by Lauren Dane
'Stand up,' he whispered.
She did and stood over him so he could hook his fingers into the elastic at her waist and pull her tights down over her legs. Her skirt she held high, bunched at her waist.
Brandon had to wrestle with the stretchy tights to get them all the way off, and Leah laughed. He tipped his face up to her as he pulled, laughing too.
Love swept over her in a wave so fierce it would have sent her to join him on her knees had she not grabbed his shoulder. The white hum that always tickled her ears when he was submitting to her, no matter how subtly, for a moment became a roar. Leah gasped, and Brandon's grin faded.
His brow furrowed. 'Leah?'
She shook her head. His hands on the backs of her thighs steadied her. So did the kiss he pressed to just above each knee. Her skirt had fallen on one side when she grabbed his shoulder, and Brandon pushed it aside to reach her flesh.
She loved him. This was not some schoolgirl crush or something to do to pass the time. He wasn't a man she put up with because it was easier than breaking it off. She'd chosen Brandon six months ago, and she still chose him, every day.
Leah undid the buttons at the front of her skirt and let it fall off her hips. It caught briefly on him and then fell to the floor when he moved. She stepped out of it, still in her panties and soft turtleneck sweater.
Her nipples peaked through the lace of her bra and showed clearly through her sweater. Brandon didn't miss that, and his eyes gleamed again. He put his hands on her ass and pulled her forwards against his mouth. One hand tugged the cotton to the side and then, oh, fuck yes, he'd found her with his tongue and lips.
Her grip bore down on his shoulder, her nails digging into his skin, but Brandon didn't even flinch. He moaned into her. He licked her dit and sucked gently until Leah's hips bucked forwards.
She wouldn't be able to stand for this, literally unable to keep upright while he ate her. She needed to sit, to lean, to lie down. But for now it felt too good for her to move as he spread her pussy with his fingers and nibbled her clit with teasing strokes of his tongue and lips.
It was rare they went for more than a day or two without making love, and it had been a helluva lot longer than that. Leah's cunt contracted in the first orgasmic spasm by the time Brandon had pulled her panties off. When he bent back to blow on her, small, steady puffs, Leah couldn't hold back the groan of frustration.
She looked down at him, and then he was on his feet. Stretching up, up, up, he towered over her. His hands tangled in the hem of her sweater and pulled it off over her head. When his mouth crushed hers, Leah was already wrapping her arms around his neck and jumping into his embrace. He caught her easily, his hands under her ass, and walked her to the pulled-out couch that screamed in protest when they sank onto it.
His cock, still shielded by cotton, rubbed her belly. He rolled them both until she straddled him. Mouths locked, tongues stabbing and dancing, they both worked to get him naked. Panting, Leah pulled back to ride his thighs and reach for his delicious erection. It leapt in her hand and she drew gentle, teasing fingers down the length until she reached his balls.
And she stopped.
Brandon stopped too, his every muscle tense. He licked his lips, his gaze going first to where her hand cupped his balls and then to her face. Under her touch, his skin grew hotter. He wasn't helpless in her grip, but they could both pretend he was. 'Do you still want to taste me?'
His tongue crept out again to swipe over the mouth she'd come to crave with an addict's intensity. 'Yes.' 'Well then,' Leah murmured, 'I guess it's your lucky day.'
She crawled up his body and sat on his chest, her knees next to his ears. Brandon was already holding her hips and urging her forwards until her cunt hovered perfectly over his face, but Leah didn't lower herself close enough for him to lick her. Not yet.
So much of what they did was based on trust and anticipation, she wanted to relish this just a moment longer. From this position there was no question who was in control. She could move, writhe, even grind herself onto his face if she wanted to. But for now she only teased his lips with the fluff of her curls.
Brandon could have forced her down, or lifted his head to reach her, but he liked the game as much as she did. Sometimes, based on how easy it was to get him erect and panting in her ear, Leah wondered if he didn't love it even more. He waited, each breath catching in his throat as his fingers flexed on her hips.
Without a headboard to grasp, Leah had to be satisfied with bracing herself on the back of the couch. Her hands sank into the padded fabric a little too deeply to make this comfortable, but in the next moment she barely noticed as she shifted her hips to brush her cunt along Brandon's lips.
He was ready for her. His tongue found her seam and parted it, darting inside to taste her just as he'd said he wanted. With a shudder, Leah dropped her head forwards, eyes closed as pleasure made her blind.
Brandon found her clit and sucked gently as she rocked her body back and forth. She set the pace, but he kept up. His hands roved her ass and thighs as Leah moved on his mouth.
Her thighs trembled as Brandon's clever tongue teased her clit towards orgasm. He knew just how to circle and stroke her, just how much pressure to give and when to take it away. Pleasure had taken over and stolen her control. Her body moved on its own, and Brandon didn't falter even when her hips pumped against him.
She thought about his cock as she rode his mouth. How hard it was, how thick. How it would feel inside her, in just a minute or two, just as soon as she came . . .
The knock on the door didn't register right away. When it came again, Leah's low moan strangled her. She froze, her body tipping on the edge of pleasure's precipice, so close to coming she couldn't believe she hadn't already fallen over the edge. 'Bingo?'
Shit. Caroline, Brandon's mother, was knocking on the door while her son . . . wasn't stopping . . .
Leah's fingers gouged deep dents in the back of the couch, and now she pushed with her hands to move herself off Brandon's face. If she ever needed a reminder he was strong enough to never obey her if he didn't want to, she didn't want it now. His hands gripped her hips and kept her still, her cunt hovering over his mouth.
'. . . yeah,' he said after a moment, sounding sleepy.
Don't open the door, Leah prayed. The room was small and everything in it was in full view of the doorway. Don't open it . . . 'Sorry to wake you, honey, but I wanted to remind you both to toss your laundry into the basket in the laundry room, OK? I'll throw a load in tomorrow morning.'
Leah's heart was pounding, but when Brandon spoke, damn him, he let his mouth continue working its magic on her pussy. 'OK, thanks.'
Shit. She was going to come at any second, and not even the spectre of his mother listening outside the door could stop it. If he said another word, she was going to go over, go up in flames . . .
'Goad night, honey!' Caroline chirped as prettily as the birds she'd BeDaizled onto her sweatshirts. 'Good night, Leah. See you in the morning!'
Leah didn't know where she found the voice to reply, but she did. As the creak of the basement stairs announced Caroline's departure, Brandon set back to work with that wicked tongue.
The mood should've been broken by them almost being caught like a pair of naughty teenagers, but Brandon didn't seem to care. Leah did, or she would when she came down from this sexual high. For the moment all she could do was ride out the waves of pleasure turning her into a mass of boneless, quivering jelly.
Blinking, her muscles still twitching, Leah rolled onto her back next to him. Despite the interruption, the orgasm had been strong enough to knock her senseless for a minute. She came back to reality when Brandon put his hand between her legs, cupping her.
She looked at his smug grin and frowned as she sat up. Leah looked down at Brandon's prick, tapping his belly without shame. Obviously, he wasn't as disturbed as she was.
'I love it when you come on my mouth,' he said as serenely as if dirty talk fell from his lips
every day.
Which, she had to admit, it often did. Nobody would ever guess it to look at him with that choir-boy face, but Brandon was as much a champ at talking about what he wanted to do as he was at doing it. Usually it melted her butter in a huge way, but not at themoment. It was hard to be annoyed in the aftermath of that orgasm, though, and even more difficult with that gorgeous cock staring at her.
Brandon got up on one hand to put the other on the back of her neck and pull her in for a kiss. She let him, tasting the remnants of her pleasure on his lips. Somehow she found herself on his lap and, since Leah wasn't a woman who let go of control, she had to admit she'd put herself there.
His cock rubbed her belly as she moved, but only for a second before she'd reached between them to guide him inside her. Brandon moaned into her mouth as she sank onto his cock all the way. Her cunt convulsed around him, and she moaned too. But softer, biting it back, ever mindful of where they were.
'You feel so good,' Brandon said.
'Shh.'
He blinked and looked at her, then grinned. 'Are you worried?'
She didn't want to talk about it now. Leah put her hand over his mouth, her fingers tight together. His eyes widened for a moment and in the next his hands clamped down hard on her hips as he thrust upwards.
Leah wasn't into many of the scenes most people would think of as representing dominance and submission. She'd had her share of that with the man she'd left just before meeting Brandon. Empty games that had no meaning and never got to the heart of what really aroused her. Not the props and toys, the leather, the cuffs, the floggers, but control and trust.
She and Brandon had been together for six months, testing that control and trust. Learning from each other. Testing the limits.
She'd bound his wrists but never gagged him. Now, her hand covering his mouth, her breath caught as his cock throbbed inside her. Leah stilled, her knees gripping him to prevent him from easily thrusting deeper. He moved once more, then acquiesced to her silent command.
Under her hand, Brandon's mouth was warm and wet. She could feel his lips parted slightly, and the smooth push-pull of his breath. A tiny muffled noise vibrated her palm, but her fingers kept it trapped.
She let her gaze go to the ceiling, as though assessing it, then back at him. A small shake of her head, and he got it. She didn't need to spell it out for him.
Silence.
She moved on him, rocking her hips. She moved slowly, twisting her body on each down stroke to make sure her clit rubbed just right on his belly. In moments her cunt slickened with desire, easing each thrust until they rocked together as smoothly as if they were part of one another.
His hands slid beneath her ass to make it easier for her to move; Leah gripped him with her thighs and locked her ankles to give herself leverage to fuck onto him harder. Faster.
She could have told him to be quiet and assumed he'd do his best, but this . . . this was . . . she wanted to make her own noises at how this made her feel. Under her hand, his mouth opened. His cries leaked out but she held them tight and quiet. Hidden. Secret.
He closed his eyes and leant into her as she fucked him. They moved together. His throat worked as he cried out with each thrust, but her hand kept him locked up tight.
The white-noise buzz filled her ears again. Great, sparkling ripples of ecstasy flooded her, and she bit back her cry as she came.
Brandon shuddered. His teeth pressed her palm and she let go of his mouth to muffle him with her kiss. She took her name from his lips inside her mouth and swallowed it, then came again as he shuddered into climax.
Sweat glued them together, and muscles she hadn't known she was using ached as Leah relaxed into Brandon's arms. He buried his face into her neck, kissing her before just resting. Quiet. She smelt his soap-and-water scent but also the unmistakable aroma of their fucking.
'Guess we'll have to wash the sheets,' he murmured, and she jerked away to look at him, appalled. 'I'm kidding!' She moved off him to hap/skip/jump into the bathroom before she could leave a stain. 'Not funny!'
He followed her and leant in the dooiway while she turned the water on in the shower. 'You really are worried, aren't you?' Leah stepped in before the water was even hot. 'I don't want your parents to think I'm fucking you raw on their pull-out sofa, OK?'
'Not raw.'
She glared, even though with that rumpled hair and just-fucked grin she really wanted to kiss him. 'I'm serious.'
He nodded and stepped into the shower with her. There wasn't nearly enough room for them both, hell, he had to duck just to get under the spray when he was in there alone. But when he tucked her up against him so she could breathe in the familiar, beloved scent of him and the water finally got hot, how could she complain?
'I love you,' Brandon said with the confidence of a man who has no doubt his love mattered. 'And relax, my parents do, too.'
Which was, Leah thought as the steam hid her face from him, a big part of the problem.
Chapter 3
Pale morning light came through the window Dix had left open the night before. Kate stretched and snuggled back against him. He'd put a shirt and his boxers on, which she knew annoyed him when she was in his bed. But his kids were in the house and, with Pickles around, one never knew when he'd have to do something any normal simian could handle.
He stirred against her and she smiled as one of his hands tiptoed up her thigh. She'd put on a pair of his boxers too, with her T-shirt, but it wasn't a barrier he had any trouble getting past. Her cunt bloomed for him as he pressed his wakening cock against her ass.
He pressed closer, kissing the back of her neck, groaning when she reached around and into his boxers to grasp him. Her thumb spread the bead of pre-come around the head of his cock.
The bedroom door swung open. 'Charles, what do want for breakfast? Oh! Oops!' Pickles stood in the doorway and Kate nearly lost her mind.
Damn it, Eve! Don't you knock?' Dix roared as he sat up.
Kate narrowed her eyes at the other woman and asked quietly, 'Where are the girls?'
Eve, not as dumb as she led people to believe, looked caught, like a deer in the headlights. This cheered Kate immensely. The part of her that relished the courtroom, relished devouring an opponent until they were nothing but a stain on the carpet, clicked into place.
They're already gone. Out with friends.' Good.
Kate sat up, not bothering to cover herself. She'd rarely been as angry as she was right then. This little foray into their bedroom was a direct assault and this passive-aggressive bitch needed to be taken down.
A giggle escaped Eve. A fucking giggle. 'I'm sorry! I just forgot. I'm so used to coming and going in my house.' Her perfectly manicured fingers flailed around as she attempted to look frail and upset, which only pissed Kate off more.
Dix started to speak but Kate held her hand out. 'You're a piece of work, you know that? I've been nice. I've been understanding. But I'm not a doormat and you're not going to keep doing this. You knew we were in here. You slept alone, clue number one. A closed door, clue number two. You've been divorced for nine years, clue number three. You're not as stupid as you pretend to be so don't tiy to play me. He might feel guilty but I don't.'
'I'm sorry if you feel that way.' The smirk ruined that little gambit.
Kate shook her head. Amateur. 'Oh the non-apology apology. The domain of the passive-aggressive gigglers like you. Let's get this straight, you're not sorry. You meant to barge in here this way because you still aren't done trying to mark territoiy that hasn't been yours in a very, very long time. Truthfully, though, I don't care one way or the other. You don't matter enough to me.'
Dix rustled around behind her and she knew he was pulling clothes on. To his credit, he'd let her say her piece without interrupting. Moments later he stood behind her, wrapping a flannel shirt around her shoulders, pulling her back against his body. Probably to keep her from knocking Eve out as much as to comfort her.
Pickles flattened her mou
th into a thin line before responding. 'I had no idea you disliked me so intensely. I assure you, there's nothing going on between myself and Charles. We share our memories and our daughters. You've made it clear you're sleeping with him.'
Kate couldn't help herself, she actually guffawed. Wiping her eyes, she cleared her throat. 'Oh, Eve, I know there's nothing between you and Dix. I just want you to knock when you come into a room where I'm sleeping. Now, I'm going into town for groceries which means I need to change clothes so you need to get out.' Satisfied, she turned her back, extricating herself from Dix and began to grab clothes to change into.
'We need to talk. Don't go anywhere. I'll be down in a few minutes.' Dix gently pushed Pickles back and closed the door in her face.
'I'm sorry,' he said, coming back to where she stood, dressing.
'Yep. Heard it. Been there, done that. The T-shirt is worn veiy thin.' Her anger made her brittle, her movements sharp. Her inner shrew was just about to make an appearance and she resented the situation. This was supposed to be her holiday with him. Supposed to be time when she got to know his daughters better. And now, because of Eve, it had turned into something uncomfortable and annoying. If she wanted that, she could have gone to her parents' house.
He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing. 'Darling Kate, your anger makes you magnificently hot. I'm dealing with it right now. Clearly this has gone on far too long. You're right to be angry.'
Unreasonable, yes, but his niceness just pissed her off more. She extricated herself from his embrace and slapped at his grabbing hands until he got the message and backed off. 'Of course I'm right to be angry! Like I need your permission? I can open my own jars and get mad when I want to. That fucking stupid thundertwat you married is lucky I didn't pop her one right in the eye for that comment about how she forgot. Like you two divorced yesterday. She. Is. Poison. Cancer. She's gonorrhoea! A pustule on the anus of a syphilitic maggot! I hate your ex-wife. Because she is useless. Utterly. What an offence to femininity she is.'