by Layla Hagen
One second later, I realized it wasn’t just bra and panties. They were connected by straps of fabric at her sides and at her back.
“How does this thing come off?” I asked. Even to my own ears, I sounded desperate, but I was, and I had no intention of hiding it.
“Buttons,” Isabelle whispered. I counted about five on each side. They were very small and made of silk or something that kept sliding from under my fingers. Why would anyone make something so fucking sexy yet so damn hard to take off? It made no sense. I finally undid all the buttons on her right side before moving to the left one. Despite wanting to get her naked, I enjoyed the process. Isabelle squirmed more with every passing moment.
Once I was done, I gripped one hip, turning her around. Her ass cheeks were taunting me, round and perky. A wide strap of lace covered her crack. I ran two fingers over it before starting to undo the lace buttons at her back.
“Isabelle, this suit or whatever is sexy as hell, but these buttons are killing me.”
“I wanted to drive you crazy,” she confessed.
“You do that every day.”
“I wanted to drive you extra crazy,” she whispered.
“So you chose this on purpose?”
She shrugged one shoulder playfully. “Possibly. Took me a million years to put it on, and all I could think about was how it would feel when you took it off.”
I leaned in, kissing her shoulder, drawing circles with my forefinger around the last button. I hadn’t opened it on purpose, wanting to tease her a little longer.
“And how does it feel?” I asked.
“I soaked my panties through.”
A groan tore from my chest. Pure instinct was driving me now. I wanted to bury myself deep inside her. I yanked her lingerie off, forgetting there was still a button. The fabric tore, and Isabelle gasped.
I whirled her around, capturing her mouth. I wanted to own all her sounds of pleasure, to bury myself so deep inside her that she’d still feel me when I wasn’t here with her. I wanted to mark her. Own her. Pleasure her in every way possible.
Still kissing her, I pushed her backward until she was against a wall. Her hands moved quickly, undoing my belt and jeans zipper. She pushed my pants and boxers down below my ass. Gripping my cock, she pressed it against herself so the head was against her belly, my balls against her pussy.
My breath stuttered. Everything felt so damn intense.
“Isabelle, fuck!”
I checked the back pocket where I’d shoved my wallet with the condom inside. After taking it out, I pushed my pants and boxers all the way down, kicking them away. We walked deeper inside her apartment, reaching the kitchen. She licked her lips, looking up at me from between her eyelashes.
“I want to take off your shirt,” she said.
I held up my arms, enjoying the feeling of her smooth hands moving up the sides of my torso, pushing up the fabric. My cock was now pressing along her entrance. I rocked slowly back and forth, losing my mind when I felt how wet she was. I placed the condom on the kitchen counter, then lifted Isabelle onto it. She yelped, her eyes widening as she propped herself on her palms, regaining her balance.
I spread her legs, and her eyes widened even more. I drew my finger from her navel down to her clit, then even farther down to her entrance. She moaned, parting her thighs to allow me more room. Goose bumps formed on her belly and down to her pussy. Her hair was wild around her shoulders, so long it nearly brushed her nipples.
Leaning in, I pushed her red strands out of the way, drawing the tip of my tongue around her nipple. She pressed her thighs into my sides, as if she’d felt my lick right between her legs.
“Brayden! Please...”
“I’m going to make you come with my mouth, Isabelle. Then I’ll give you my cock. Spread your legs.”
She exhaled sharply, moving her thighs. She claimed she didn’t follow orders or suggestions, but she was gladly obeying me. And I was going to reward her for it. I kissed between her breasts, then down in a straight line to her navel, pushing two fingers inside her.
She gasped, rolling her hips back and forth. When I sucked her clit into my mouth, she exploded and her whole body reacted. One leg jutted out straight, her back arched, and she let out a deep, guttural groan.
“Brayden, Brayden! Oh—”
I blew cold air on her sensitive flesh, then pressed my tongue against it, curling my fingers inside her. I felt her thrash around. Her entire body tensed up.
Focusing on her pleasure was helping me forget about my own needs, at least in that very moment. I was too consumed by her to think about myself. Her moans filled the room, driving me crazy. When she exploded right on my tongue, I gripped my cock, squeezing it tight, holding back my own pleasure. Fuck, she was a sight, coming undone like that on her counter, her elbows wobbling and almost giving away as her head fell back.
I put on the condom quickly. Grabbing her ass, I pulled her to the edge of the counter before lifting her in my arms. She grasped my shoulders, but her legs fell limp at my sides. Her whole body was shaking. I wanted to feel every tremor, hear every gasp. My cock was pressed between us, and I couldn’t wait any longer, not even until we made it to a flat, comfortable surface. I lowered her on my cock. Isabelle gasped, squeezing my shoulders tighter. Pleasure ripped through me with a shocking intensity. My legs almost buckled.
“Fuuuuuck.”
“Brayden, ohhh...” Her voice was barely a whisper. She pulsed around me, squeezing my cock, her head on my shoulder.
“Kiss me,” I said.
She lifted her head slowly, and her sated smile filled me with pride. I was going to get this woman drunk on me. Her lips were soft but desperate, and she kissed me the way I wanted it: fucking dirty. She licked my upper lip, biting my tongue playfully. I crouched on the floor, laying her back on the carpet. I moved over her, not wanting to slide out even for one second.
Her lips curled up. Even through hooded eyes, I knew she wanted to tease me.
“Mr. Clarke, you’re going to have me here, in the middle of my living room?”
Always so sassy!
“We can go to your bedroom if you want.” I pretended to slide out of her, only moving back a few inches before she pressed her thighs against mine, stopping me.
“No!”
I kissed one corner of her mouth, whispering, “You’re as desperate as I am.”
She said nothing, only rolled her hips back and forth, taking me in even deeper, and I lost my train of thought. I lost sight of any goal except bringing her pleasure and chasing my own. Her body felt exquisite against mine. I moved slowly, but only for the first few thrusts. Groaning, I increased my pace.
Shock waves of pleasure pulsed through me, starting from the point where we were connected. I leveled myself on one forearm, looking between us, watching my cock slide in and out of her.
“Fuuuuck.” The sight only intensified the pleasure.
I pushed myself up on my knees, slowing my movements, gripping her hips when she tried to push herself up on her heels to move faster. I wanted to prolong this as much as possible, so I needed to pace myself. Watching her pout in protest chipped away at my determination. I brushed my thumb up and down her clit in slow strokes. Her belly flattened every time. She sucked in a breath, each time sharper, as if the pleasure was becoming more intense. A deep burn pulsed inside me as my orgasm built up slowly. Isabelle shut her eyes tightly, crying out on each thrust, every stroke on her sensitive spot. She was close, but I didn’t want her to come, not yet.
I pulled out slowly. She gasped, blinking as I turned her around on all fours. She glanced over her shoulder at me, pushing her ass toward me.
I kissed her back, palming each ass cheek, smiling against her skin when she growled in protest. I pushed my hips forward, rubbing the tip of my cock against her clit. Her whole body shuddered. She drew her nails across the carpet. Her back curved. A guttural sound filled the room. I slid inside her the next second. If we were on a bed, she
would have thrashed the sheets, perhaps bitten into a pillow. I pressed a hand on her back, needing to keep her at the right angle while I moved in and out. I wanted to hit her G-spot every time, bring her as much pleasure as possible.
“Fuck!” My vision darkened at the corners as heat shot up my spine. I buckled forward, resting my forehead against her back. With one hand, I gripped her waist. I brought my other hand to her clit. I wasn’t being gentle now; my thrusts were hard and relentless. My thighs were doing all the heavy lifting, and the muscles were tiring already. Hell no! I wouldn’t stop until I’d wrung every drop of pleasure out of Isabelle.
When her pussy clenched tight around my cock, I couldn’t hold back my climax any longer. It hit me in waves of pleasure, taking over my entire body until I was barely able to breathe. All my muscles were burning and numb at the same time.
I felt Isabelle going over the edge with me. Her inner muscles tightened even more. She reached back with one hand, pressing her fingernails in my thigh. Her cry filled the room. I groaned, tightening my grip on her waist before my body relaxed gradually, and I slowed the pace of my thrusts.
Isabelle pushed herself upright on her knees, leaning the back of her head on my shoulder. Damn, she was beautiful, surrendering to me like that. Touching her jaw, I turned her face to me, kissing her long and deep. Her breathing was still ragged. A light tremor shook her body. My thrusts were shorter now, just a few inches back and forth. My pelvis brushed her ass cheeks on every move.
My heartbeat regained a somewhat normal rhythm after a few minutes. My thighs weren’t burning anymore. I pulled out, kissing Isabelle’s shoulder.
“No, why did you do that?” she protested. “Get back inside.”
I chuckled. “I need to get rid of the condom.”
We both rose from the carpet, and Isabelle showed me to the bathroom, where we both cleaned up.
“Ugh, this place is so small,” she said after we bumped into each other a second time. There was only one sink and a small shower.
I grinned. “I don’t mind. Gives me the perfect excuse to fondle you—accidentally, of course.”
Isabelle laughed, looking down at her ass. I was patting one cheek with my right hand.
“Since when do you need an excuse?” she teased.
I wiggled my eyebrows in response.
“Come on, let’s get out of here before we hurt ourselves. I think I got a carpet burn.” She laughed, massaging her thigh.
Back in the living room, I looked around with a grin. Our clothes were lying around everywhere. There were still marks on the carpet from our knees, and several marks that looked like Isabelle had scratched it with her fingernails.
I caught her looking at me out of the corner of her eyes, blushing.
“My wild girl,” I teased, grabbing my clothes off the floor and putting them on. Isabelle was still naked.
“Wait, I want to do that,” she exclaimed after I’d zipped up my jeans. She picked up the shirt, smoothing a few wrinkles before sliding it up my arms.
“Why?”
“So I can do this.”
She kissed a trail up my right arm before she covered it with the fabric. Then she did the same with the left one.
“I’ve been dreaming about exploring these arms ever since I watched you play the piano at the party.”
“Just the arms?”
She kissed my chest too, moving from under my neck down in a straight line.
When she was right below my navel, I groaned, already semihard again.
Isabelle looked up, grinning. “Someone’s happy.”
“So fucking happy.”
I lifted her up, kissing her long and deep, pressing her full breasts against my chest. Her nipples turned to pebbles. I couldn’t resist cupping her ass with both hands, pressing her into me. She was mine to touch and explore. Only mine.
She sighed against my mouth, going up to her tiptoes.
I finally tore my lips from hers, staring her straight in the eyes.
“Are you going to put on any clothes?” I asked her.
“No,” she answered innocently. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Wait and see.” I kissed the tip of her nose. It was easy to let my guard down and be myself around Isabelle. Her easy smile and warmth disarmed me in a way I couldn’t understand, but I didn’t want to fight it.
Her hands roamed everywhere as we lay down on the couch.
“You’re tickling me,” I told her between chuckles.
“Oh really? Then I’m going to do it some more.”
I caught her wrists. She pouted. “Hey, I wasn’t done.”
“I know, but you had all the advantage. I didn’t like that. This is more to my liking,” I informed her. I kept her wrists in one hand, skimming the other one to her hips and then to her waist. When my thumb brushed the sides of her breast, Isabelle squirmed, wiggling right over my cock. The shot of pleasure was as unexpected as it was intense. I groaned.
“If you’re going to fondle me, do it properly.”
“I’m not fondling you yet, Isabelle. You’ll know when I do.”
“So what are you doing now?” she challenged. “Just pressing your delicious body against mine with no ulterior motive?” A sly smile spread on her face.
“If I reveal it, it wouldn’t be ulterior, right?”
“Well, I’m not as secretive as you are. I know what I want, and I have no problem owning up to it.” She kept kissing my chest as she spoke. “And I bet I can make you reveal yours in no time.”
“Talking about secrets... how do you want us to tell the band? I can tell them myself, or we can be together.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh... I didn’t think about that.”
“I intend to spend as much time as possible with you until the tour starts, so no hiding. You’re mine. I want them to know that.”
Her lips curled in a wide smile. “Okay. Well, you know the guys best, so it’s your call. But I can’t believe you already want to stake your claim.”
I wanted to do a lot more than that, but I had to start somewhere.
Chapter Ten
Isabelle
The opportunity to tell the band came up a week later when Sasha asked me to stop by the cottage and supervise their live video. She’d handled the one on Saturday and wasn’t pleased with the results.
Brayden and I went there separately so we wouldn’t shock the guys right away, though I suspected Lars was on to us. I arrived later and waited for them in the bar section of the living room. I wasn’t alone for long though. Brayden joined me a few minutes later, all by himself.
We hadn’t exactly planned this step by step, so I figured we’d behave until after we told everyone. I was so wrong. He moved right in front of me, putting both hands on my waist.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
“Kissing you. I’ve missed this sassy mouth.”
I grinned. He’d shown up at my office every evening with Paul, waiting for me, so I wasn’t sure if he was trying to charm me or he really meant it.
“Oh, okay.”
He pressed his mouth to mine in a slow, deep kiss. Energy shot through me, setting my nerve endings alight. I rose on my tiptoes as a bolt of unexpected pleasure coiled through me.
He groaned against my mouth, deepening the kiss. I stumbled backward, blindly reaching behind me until I felt a wall.
“Mmm... what a kiss,” I murmured against his lips. “Any special reason it was hot enough that I needed a wall to brace myself?”
He grinned against my lips. “For good luck.”
And then he kissed me again, exploring my mouth with his and my body with his hands. Every part of me he touched was on fire.
“And what was that one for?”
“More good luck.”
“How much of that do you need for a live video?” I teased.
“Lots.”
I laughed, squirming against him. He groaned.
“What are you doing?�
�
“Oh, that doesn’t count as bringing you luck?”
“Woman, are you trying to make me go live with a hard-on?”
“No, no. That’s all for me. No one else is allowed to see it. I’m very possessive.”
He pressed a thumb at the corner of my mouth. “Good. So am I, Isabelle. So am I.”
Licking my lips, I glanced at the clock behind him and startled.
“Brayden, you’re supposed to go live in five minutes. Come on, let’s find the guys.”
We ultimately had to drag them from the rehearsal room into the main living room. I sat on the huge couch opposite the dining room where the guys were sitting talking to the camera.
The plan was simple. Each of the guys would talk about what drove them to write music, not only for this album but in general. I was monitoring the comments in real time, making note of what the public was interested in and letting them know by writing keywords on sheets of paper and holding them up for the guys to see. It was the end of July now, and their concerts started in October, so some questions were about the upcoming events.
They were being filmed by a phone they’d set up on a holder on the coffee table in front of their couch. I was following the comment thread from my iPad, which I kept next to me.
The goal was for the video to feel as natural as possible, but the guys hadn’t wanted to risk babbling about things their fans had no interest in.
Lars spoke first, very comfortable with the camera. It all began smoothly enough because not too many fans had joined in yet, so there weren’t too many comments to read through.
Brayden followed Lars and was much more natural, like it was him and me talking. The guys didn’t switch seats, merely adjusted the angle of the phone.
“I’ve always said that music just comes to me, and it’s true. But sometimes we meet new people who inspire us in a way we didn’t think possible. I strongly believe that my music is the product of everything that happens around me. Of everyone I meet.”
My breath caught. I wasn’t sure if he was speaking to the camera or to me now. I lost track of what I was supposed to be doing for a few seconds before focusing on the comment thread again. I threw furtive looks at Brayden over the screen, unable to hide my smile. He was still looking at me, right over the camera.