Break Me

by Meagan Brandy

  I’m on the edge of addictive insanity, wicked decisions, and life-changing trials.

  And I’m ready for it.

  If Royce is with me, I’m so ready for it.

  I tear away from him, push against his chest to force him a space away, and lower my naked ass onto his comforter. I scoot until my palms reach his pillow and fall onto my back.

  I don’t cower or cover.

  I lie there, bared to him, body and soul.

  But he’s yet to look.

  His eyes, they hold mine, and then he stands tall, to his full height and right at the edge of his giant bed.

  In a slow, thorough, perusal, his eyes rake over me inch by inch, the muscles in his jaw flexing when they reach my waxed center. Chills run over me, bringing goose bumps to the surface when his tongue slips out to wet the corner of his mouth.

  His eyes snap to mine, a raw, rush of possession swimming within them.

  “This is my bed, Tink. My room,” he rasps. “You look damn good in it.”

  “Want to know how I feel in it?”

  He nods, the muscles of his arms flexing.

  “Lonely.”

  A quick laugh bursts from him and I grin, settling into the pillow more.

  “Strip for me.”

  His head falls back slightly, his teeth pulling in the plumpest part of his bottom lip. “What will you be doing while I’m doing that?”

  “Anything you want.”

  He groans, his hand falling to the bulge in his jeans and squeezing, eyes lowering to the neediest part of me.

  He doesn’t have to say it, the way he grips himself, the change in his breathing, says it all.

  I pull my knee up slightly, gliding the side of my hand along my breastbone in the timidest of touches, more of a graze, to warn my body of what’s to come, and only go lower from there.

  I slide my hand down my stomach, slowly circling my piercings, and when my fingertips reach my bare pussy, they pause, lightly gliding back and forth.

  His mouth is open, eyes dark, and when he realizes I’ve stopped, they pop up to mine with an angry flare.

  I pop a brow and fight a grin.

  He tips his head, raising one right back, and wastes no time unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders, his tan, tattooed skin stirring even more heat inside me.

  I lower my fingers to my clit and push down with two fingers, swirling and adding more and more pressure, the sight of his naked chest, strong, flexing abs and ink working wonders.

  I lick my lips and his hands fall to his pants, unbuckling and unzipping with a deliberate, snail-like pace, but I’m here for it.

  It’s a perfect lead-up to the grand prize.

  His jeans disappear, the tip of his cock straining to get free of his briefs. He’s hard and ready and I’m wet and needy.

  I slide my hands farther, open my legs wider, and watch him trail my fingers as they disappear inside me.

  He moans and then his boxers are gone.

  All that’s left in front of me is him, thick and solid. Aching.

  My other hand comes down to join in on the fun, and I slowly pump in and out of myself while my free fingers rub and press against my clit.

  My stomach muscles tighten, my eyes zoned in on his cock, and when it bobs in the air, my pussy clenches.

  His knee comes up, planting onto the mattress and I gasp, swirl faster, drive my fingers deeper.

  Another knee and I’m panting, and then he’s crawling up my body, his lips gliding along my leg, kissing across my thigh until he’s gently biting into my knuckles.

  My hands fly up, clamping on to his head, and his tongue takes their place.

  I thought I’d be nervous or embarrassed, but I’m neither of those things.

  The last thing I want to do is hide from him, miss anything this night has to offer.

  I push up into him. “Make me come,” I pant.

  He doesn’t deny me.

  He growls and sucks, licks and pulls, and then his lips close around my clit, and he twirls his tongue, sucking at the same time. My legs begin to shake.

  He grasps my thighs and slides around to my ass. He squeezes, rolling my hips as if I were riding him, and a liquid fire builds inside me.

  “Damn I—” I moan. “I need to — oh my god right there,” I gasp, my head driving into the pillow, my back flying off of the bed and now it’s me rocking my hips. Chasing. My body seizes, but he doesn’t let up, his warm tongue continues to dance along me and I can’t hold it in.

  I cry into the air, and he growls against me.

  I grip his face, hooking my legs around his sides, and tug.

  He flies up, like I wanted, and slams his mouth to mine, his dick pressing on my still throbbing clit and sliding against it.

  I taste myself on his lips and it serves as an aphrodisiac, heating me to the core and leaving me aching for more.

  “I’m gonna take you now,” he promises. “While you’re drippin’ for me. Hear me, baby, once I slide in, it’s gone. Regret doesn’t allow for a redo.”

  My legs fall open in response and I reach down, gripping his cock in my palm.

  He groans, his eyes squeezing shut, and I shift, positioning him at my entrance.

  Creases pull at his forehead. “I’m not small, baby girl. This is gonna hurt.”

  “Then make it hurt good.”

  He groans, twitching in my palm, and then he pulls it up, intertwining our fingers together as he begins to connect our bodies.

  He’s bare, allowing nothing between us and it’s exactly how I want him.

  Raw. Unconcealed.

  He pushes in slow, slipping back a tiny bit with each short thrust.

  My muscles tighten, and he lowers his lips to mine, kissing me slowly, and I wrap my arms around him, begging for more.

  He gives it to me in one long and slow drive.

  I wince and he pushes his hips into me, pinching my nipple as his tongue takes over my mouth.

  He begins to move in and out and at first, it stings, but as his rhythm switches, his breathing growing labored, my body welcomes him. The pain fades and all that’s left is us.

  “There we go, baby. You’re open for me now.” A small smile curves his lips and he sits up, his knees spread slightly as he holds me by the hip, grinding me into him as he pulls in and out of me. “Now, bring those legs up, nice and tight.” He moans, releasing one of my hands so he can hold his body up for a better position.

  I do as he asks, and oh my god!

  He’s deeper.

  His rough palms slide along my stomach, nearly reaching my throat and holding me down so my back stays flat on the mattress.

  His fingers spread wide, biting into my skin and I moan, clenching around him.

  “Pinch those nipples for me, yeah?” he rasps, his head falling back as he pumps faster, but when I do as he says, a cried moaning leaves me his head snaps back.

  “She likes a little pain,” he murmurs, flexing inside me, and I squeeze him back.

  His hands fall back to my hips and he grows wilder, hungrier and I might be bruising my nipples I’m pulling so tight, but god, I can’t stop.

  My breathing picks up, my eyes closing, and I tug and twist at them.

  Royce’s nose is pushing me out of the way seconds later and he bites down, sending me into a tailspin.

  I clasp my arms around his neck and he falls forward, his weight on me as he pumps into me with full, long strokes.

  I start to shake, and he moans, nipping at my neck, kissing at my throat and then his lips command mine.

  “Kiss me while you come, Tink.”

  I do and he twitches with me, the pleasure perfect and explosive.

  As he starts to come down, his eyes find mine, so tender that my chest grows tight.

  Minutes pass of us simply staring at each other, and then I’m on my side beside him, in his bed. Under his covers.

  My hands glide along the thick, expensive material of his comforter. “Black on b
lack. I could have guessed as much.”

  “Like my soul.” His lips run along my collarbone.

  I grin into the night. “Like your eyes while you fucked me.”

  “Mm,” he moans. “You said fuck again.”

  I laugh and his head lifts.

  “I didn’t fuck you, by the way,” he tells me. “I stole you.”

  My brows jump teasingly. “Stole me?”

  “Yeah. You don’t belong to you anymore.”

  My throat grows thick as I stare at the boy beside me. “Is that right?”

  He nods. “You belong to me and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

  My blood runs warm, my chest squeezing. “I think I’m okay with that.”

  “Wouldn’t matter if you weren’t.”

  I laugh, my head falling to the side and he grins, crawling on top of me.

  His lips skate along my throat, and when he reaches my mouth, he smiles, a softness in his gaze he’s yet to share but can’t or chooses not to hide.

  His hand trails over my breast, and he grins when my nipples pebble for him. “Lie down, baby girl. Let me show you what you do to me.”

  There’s so much I want to say to him right now, but none of it would be enough to convey what I’m feeling, so instead of trying, I do as he wishes, and he does what he says.

  Twice.

  Chapter 29

  Brielle

  Royce took a few calls, slipped from his bed long enough to bring back food, but other than that we didn’t leave.

  Now, it’s a little after nine in the morning, and a full thirty-ish hours later that I’m slipping from Royce’s room and down the stairs. I almost make it to the door when a throat clears, causing my muscles to lock up on me.

  My head snaps toward the sound and I suddenly have a desperate need to disappear.

  Not one, not two, but all of the Brays are scattered around in the kitchen.

  Raven and Maddoc lean against the counter, coffee cups in hand. Captain has Victoria wrapped up while she stirs something on the stovetop. Zoey sits at the bar, holding on to the little pink wolf and then there’s Rolland, the boys’ dad.

  He’s sitting beside Zoey, his new grandson in his arms.

  They must have just gotten home, and here I am... killing their morning.

  “Well.” My shoulders fall. “This is embarrassing.”

  Raven is the first to crack, and then low chuckles follow around the room.

  My face might be bright red right now, not that I’d know it. I’m too mortified to tell.

  Maddoc reaches over Raven, pulling another coffee mug from the cupboard, and holds it out for me.

  “Oh... no, I... just no.” I shake my head, spin on my heels and yelp, my hand flying to my chest.

  Royce grins in front of me. “Scared?”

  “Dying inside,” I hiss, but not in a whisper. I know he’d only say it louder, so I let them hear and another round of laughs follow.

  “Good. Now next time you won’t try to sneak out.”

  “I wasn’t sneaking. I was, you know, quietly leaving.”

  “Sneaking.” He pushes closer and good god, he’s shirtless, and oh look, my bra’s in my hand. I stuff it beneath my shirt—more laughs.

  Royce crosses his arms. “So, did you not catch how I said ‘next time’?”

  “What—” I tilt my head. “Yeah, I did...”

  His head tugs back, a look of pure confusion on his face.

  I’m pretty sure I hear a muffled ‘oh boy’ that can only come from his dad.

  “And nothin’?” He crosses his arms.

  A laugh bubbles out of me. “Do you really think I’d be here if I wasn’t positive this wouldn’t end here?”

  “Yes.”

  This time, I’m laughing with his family and his glare snaps their way.

  I take a deep breath and close the small gap between us.

  He looks down his nose at me, a small frown in place, but once my body is near his, he can’t help himself, and his arms wrap me in.

  “You’re adorably wrong, Playboy.”

  His hold tightens, I fight the sigh that tries to escape.

  “And you’re annoyingly naïve if you think you’re walking out that door right now, so park that ass, Tink, and get ready for some Brayshaw breakfast.” He releases me and walks into the kitchen.

  When I glance back, everyone has moved on, no one is staring, and all are going about their normal routine. Reaching beyond each other, shifting out of the other’s way.

  One grabs the milk, the other the bread, one a pan.

  Raven pours the coffee and Victoria pulls out the silverware.

  As I dare to inch closer, it’s Raven who spins toward me with a brow raised and hidden wink. “Coffee?”

  “Hot Chocolate?”

  Her grin is wide and instant, her eyes tight and something else I can’t note. They shift to Royce, to the glass set out on the counter that must have been for him, something hot and steaming already inside it, and drops the one Maddoc pulled out for me directly beside it, a low and self-murmured, “perfect” following.

  “Take a seat, Brielle.” Rolland smiles softly. “I hope you like crepes.”

  “It’s my first time making them, so if they suck, lie to me.” Cap grins.

  “Oooh, Daddy!” Zoey’s little hands come up to her mouth. “You want her to tell a lie? That’s not honest! That’s bad.”

  Cap’s mouth opens, but he looks to Victoria for help, and she sweeps in with ease.

  “ZoZo, remember how I used to eat all the sweets you wanted to share with me, even though sweets aren’t my favorite?” She smiles at her daughter.

  Zoey nods, pushing her blonde curls from her eyes. “Um, because you wanted to be kind? Make me happy?”

  “Exactly.” Victoria’s eyes shine. “It’s Daddy’s first time trying something new, and he needs encouragement, so instead of saying something that could make him sad, we would find a way to say something that might make him smile and not feel so bad if we didn’t like them. Get it?”

  Zoey nods and turns to Rolland. “Papa, it’s nice when you cut my strawberries little even though I’m big and like to hold and bite them.”

  Rolland’s mouth drops open, and then the room erupts with laughter.

  I smile at the scene, and hesitantly take the seat at Rolland’s side, smiling down at baby Phoenix in his little basketball striped onesie.

  “Point taken, Zo.” Rolland kisses her head. “Papa won’t cut your strawberries anymore.”

  Zoey smiles, kicking her feet and looks to Captain, who winks at her.

  “Okay, here goes nothing.” Captain sighs.

  “I’m sure they’ll be great.” I turn his way. “The only real trick is to make sure they’re evenly thin.”

  All eyes cut to me.

  I glance around the room but settle on Cap as his grin grows.

  “You know how to make crepes?” He’s already wiping his hands on a towel and stepping away from the stove.

  “I... I mean, yeah. I was sort of the maid and the chef of the house the last couple years.”

  He leans across the counter, tosses up the spatula, and catches it on the opposite end, thrusting it toward me.

  I look to Royce, who grins from his brother to me.

  Well, screw it.

  I hop up, my bra still tucked under my top, and cook breakfast for not one Bray, but every single one.

  Royce

  “So she cooks and has a green thumb.” Victoria drops into the seat beside me, giving her a perfect view of Brielle and Zoey in the garden.

  I scoff a laugh. “She’s got it all, VicVee.”

  Victoria nods, slowly swinging her head to mine and waiting for me to look over.

  “Does she?” She raises a brow.

  I turn away, smiling at Zoey when she tucks Brielle’s hair back and tries to stick a little wilted flower they cut from the stem in it.

  I know what Victoria’s asking.

&nbs
p; Am I hers?

  If Brielle has everything, does that mean she has me?

  Is that even a fucking question?

  She’s stirred the corners of my sleeping soul.

  I lick my lips, meeting Victoria’s brown eyes. “Is it weird if I can’t remember when she didn’t?”

  Victoria smiles, shaking her head. “Not even a little bit.”

  Raven joins us with my nephew in her arms, and Victoria jumps up to hold him so she can ease herself into the cushiony seat. She winces, but once she’s settled, reaches for her son again.

  Brielle laughs in the distance, and the sound echoes through my body, wrapping around my bones.

  The three of us spot Captain walking up to them, and he points toward the trampoline.

  Zoey smiles, tosses her little shovel and runs, but Brielle, she drops a hidden smile to the grass, her eyes peaking up and hitting mine for a quick, shared secret.

  Yeah, baby, I’m thinking of it too.

  Slowly, hesitantly, she turns away, following the two to the giant toy, and with every step she takes, my lungs constrict.

  A small smile graces her flawless lips, and with a bit of a hop, she joins my brother and niece inside the netting, jumping and attempting to dunk a ball in the little hoop attached to the top.

  She fails, but still she laughs.

  She’s fucking stunning.

  And perfect.

  Happy.

  Can I keep her that way?

  I’ll kill myself trying.

  She glances toward Brielle. “I like her. She’s—”

  “Bass Bishop’s little sister?”

  Raven shakes her head with a playful scoff. “It has nothing to do with that and you know it, but it is hard to explain. It’s like...” Raven trails off, searching for the right words.

  “Her existence is comforting?” Victoria tries and Raven’s eyes slide to her. “I don’t feel on edge when she’s around, worried or a need to watch my back, watch what I say.” Both of them look to me. “How is that possible when we’re still getting to know her? Does that make us fools?”

  I shake my head, my gaze moving back to the girl of the hour, the night, the fucking century. “Nah, ‘cause that’s the same shit I noticed the day I met her. I thought then I was being fooled, and even more so after the second day, but I know for fucking certain, this is her. She’s soft, but not in a weak way. Kind but not to trick. Generous but not for clout.” I sigh, my body relaxing in the seat. “Loyal but without hatred, trusting but not blind.”