Between Brothers

by Lauren Gallagher

  He shifted his position a little, pushing himself forward so that he was even deeper inside me. “You want it hard?” he growled, withdrawing slowly. His cock grazed my G-spot and white light crept into my vision. His voice sounded a thousand miles away as he said, “Then you’ll get it hard.”

  And he did just that, pounding my pussy so hard that it hurt, and I loved every second of it.

  “Oh my God,” I moaned, forgetting where I was, who I was.

  “God you feel amazing,” he said.

  “You’re going to—” A deep thrust knocked the breath out of me and lodged my words in my throat.

  “Tell me,” he said, never breaking his rhythm even as he spoke. “Oh fuck, baby, tell me. Whatever you want.”

  “I’m going to come.” The words came out as little more than a sigh. He responded with a deep groan and fucked me faster still. I thought I screamed his name, I thought I heard his groan crescendo into a roar, but all I knew for certain was the explosion of icy-hot lightning inside me, and I saw white.

  “Oh fuck, you’re so tight when you come,” he groaned, his voice barely penetrating the delirium he’d sent me into. “Oh fuck, oh…fuck…” And he drove himself as far in as my pussy would take him, and came.

  Thirty Nine

  We were both tense and still for a long moment as our orgasms peaked and tapered. I relaxed. After a moment, he did too. I released the handful of his shirt that I’d clung to, realizing with some amusement that I had now fucked him twice and still I hadn’t seen him naked.

  “Jesus Christ,” he whispered.

  “My sentiments exactly,” I said, drawing him into a gentle kiss. Then I said with a wink, “Join me for a shower?”

  “I’d love to.” He nuzzled my neck. “Now I can finally see you naked.”

  “All you had to do was ask.” I unbuttoned the top button of my blouse, but he stopped my hand.

  “No, no, allow me.” He ran his fingers over the front of my blouse. One by one, taking his sweet time, he unbuttoned it. He pushed it aside and cupped my breast, circling my nipple with his thumb through my bra. “I had a feeling you were hiding a gorgeous body all this time.”

  My cheeks burned and I rolled my eyes.

  “I’m serious.” He ran his hand down my side and over the swell of my hip. “A figure like this shouldn’t be hidden from the rest of the world.”

  “You want me to dress more like the receptionists?”

  He snorted. “Please. There’s dressing sexy and there’s dressing like a whore.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you liked their type.”

  He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Come on, now, I have taste.” I eyed him and he laughed. “I know, I know, the Millers say I’ve fucked every last one of them.”

  “Haven’t you?”

  “No,” he said. “I don’t get around quite as much as the Millers would have you believe.”

  “Really?”

  “That’s not to say I’ve never slept with anyone at the company,” he said. “But my roster is far, far shorter than the rumors suggest.”

  “Wonders never cease,” I said with a laugh.

  “Says the woman who dressed like a church mouse and then showed up dressed like—” He paused, looking at my discarded clothes, letting out a long breath. The rest of his words came out as barely a whisper, “Dressed like a woman who any man would give his right arm to fuck.”

  “You’re just trying to flatter me into bed,” I said.

  “I already have you in bed,” he chuckled. “And after I get you into the shower, I intend to get you into bed again.”

  “There’s something I want from you first.”

  His eyebrows jumped.

  I laughed. “I have been dying to see what you’re hiding under all of these clothes for the past few years.”

  With a devilish twinkle in his eyes, he said, “I think you’ve already felt what I’m hiding.”

  “I want to see everything you have.” Trailing my fingers over his shoulder, I paused to tug at his sleeve. “You’re hiding some ink under there, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe I am,” he said.

  “I know you are.”

  He cocked his head. “How?”

  “Because it shows through when you wear that white polo shirt.” That damned white polo shirt that has driven me wild more times than I can count.

  He snickered and bent to kiss my neck. “You must have been looking pretty hard to see through my shirt.”

  “Would you file a sexual harassment grievance against me if I said that I was?”

  He laughed and pushed himself up so he was sitting. “No,” he said. “But I might fuck you again.” With that, he pulled his shirt off, and I had to bite my lip as I finally saw Max Gordon the way I’d craved.

  He was nothing like the Max Gordon I’d fantasized about. Not even close.

  Without a shirt, his shoulders seemed even broader.

  Both his chest and shoulders were nothing if not fucking powerful, and from there his body tapered into the narrow waist I’d so easily hooked my legs around earlier. He certainly wasn’t a body builder, but he wasn’t lacking anywhere. His abs could have given Darren’s a run for their money.

  And the tattoos. Jesus. The tattoos.

  I knew about the ink on his biceps, but I hadn’t realized he had more on his pectorals. As he turned to toss his shirt on the floor behind him, I caught a glimpse of more on his shoulders. My mouth watered.

  “So,” he said, making a face and gesturing at his own body. “There it is. Are all of your fantasies crushed?”

  I swallowed. “Not in the least.” I sat up. “How many tattoos do you have?”

  “Six.”

  I blinked. “Seriously?”

  “One on each arm, one on each pec, two on my back,” he said. He watched me as I looked over his impressive collection. “You like tattoos?”

  “I love them.” I touched his arm, getting a closer look at the tattoo on that bicep. It was a bulldog with a globe and anchor, an emblem I was familiar with from my brother’s time in the military. “I didn’t know you were a Marine.”

  He smiled. “Surprise.”

  I laughed. “You are full of surprises, Mr. Gordon.” I quickly added “tattooed Max Gordon” and “camouflaged, heavily-armed Max Gordon” to my fantasy repertoire.

  He slid his arm around my waist and pulled me to him, his hot skin brushing deliciously against my nipples. “How about that shower?”

  “I don’t know if there’s a shower hot enough to make you any less filthy, Max,” I said, kissing him.

  He laughed. “You’re probably right. But I want to see you wet.”

  “You’ve already made me wet.”

  He shivered and took in a breath through his nose. “Well if that’s the way you’re going to be…” He laughed, then pulled back and leaned towards the nightstand. “I’d better bring one of these into the shower with us.” Picking up one of the condoms, he held it between his fingers, flashing me a grin that would have knocked my legs out from under me had I not been sitting.

  He took my hand and helped me to my feet. We both stripped out of the last of our clothes, and I led him across the hall to the bathroom.

  It was a small apartment, so naturally, it had a small bathroom with the requisite tiny shower and tub, but it would have to do. I didn’t imagine we’d need a whole lot of room, since we’d probably be all over each other as soon as the water was on.

  And I was right: As soon as we were under the water, he put his arms around me and kissed me.

  Between kissing and touching and otherwise teasing, we managed to get ourselves clean, but neither of us made any effort to get out of the shower. Max pulled me into a deep kiss and nudged me back. I took a step and he leaned into me again. I took another step and yelped in surprise as my shoulders touched the cold wall, but he held me there. He kissed my neck, my collarbone, sucked gently on one nipple, then the other. Then he trailed kisses down the
center of my chest, and my abdomen, and I realized he was going down to his knees in front of me. Oh fuck. There was no doubt in my mind what he was doing. But here? In the shower? Standing?

  I couldn’t channel my thoughts into any kind of question as he kissed every last scrap of rational thought out of me, drawing his tongue down the ridge of my hip bone. He was on his knees then, and he pushed my thighs apart gently.

  Kissing the inside of my knee, he trailed his fingertips down the back of my leg. His hand wrapped around my ankle and he tugged gently. He looked up at me. “Bring your leg up.”

  I cocked my head. “Up? What do you mean?”

  He tapped his shoulder and grinned.

  I blinked. “Are you serious?”

  “I want to taste you right now,” he said. He winked. “I won’t drop you, I promise. You’re small enough for me to hold up.”

  Before I could even try to comprehend how many laws of physics he was suggesting we ignore, he nudged my ankle again. I shifted my weight to my other leg, and he lifted me up, resting my thigh on his shoulder. He put his hands under my ass and held me steady, leaning me against the wall for balance. My heart skipped as he brought my other leg up, resting it on his other shoulder. I was certain I was going to fall, certain that he was going to drop me, certain that—

  His mouth found my clit, and I forgot all about our strange position as he taught me the meaning of the phrase “oral fixation”. His tongue alternated between a firm, solid presence against my clit and a soft, gentle touch. He approached my clit with his lips, backed off, came back for more, devouring my pussy just like he did my mouth.

  There was nothing for me to hold on to in this strange levitated position, so I ran both hands through his soaked hair, pulling him closer to my pussy. Over the sound of the shower, I didn’t hear him moan softly, but I felt it, loud and clear in the form of a delicious vibration across my clit, and I let out a helpless sound of my own. His voice again rippled across my clit, and the whimper I released this time quickly crescendoed into a helpless cry as he sent me over the edge once again.

  He let me down slowly, easing first one foot, then the other, to the floor. He held my hips until he must have been satisfied that I could stand on my own, then rose to kiss me.

  “My God, you’re amazing with your mouth,” I said, closing my eyes as the blood went back into my legs and the last aftershocks of my orgasm rippled through me.

  “Why thank you,” he said. “I told you I wouldn’t drop you.”

  “Where did you learn how to do that?” I asked, still breathless from my orgasm and trying to comprehend what we’d just done. “Holding someone up like that?”

  He laughed. “When I had a sexy woman up against a shower wall and wanted to eat her pussy.” He winked

  I blinked. “You’d never tried that before tonight?”

  “No,” he said. “But it worked, didn’t it?”

  “All right, I can’t argue with that.”

  He chuckled. “Just call me Climax Gordon.”

  I rolled my eyes and laughed. “I swear to God, I will tell the Millers about that.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Try me.”

  “Because if you told them that, they’d know you were fucking me.”

  “I’ll tell them I heard it from the janitor after I walked in on you two.”

  He grimaced. “Oh, now that’s cold.”

  “I play dirty.”

  “I like it when you’re dirty.” He didn’t wait for a response, instead pulling me to him and kissing me. As we kissed beneath the hot water, he nudged me with his hip and laughed at my startled gasp. He was already hard again.

  “Jesus, you recover quickly,” I said.

  He kissed me. “What can I say? You turn me on. In fact…” He grabbed the condom off of the edge of the tub. “You turn me on so much that I need to get my cock in you again.”

  As he put the condom on, I said, “So what sort of gravity-defying position are we going to use this time?”

  “We’re not defying gravity.” He grabbed my hips and turned me around, pushing me up against the shower wall and nudging my legs apart with his knee. Then he flinched. “Jesus!”

  “What?” I looked over my shoulder, puzzled.

  “Cold fucking water,” he said through his teeth. He leaned away from me for a second and the water stopped.

  I snickered. “Oh yeah, the hot water doesn’t last long here.”

  He growled and put his hands on my waist and pulled me against him. “Thanks for the warning.”

  “Anytime.” Without the white noise of the shower drowning out most sounds, our voices seemed sharper than before, louder, echoing in the tiny bathroom. I was even acutely aware of the barely audible whisper of his hands sliding from my waist to my hips.

  My skin was starting to get cold as the bathroom cooled, but Max didn’t make any move to let me go. Over my shoulder, I said, “Why don’t we go back into the bedroom?”

  “No,” he said simply. His knee pushed mine farther apart and I gasped as his cock teased my pussy. “I’m not moving until I fuck you again.” And with a thrust of his hips, he did just that, pinning me against the wall and

  slamming his cock into me.

  I wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of heart-stopping sensations he unleashed with each thrust. “Oh fuck…” I said. At this angle, his cock hit my G-spot perfectly, over and over, fucking perfectly, driving me within an inch of insanity. My long, drawn out moans were punctuated by Max’s thrusts, broken into a series of staccato yelps as he knocked the air out of me.

  Then he slowed down, taking infuriatingly long, slow strokes.

  “Faster,” I pleaded.

  “Faster?”

  “Please.”

  “But I’m enjoying this.” The lilt in his voice told me he was doing it on purpose.

  “Please.”

  “But Marisa,” he teased. “I…”

  I squeezed his cock with my pussy as hard as I could and rocked my hips forward, pulling him in.

  He exhaled. “Jesus Christ…” I did it again and he groaned.

  “Now that I have your attention,” I said. “Fuck. Me. Faster.”

  “Well, when you put it like that,” he said, his voice strained. He gripped my hips and fucked me just the way I wanted it, hard and fast. Harder. Faster. Deeper into my pussy, working my G-spot as if it was deliberately placed in the perfect spot for his cock.

  One hand released my hip and slid towards my clit. A pre-emptive tremor rippled through me even before his fingers found their mark, and as soon as they did, my world went white once again.

  When the trembling ceased, Max kissed my shoulder. “Let’s go back into the bedroom.”

  Forty

  We were still damp from the shower, but neither of us bothered to towel off. The bedspread could be dried. I needed Max inside me again, and I needed him now.

  He threw me onto the bed, hard enough to make me yelp, but not enough to hurt. “You all right?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” I said, barely breathing. I wrapped my legs around his waist. “I’m fine. Just…oh my God, Max…” I couldn’t form the words, but he didn’t need me to tell him. He groaned as he thrust his cock into me again. After my last orgasm, after the way he’d devoured me and fucked me in the shower, I was dizzy with arousal. I was far beyond turned on.

  Faltering a little, he cursed under his breath.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He kissed me gently and laughed. “My legs are getting tired.”

  “Then let me get on top,” I said.

  “I like the sound of that.” We changed positions, and he groaned softly as I took him inside me.

  I moved faster, then slower, adjusting my speed whenever he got accustomed to one rhythm, catching him off guard each time. And every time, I was rewarded with a catch of his breath, a startled gasp, a soft groan.

  “My God, that’s awesome,” he whispered.

  “Like that?�
�� I asked.

  “Ohh, yeah,” he said. “I don’t know which I like better, the way you look right now, or the way you feel.” He ran his hands up and down my sides, letting out a long breath as he watched me slowly ride him.

  I adjusted my position so that his cock pressed right against my G-spot each time I came down. “Oh my God,” I said as I moved faster.

  “That’s fucking beautiful. Holy hell, that’s hot.” He held my hips and thrust upward to meet me each time I came down. It felt good, but it kept him from hitting my G-spot the way I liked.

  “Like this,” I breathed. I took his wrists and pinned them beside his head, riding him at exactly the right speed and angle. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I worried that he would take offense, take it as criticism, try to stop what I was doing, but he didn’t.

  “Oh God, fuck me, baby,” he growled. He pushed back against my grasp on his wrists, but he wasn’t struggling. He closed his eyes, the cords in his neck tightening and his brow bunching.

  “Oh my God, oh fuck…” The sound of my own voice surprised me, but it didn’t embarrass me, not this time. As the first waves of an orgasm shuddered through me, I cried, “Oh my God, Max, fuck…”

  “Come baby,” he said. “Jesus, you’re close, aren’t you? Oh baby, come…”

  I came, and I came hard, throwing my head back and crying out as if I didn’t care who heard, because I didn’t care who heard anymore. I was on top of the man who was supposed to be out of my league, having an orgasm to end all orgasms, and I wasn’t about to hold back so that my neighbors didn’t hear it.

  Over the sound of my own cries came a barely audible whisper, just four words spoken no louder than the release of a breath. “Let me fuck you.”

  I opened my eyes and looked down at him. The hunger in his eyes was palpable, especially as his lips parted when an aftershock rippled up my spine.

  “Let me fuck you,” he said again. His tone carried a delicious note of desperation, just like Eric’s often did.

  I lifted off of him, then came back down, swiveling my hips as I slowly took him inside me again. “But I like fucking you.”