Forsaken: A Brother's Best Friend Romance (Gritt Family Book 2)

by Gabrielle G.

  “I thought you wanted it inside you,” I squeal as she wets my cock with her tongue.

  “Sucking, before fucking.” She laughs at her own banter before putting it all in her mouth. Her lips come back up slowly, her tongue cradling my shaft and leaving a trail of wetness that chills me to the bone when she breathes heavily through her nose. Shudders spread, and I swell even more under her touch. When she goes back down, she tightens her mouth by sucking her lips around me. It’s as tight, wet and warm as a virgin pussy. Precum builds at my tip, and when her tongue laps it, I grunt.

  She moans her appreciation. “I don’t know if I want to taste your cum or get you inside me,” she says, stroking me up and down.

  “Why don’t you turn around, so I can eat your pussy while you taste my cum.”

  I always find a solution to problems involving my cock.

  She pushes me back to lie down and climbs on top.

  Her mouth aligns perfectly with my cock, and she offers me her dripping pussy while moaning just by feeling my breath on her. When my tongue finally touches her, I could come.

  Tasting her, and having her moan around my cock is heaven on earth.

  I plunge my tongue inside her and lick her walls, moving my gruff chin against her clit, over and over again. When the pleasure builds up, she squeezes me hard, giving me the roughness, I need and grabs my balls. I moan inside her and feel her shiver above me.

  She moves fast, fucking my face, and as much as I want to come in her mouth and her to swallow every drop of me, I also want her pussy to be stretched by me. I put my hand on her ass and push her away from my face.

  At that moment, I promise myself to take her ass as soon as possible.

  She complains about the change, but when I dip two fingers inside her and curl them just enough to escalate her pleasure, she moans and needs to let my cock go to enjoy what’s coming. I push in and out a few times before I push her further, and replace my fingers with my cock, her sitting like a frog on me in reverse cowgirl.

  I sit up and bring my wet fingers to her lips. She licks them the same way she had my cock in her mouth.

  “Fuck me, Chris, I need your cock!” I thrust hard and place my hands on her hips to help her move up and down my shaft as I go deep inside her. She throws her head back with her release, seconds before her cunt imprisons my dick and shouts inside her.

  “Fuck, Sal,” I moan when my release is done. She gets up from my dripping cock and brings her tongue to it, clearing away all traces of us.

  “If you’re going to do that, babe, come back here, so I can clean you too,” I tell her. She sits on my face, and I get hard again tasting us inside of her.

  I love the taste of her sweetness, and my saltiness drives me wild.

  I could take her again.

  Unfortunately, she moves away from my face, turning around to kiss me and stealing all the juice from my mouth. When she’s done, she wipes her mouth, then mine, and smiles at me, satisfied.

  “You, licking me after coming in me is the hottest thing someone has ever done to me.”

  “Hotter than telling you I want to stay home with the kids?” I grin like a cocky bastard.

  “Way dirtier, but fuck, I liked it.”

  “I’ll clean you up every time, babe, if you like that. Now pass me my clothes. We’re late for supper at your parents, and we reek of sex.”

  “It’s a rite of passage, smelling like sex for dinner or anger fucking against the barn. Welcome to my family, honey.” She pats my leg before getting out of the car, bare ass and starts to get dressed on the side of the road, with no care in the world.

  24

  Salomé

  A Gritt family supper is always noisy.

  It’s also when everybody gets into everyone else’s business, like monkeys looking for lice on each other’s heads.

  If you are anybody but me, you can’t escape the dangling fingers of my mother affectionately touching your cheek, or my father’s stare because you're a dumbass.

  With me, my mother puts my hair in place as if I always had messy hair, and my father looks at me as if I was the most precious thing in the world.

  That’s what happens when you’re the only girl in a family of stupid boys.

  As for my brothers, Barnabas will monopolize the conversation with stupid and sometimes hurtful comments, Luke will be a shit disturber, Dex will watch, and Aaron will grunt.

  And Chris? Well, before Jordan, he would have bantered with Barn and made fun of Aar, but he wasn’t really around much when he was with Jordan, or at least, not when I was home, so I have no idea how he’s going to act tonight.

  Because we’re late, they are all around the table at the assigned places we’ve all had for a couple of years.

  Our mother was fed up with the continuous battles between us and assigned places so we would shut up. Changing seats disturbs the delicate equilibrium she created for us to all get along.

  The table is oval, and Dad sits next to the door, then Mom on his right, close to the kitchen because she’s always up, then Alane, Aaron, Dex, Luke, Me, Barn, Hailey, Lawson, Adam, and any guests we bring, except if it’s a significant other. So tonight Chris should sit in between Dad and Barn, as Aaron’s kids aren’t here.

  Barnabas has a huge shit-eating grin on his face, waiting for our move, but the conversation doesn’t stop because of our arrival. If it had been Aaron or Dex and Luke walking through the front door, my mother would open her arms as if she was Moses parting the Red Sea. As it’s only me, she nods and continues drinking every word Luke is saying about the goat he just bought.

  “What are you going to do with a goat, Luke?” Chris asks as he stands behind Barn, puts his hands on his shoulders and squeezes hard.

  “Ouch, Chris, what the fuck?”

  “Move!” Chris answers authoritatively.

  “Mom, Chris is trying to steal my place,” Barn complains as if he was five.

  “Chris, the rule is…” my mother starts to explain.

  “The rule is you sit next to your husband or boyfriend. So Sal should sit next to me, and Barn knows it,” Chris interrupts while pulling out the chair for me. “And also, Sal is expecting, so you’re going to be grandparents. They all knew, and nobody told you, and Ridge, you owe my father five thousand dollars.” He sits and switches my glass of white wine with water. Then he kisses my forehead and adds, “There, it’s done, now we can eat.” He grabs his fork and shoves food in his mouth, not caring that our plates are cold. I push mine away.

  All eyes are on us, some more amused than others. My mother is not sure if she wants to cry or rip off my father’s head, who’s also in shock, certainly to have lost five K.

  “We’re having a baby?” my mother stutters, finally deciding to give in to her emotion more than cutting my dad with a kitchen knife.

  “Chris and I are having a baby, yes.”

  She runs around the table and comes to hug me. My father stands and slaps Chris on the shoulder, happy.

  “Welcome to the family, Son!” He beams happily. “Aaron, go get the scotch!”

  My parents sit back, holding hands. My father kisses my mother’s knuckles, and they look at each other blessedly. I’ve hoped all my life to have a love like theirs. A love that is so powerful that your children want to throw up seeing you so in love almost fifty years later. Aaron comes back and sets the scotch on the table with four glasses. Dad, Dex, Chris, and Aaron.

  “What about me?” Luke asks.

  “No scotch for goat breeders,” Dad says seriously. Barn shrugs, undoubtedly knowing that if Luke is still not accepted in the drinker's club for Dad’s favorite scotch, he has no chance to get a glass. Ever.

  “Do you have names in mind?” my mother asks. “Because you know the Gritt tradition is that…”

  “Every first child in the family should be named by a name starting with A.” Alane, Aaron, Luke, Barn, and I say in unison. Chris shoves his empty plate away and starts eating mine.

  “D
id I tell you that already?” my mother quips. “Some didn’t follow the rules…” She looks at Aaron.

  “Only a hundred times,” Luke answers, teasing my mother like he always does and saving Aaron’s ass at the same time. “That’s why we’re naming the goat Alien.”

  “Alien? For a goat?” Barnabas says. “That’s the stupidest name I ever heard!”

  “What would you call a goat then, Barn?” Luke asks, a little angry.

  “I don’t know. Goatee? Mustache Wax? Zappa? Chin Curtain? Anything that could go with Beardy?” he says making fun of Dex’s nickname for Luke.

  “But it has to start with an ‘A’, dickhead. The goat is going to be the closest thing we have to a child.”

  “So Albert, Alfred, Arnold, Arthur. I mean, one of those ugly guy names nobody is going to use anymore.” I gasp, hearing Barnabas criticizing the name I chose. Chris slaps him behind the head.

  “Arthur is a beautiful name, dickhead!” he says, taking my hand.

  “My godson can’t be named Arthur, no way!” Barn frowns. “It’s an old guy with a small dick name.”

  “It’s not,” Bella says, “Your dad and I had a friend named Arthur, and believe me, he was nothing small, do you remember Ridge?” We all groan hearing about our parents’ friend. They were hippies practicing free love in the seventies, and they think that sharing is caring on the subject. It’s not. It’s gross, and we hate it.

  “Chris and I haven’t discussed names yet, but I always liked Arthur and Adelaide,” I say quietly.

  “Not true, babe, we did. Arthur for a boy and Adelaide for a girl.”

  “I mean, it’s not that I don’t like it, but Arthur Harbor is kind of ugly.” My mother winces, reaching for my father’s glass and gulping it in one shot.

  “It is,” Chris says. “But Arthur Gritt is fucking beautiful!” Chris smiles.

  My heart breaks all at once.

  We haven’t really discussed any of this, but I figured we’d name the kid Harbor.

  I mean, hoping that, if we get married one day, we’ll all be Harbors.

  I know I said I wanted to keep my name, but this doesn’t apply if I marry Chris.

  I signed my name many times, Salomé Harbor, in my journal. Or maybe he doesn’t really want the kid to be a Harbor, his mother is so religious, maybe it has to do with us having a kid out of wedlock? As usual, there are enough people not minding their own business around the table for someone else to ask me the question. It’s my dad who speaks first. “So, you don’t want to recognize your child?”

  “Oh, yes, I do, but I want them to have the Gritt name. Maybe we can give them Harbor as a second name?” and I’m wet again. That guy is just the sweetest man I know.

  He’s like sex on Christmas morning. Not something you expect, but the sexiest gift you can ever receive. I squirm on my chair, trying to discreetly release some of the pressure between my legs, but of course, my family always sees it all.

  “Need to go fuck against the barn, Sal?” Dex asks.

  “Traitor,” I mumble between my teeth while the table laughs.

  “Speaking of the barn, I’m moving in there, transforming it into living quarters, so I would appreciate if some of you would stop fucking against it. This also applies to you two,” Barnabas says to our parents.

  “Barn is going to live in the barn?” Luke laughs, scratching his beard.

  “We heard numerous moans over the years, Barnabas, so if your mother and I want to get nasty against our barn, we will,” my dad tells my brother sternly.

  “I’m buying the barn, so it’s mine,” Barn says.

  “Do you remember when Barnabas used to lick anything and everything and say it was his?” Luke says, still making fun of Barn.

  “I should have licked Alane!” Barnabas mutters. Aaron throws his bread at him.

  “Well, you licked enough pussy in the state to raise an army of women,” my mother says. “You should be careful, they may start chasing you like zombies in the night…”

  “Zombies in the night,” my father sings the melody of “Strangers in the night.”

  “So, guys, wedding?” Barnabas throws me under the bus.

  “We’re not getting married,” I say, remembering what Chris said about promises.

  “You’re not?” my mother asks.

  “It’s literally been two days since we decided to be together, we’re already pregnant, can we breathe?” I snap while Chris tries to calm me down by patting his hand on my thigh. It turns me on some more.

  “Well, I’m just saying, if you’re having a baby, maybe you should get married…” my mother retorts.

  “Yeah, because you totally got married after getting pregnant by Dad,” I talk back, fed up with the years of comments about me getting pregnant and getting married.

  “Babe,” Chris cautions me.

  “But that was me, Salomé Blaire, you’re… different.”

  “Bella,” my Dad and Dex warn my mom.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I stand up, angry. “That I need a man to marry me to raise this child? That all I’m good at is to be the wife of some dick?” I fume.

  “Do not call Chris some dick, Salomé!” my mother ripostes.

  “Bella,” my father tries again, “If Salomé is anything like you were pregnant, you’d better back down right now.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” my mother shouts at my father.

  “Let’s say, Thor doesn’t come out only when Luke is angry, but also when women are pregnant on your side of the family.”

  “Nice, Dad, saying your gay son is like a pregnant woman when he’s angry,” Luke scoffs.

  “You want angry? I’m going to fucking show you angry!” I scream, taking the plate in front of me and throwing it like a frisbee across the room. The plate flies just above Aaron’s head and comes crashing against the wall. “Chris, the barn, now!” I stand and start walking away.

  “Not the barn,” Barnabas protests behind me while I kick the door open. I walk straight to the stupid barn where Chris met Jordan, and almost got married to him, and it makes me so angry, I could sit on a cactus and still get off.

  “So…” Chris muses next to me. “How is this anger fuck going to work? Because I'm pretty sure I should be doing the fucking, but you’re the one who's mad, so…”

  “You’re going to fuck me hard and deep, Chris, and if you fail to calm me down, we will get a strap on, and next time my family makes me angry, I will fuck you hard and deep!”

  “I’m not sure if I want to fail to calm you down right now or fuck you the way you need. Just, if I fail, don’t forget the lube.” We each unzip our pants, push them to our knees, and I offer him my ass for him to take me from behind. He thrusts in me hard but steps back quickly, pulling out and leaving the swollen tip of his cock just at my entrance. I barely had time to feel him entirely inside me.

  “What the fuck, Chris!”

  “Come on, babe, fuck my cock. I know you need the control. Just take it,” he says, pushing down on my back to angle me so I can feel him more. I slam my ass against him, our moans covering the slapping noises from our bodies. His cock is making me so full, I sense him in my spine. I move forward and backward again, using his cock to boot the anger out of me.

  “Pinch my clit!”

  “Do it yourself, babe.”

  So I do. I hurt my nub while smashing into him. I get lost in the heat, the pressure and the softness of his cock. He lets me set the pace, until my walls contract and blood rushes inside me, building up my orgasm like never before.

  “Take it, Sal, fuck me, babe. Just make me come,” Chris whispers between grunts. Pressure builds inside me, and when he bucks his hips and finishes, his dick pulsing his release, my brain shuts down, white flashes zapping at me, and I contract around him, shaking violently.

  I sigh deeply when Chris backs away, making me miss him, but a loud moan comes out of me when he holds his promise and licks me clean, not letting one drop of our jui
ces drip on my legs.

  Once he’s done, he turns me around, brushing his fingers against my clit, and kisses me, like we did in the car for me to taste us again.

  Backing away, he puts my underwear and pants back on before getting dressed himself, and pushes me slightly against the wall of the barn.

  He kisses my neck, nibbles on my earlobe and finally whispers in my ear, “Just so you know, we will get married. And more than a strap-on, we’re going to get toys, with remotes, as much for you as for me.”

  And just like that, I’m wet again.

  25

  Chris

  Salomé's phone rings once more, and I swear I’m ready to throw it through the sealed windows of our apartment.

  The device is the devil in person.

  It rings at the most inopportune moments, during shower sex, during kitchen blow, during Netflix cunnilingus, while we eat, while we sleep, while we shit.

  It just rings all the time.

  “I got it! I got it!” Sal runs to the kitchen where I tried to hide the evil enslaver earlier, still all rumpled by sleep from the nap she was taking.

  She needs her snoozes, but she’s too busy organizing the new release of the ‘oh so cool’ band that is the Darling Devils in THE bar in town to have time to rest.

  I’m mad at Dex for having introduced her to his cool friends almost one year ago.

  Actors, singers, writers, producers, Hollywood assholes, they all love her.

  So when Dan Darling reached out for her to organize a small and private event at Absinthe, of course, she couldn’t refuse.

  The lead singer of the biggest band in the last thirty years, wanting her to organize an event in the most fashionable bar in town, with all of Dex and Luke’s LA friends—who opened their arms to her and helped her start her business—in attendance, and her being pregnant, hormonal and tired didn’t matter anymore.