The Brightest Star

by B. Cranford

  In a practiced dance, one they’d perfected years earlier and resumed like no time at all had passed, Brighton stroked him in her firm grip, twisting as she reached the head, spreading the drops of pre-cum that seeped from the tip along his length, while he eased his hand between her legs, sinking two fingers into her heat, making her legs shake with want.

  So much want.

  They stood there, touching and re-learning each other for as long as they both could stand, then fell together onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, breaking apart as laughter bubbled up.

  Fun. Always, with Brighton, it had been fun. Sexy, hot, sometimes dirty, occasionally kinky but always fun because she understood him. She made him playful, something he’d lost when he’d lost her.

  He rolled onto his back, shifting so he was in the center of her bed, and dragged her atop him. Her chocolate waves framed her face and along her chin, and he thrust his hands up into the strands, bringing her face down to his as she began to move her hips gently, rocking her sex across his cock, making all conscious thought slip from his brain.

  He was determined to make this the best it had ever been, yet so desperate for her that slowing down wasn’t an option. Releasing her hair, he slowly ran his hands down her body, leaving a wake of goosebumps on her neck, her shoulders, down her arms, before shifting them ever so slightly to land on her hips, his right hand careful to avoid touching the fresh tattoo that told him so much about her. About how much she loved him still.

  With little pressure, he helped her roll her body on his, trying to keep the movement slow and steady, trying to suppress the urge to raise her hips and thrust into her. “Seb,” she moaned his name like it was the only word she knew, making his fingers tighten on her lush skin.

  Her hands, which had been pressed into his chest, her fingers making the tiniest of movements over his matching tattoo—a sensation that Sebastian couldn’t give name to but didn’t want to ever stop—suddenly grabbed at his wrists, drawing them away from her hips and lowering them to his side.

  He could have stopped her, but he was so desperate for her, to know what she had planned that he allowed her this measure of control.

  For a brief moment, their eyes met and she smiled a naughty smile at him as she began moving down his body, lowering her head so she could first bite at his neck, then run her tongue along the defined muscles of his chest, focusing on his tattoo.

  She’d always loved doing that to him, and he’d always loved feeling the warmth of her mouth on any, on every, part of his body. The tattoo was merely the icing on the cake.

  “Mmm,” she hummed into his skin, “still so delicious.” Her voice was pure sex to Sebastian’s ears, and he fisted the sheets under his hands to stop himself from taking over.

  Visions of doing exactly that—of gripping her arms and reversing their positions so he could slip his cock inside the pussy that he knew, he knew was made just for him—clashed with the sight and sensation of Brighton licking the V-shaped muscles that led to his arousal. “Bright—” He wanted to stop her, knowing that if he let her take him in her mouth, and the glint in her shining eyes told him that was exactly her plan, he wouldn’t last long.

  “No,” was all she said, shaking her head before licking up the throbbing vein that ran the length of his cock. “This is what I want. Don’t you want to give me what I want, Sebastian?”

  Oh, fuck, yes.

  He couldn’t respond. Her sex kitten voice, the way she looked at him seductively through her curling lashes, the way her perky tits now rested on his thighs all conspired to make him utterly speechless. He nodded in affirmation and found one single word to shout at the walls of Brighton’s bedroom as she lowered her mouth down, down, down until her nose was nearly pressed flush against his skin and his cock lodged deep in her wet, willing mouth. “Fuck.”

  Brighton’s body shivered with unexpected laughter at Sebastian’s curse, so loud and guttural that it reverberated through her bedroom and her body. A gush of heat between her legs told her that everything she was doing to him, along with his reactions to it, was jacking her arousal up ever higher.

  Without overthinking, she gripped the base of his cock in one hand, pulling her mouth up and down. She wanted to enjoy this moment, the pleasure that came with sucking hard, then soft, of flicking her tongue along his length and circling the tip. But oh God, she ached for him, her pussy clenching at the idea of him inside her.

  Dammit, she wanted him inside her.

  To ease the ache, she lowered her free hand down her body, stopping at the apex of her thighs, then flicked at her clit and began moving her fingers over her bundle of nerves, keeping rhythm with her mouth as it worked Sebastian over, the only word escaping his mouth was variations of “fuck.”

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fucking, fucking, fuck.” She wanted to grin, to giggle at that. To revel in the way she’d rendered this man almost completely speechless, but her mouth was otherwise occupied, and besides, a wave of pure lust crashed over her as her finger sped up to counter the spontaneous rolling that began at her hips, mimicking the movements her body would make when finally, blissfully, joined with his.

  Brighton’s body was seeking Sebastian, and her finger was just barely enough to sate her.

  She removed the hand from the base of him, taking him all the way to the back of her throat and beyond, nuzzling the short hairs at the base of his dick and swallowing so the tightness of her throat squeezed the pleasure from him.

  “Fu-u-u-u-u-u-ck,” he groaned, making the swear word at least seven long syllables instead of one.

  She repeated the move twice more, feeling more powerful, more in control and somehow more out of control than ever before.

  Remembering how it was between them before, she used her free hand to tug and play with Sebastian’s balls, play them along her fingers, making sure he was enjoying every stroke of her mouth, every movement of her hand by watching him as his body began to bow with pleasure.

  This is it, she thought to herself, feeling her own pleasure begin to center on the spot her fingers continued to work, shimmering, waiting to explode while she prepared to swallow everything Sebastian was about to give her.

  Except . . .

  Two strong hands grabbed hold of the hair at the back of her head, roughly sliding her up his length, letting his cock pop from her mouth, and bounce—damn near defying gravity—towards his stomach from the force. The pressure on the strands was a shot of pure pleasure-pain and she whimpered, a soft sound that was as instinctive as her need to have him push inside her body and make her come.

  Her glassy eyes—watering from the mix of working Sebastian over with her mouth and the edge of her pleasure, just out of reach—wandered over her lover’s body and she saw his head shaking back and forth, like he was searching for words and failing to find them.

  “Speechless, baby?” She questioned him while still playing with his balls, sweeping her hand up and over his cock, feeling the residual wetness from her mouth. She wanted to taunt him but she also wanted his words. She needed to hear, not just see, how badly she was affecting him, because she felt her desire for him in every inch of her body.

  Even her toes curled with need.

  “Not speechless, just fucking lucky. Stopping you just now was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.” He smirked at her, thrusting into the fist she'd formed on his heavy erection. “But I don’t want to come in your mouth.”

  Using his grip on her hair to pull her up, so she was once again straddling his hips and using her hands to balance herself on his pecs, he tapped her pussy in a soft smacking motion, once, twice, three times. “I want to come in here. That okay?”

  His voice was thick with his need, and his words made her heart pound faster than ever.

  I might have a heart attack making love to this man, and I actually don’t care as long as I finish first.

  Her wry thoughts brought a mischievous smile to her face. She knew Sebastian well enough to know that she would finish se
veral times before he was done—and he’d be more than willing to give her mouth-to-mouth if her heart did bring things to an unexpected halt.

  “Mouth-to-mouth?” The look on his face was quizzical, and Brighton realized she’d said all or part of her last thoughts aloud. “Mouth-to-pussy, too, if you’re lucky.”

  She snickered at his words. “And am I? Lucky?”

  “I’m the lucky one, I told you that, but . . .” He braced his hands on her ribs, just below her breasts and flipped them over so quickly, Brighton barely registered the movement before she was looking up at him from below. “So are you.”

  But it wasn’t her pussy he took in his mouth first. Instead, he lowered his head to one of her pert, pink nipples and lapped it before sucking it, hard, into his mouth. The hair of his beard added an extra sensation to the feel of him pulling on her and she grasped his head with both hands, determined not to let him move away.

  It wasn’t enough, though. Her legs were restless, her clit fluttering like it had its very own heartbeat, her body feeling achingly empty of him.

  “Please,” she begged. “Please, I need you.”

  He stroked a hand down her stomach, circling her belly button with the tip of one finger, before moving lower and pressing the same finger against her entrance. “So wet, baby.”

  “Yes, yes, fuck,” she cried out as he pushed the digit inside her, flexing it so he hit that spot inside he’d found so long ago and still knew where to find without hardly trying.

  His mouth moved from one breast to the other, licking, sucking, biting at her nipples, making Brighton’s entire body begin to shift impatiently on the mattress. “Need more, Bright Star?”

  She whimpered her need, too worked up to speak, too desperate for him to find words.

  Suddenly, his mouth was on her clit, a second finger—or was it a third—joining the one currently stroking inside of her relentlessly. Her breasts tingled where his mouth had been, the cool air making them tighten ever more, sending a shot of pure arousal to her pussy.

  Her back arched, her shoulders raising from the bed, her neck making a graceful line, until only the top of her head remained on the mattress as light and stars and oh, God, feeling spread like wildfire over and over her body.

  “So good, so good,” Sebastian repeated as he gently stroked his tongue over her swollen, sensitive flesh.

  Brighton merely moaned, a humming that sounded wanton and satisfied all at once, finally lowering her body back onto the bed. Her limbs felt like the best kind of numb, her explosive orgasm taking away all strength and leaving just a heaviness that was perfect.

  So perfect.

  “I’m not done yet,” Sebastian whispered as he crawled up her body, his dimples on display, his beard showing evidence of what sensation he’d wreaked across her entire being, making her worn out limbs twitch with returning need. “Not even close.”

  “Good.” She smiled at him, grabbing his shoulders and digging her nails into the skin there, offering him a bite of pain to go along with the pleasure she knew he got from making her come. “Neither am I.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  With her face still flushed from the remnants of the orgasm he'd given her, Brighton looked at Sebastian with tenderness, with need, with love.

  Goddamn.

  His mind was operating on a backup system, it seemed. All his brain power and blood had been diverted south, to his so-painful-it-hurt cock, which he now pressed against Brighton’s center. With agonizing slowness, Sebastian entered her, watching as her eyes rolled up.

  He wanted to beat his chest. Because he was making her feel this way. Him.

  He hadn't thought, didn't want to hope that he'd ever be able to give this to her again, and yet here he was. Arms on either side of her head, the short ends of her hair brushing his wrists where they balanced him, allowing him to hold himself above her. Her sweet, lithe body laid out below him, waiting for him to make it sing with pleasure again.

  And her smile, bright and wide and genuine, directed right at him.

  “Brighton,” he lowered his head to speak quietly in her ear, taking advantage of the moment to nuzzle at her neck, drawing in a long breath, basking in the scent of her. A mix of flowers, sweat and sex. “I love you.”

  He turned his head slightly, in time to see her eyes close, her smile growing impossibly wider. He placed a reverent kiss on the apple of her cheek, enjoying their quiet moment after the first rush of connecting bodies.

  The quiet didn't last. With abandon, Brighton raised and lowered her hips, making Sebastian's cock slide in and out, the sensation one she remembered vividly.

  “Fu—” She stopped the word from slipping all the way out of his mouth by biting his thick lower lip, then soothing it with minute flicks of her tongue.

  “Don't you know any other words?” She giggled as she teased him. “Good thing you're an accountant, Seb.”

  He tilted his head to take her earlobe between his teeth, biting her right back and leaving his lips to linger a moment, giving just enough pressure to sting, but not hurt.

  Never hurt.

  Never again.

  Ending the love bite, he gave her a small kiss there to soothe. “I know three things, baby. One, I love you but I already told you that.” He shifted so his cock rubbed along her walls, a maddeningly slow push-pull. “Two, if I don't start moving soon, really moving, I’m likely to pass out.”

  She hissed before uttering, “same,” making Sebastian’s lips tilt up in amusement. His girl was wanting.

  His girl. Nope, he'd never get tired of that.

  She tried to wiggle underneath him, the innocent look in her eyes no cover for the fact she was desperately trying to get his dick to move faster, to increase the rippling pleasure he knew they were both enjoying as she slowly rocked her hips, fucking him from the bottom.

  “Well, what's the third?” She mimed looking at her watch, like she didn't have the time or patience to wait. Which, if she was feeling everything the way he was, she didn't.

  “Three, there hasn't been anyone else. Not for me.” In the two years they'd been apart, he'd been in rehab, then therapy and, as he tried to gather up all the pieces of his life that he'd shattered, he didn't have time to think about sex.

  No, that wasn't true. He thought about it, but trying to put anyone but Brighton into his fantasies was pointless. He didn't want anyone else. Just the thought made him want to punch something, and he wasn't typically a man drawn into violence easily.

  But that didn't mean Brighton had been alone all this time. As much as it killed him—fucking killed him—to think about, there was a good chance she'd found someone else in his absence. And if she had, he couldn't blame her. He'd left her with nothing—no money, no home and definitely no assurances that he'd be back. Any man she'd taken to bed was on him.

  And the searing pain he felt at the idea was just one more form of punishment for all the mistakes he'd made.

  Her silence after his confession made the tension in the room, already thick enough to slice with a knife, sharp enough to cut cans, ratchet up several notches.

  Sebastian pressed their foreheads together, keeping the movement light, so their skin barely touched. “It's okay, Bright Star. I’ll grab something real quick.”

  He felt like a douche, telling her it was okay, like he had some fucking say in the matter. He knew he didn't, and yet he felt like she needed to hear it. He began to pull out, to go in search of protection for them both, but Brighton stopped him with her quiet words.

  “Me either.” Barely audible among the sounds of bombs detonating inside his skull, her confession rocked his very foundation.

  Two simple words. Me either.

  Moved to action once again, he lowered his lips to her and as he pushed his cock back inside her waiting warmth, he brought his mouth down to hers, whispering “thank you” over and over and over again against her lips.

  They were finally together again in the most intimate of ways, and it felt lik
e a celebration, a homecoming. He blew out a long breath, and it felt like he'd been holding it all this time. Not since they’d walked into this bedroom, sex on their minds. Not since he’d watched her through the window of Panera. But since the moment the phone rang two years ago and all his lies came crashing down, like an unstoppable wave of betrayal.

  “I've missed this. Missed it. You. You, Brighton.” He met her eyes again, needing to see reflected back at him the love, the need, the relief he felt at being with her once more.

  Home. With her, home.

  It was there, her feelings visible on every inch of her face, her body. It was in her hands as they grappled with his shoulders, in her legs as she wrapped them around him, using the heels of her feet to push down on his ass. Urging him on once more.

  He chuckled. He'd barely moved, just savoring these moments, but if he wasn't mistaken, she was getting impatient.

  “What do you need?” He’d give her anything, but he had a feeling all she needed right then was something simple.

  “Move,” her reply was forceful, as she tried a second time to spur him into action with her feet. “I need you to move.”

  And move he did. He slid in and out of her, the sounds of their sex filling the room and making his body burn. It started tenderly, two people finally joined again, making love as a way to reconnect. It was crazy the way he worshipped her, his every thought on making her whimper and moan and sigh, and any other noise of pleasure he could draw from her.

  As he sweetly loved her, she brought her mouth to his, her lips insistent and demanding.

  More, he could practically hear her voice in his head, asking—no, begging—him to give her even more. To give her everything.

  The feel of her warm pussy wrapped around his cock was slowly short-circuiting his brain, making it harder and harder to remember to be gentle. He'd been struggling with the idea of it since the moment she told him she was giving back her trust. Placing her heart and her faith back in his hands, when even he wasn't sure he deserved it.