.” He shook his head. “Damn. It’s my loss.”