He moves through the apartment without breaking the kiss, his mouth still claiming mine, all heat and hunger and familiarity. The solid press of his chest meets the rise of my breasts, and I can feel the pounding of his heart beneath his shirt, wild and insistent, matching the frantic rhythm of my own.
When we reach his bedroom, he lowers me onto the mattress with a gentle tenderness I don’t expect, his body following minein one fluid motion. The weight of him settles over me—solid, warm, grounding—and it feels impossibly right.
His eyes find mine, burning with an intensity that robs me of breath, of thought, of everything buthim.
“I’ve thought about having you here like this,” he confesses, voice rough as his fingers trace the hem of my sweater, “so many fucking times.”
I reach up to touch his face, tracing the strong line of his jaw. “Then show me,” I whisper.
His eyes darken at my words. With deliberate slowness, he pulls my sweater over my head, tossing it aside as his gaze sweeps over me.
I’m wearing a simple black bra, but his blue eyes pin me in place as he drinks me in?his gaze, raw and ravenous?and for the first time, I understand what it feels like to be worshipped.
“Fuck,” he breathes, leaning down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
His lips travel lower, skimming the swell of my breasts above the lace of my bra, and when his teeth graze the sensitive skin there, I gasp, arching into his touch.
“You like that?” He smiles against my skin, clearly pleased with my reaction before he nips at me again.
“Yes,” I breathe, threading my fingers through his hair.
“Good,” he says, reaching behind me to unclasp my bra with practiced ease, peppering me with kisses. “Because I plan onfinding out. Every.”Kiss. “Single.”Kiss. “Thing.”Kiss. “That makes you moan.”
I groan in response as my bra joins the sweater on the floor, and Brandon sits back on his heels, his eyes roaming over my exposed skin with reverence.
I fight the urge to cover myself, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his intense scrutiny.
“Don’t,” he says softly, catching my wrists when I move to cross my arms over my chest. “Let me look at you.”
His thumbs trace gentle circles on the insides of my wrists as he guides them above my head and holds them in place, then lowers his mouth to my skin, drawing a moan from deep within my throat.
“Brandon,” I gasp, my voice barely recognizable to my own ears.
He releases my wrists to palm my breast, his thumb brushing over me in a slow torturous motion as the world narrows to the touch of his hands, the heat of his mouth. My body responds to him like a perfectly tuned instrument, each caress drawing forth notes I never knew I could play.
I surrender to the symphony he conducts, my inhibitions falling away like autumn leaves as he slides his hand between us, drawing down my zipper, then my jeans. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers against my skin, his voice a rumble of thunder before the storm.
“You,” I breathe, the single word carrying the weight of everything I’ve been feeling. “Allof you.”
His eyes darken to midnight as they lock with mine, and before I can even register what he’s doing, I hear the ripping of fabric beneath my waist, feel the cool air on my skin. A startled yelp leaves my lips, which he drowns with his mouth before undressing himself slowly. When there’s nothing left between us but skin and shared breath, he pauses, hovering above me.
“I need to know you want this.” His voice is strained as he adds, “To hear you say it.”
“I want this,” I whisper, reaching up to trace the strong line of his jaw, his mouth. “I want you, Brandon.”
He growls at the sound of his name, capturing my mouth in a kiss that feels like diving into deep water?all-consuming, overwhelming, and like I’m perilously close to drowning in all thingshim.
His hands and mouth map the landscape of my body, discovering places that make me gasp and arch against him. Each touch ignites sparks beneath my skin until I’m burning from the inside out.
Reaching toward his nightstand, he removes something, and the crinkle of foil mingles with the heavy sound of our breath as he shifts to his side, his hands working between us before he commands, “Look at me.”
Our eyes lock, and the tenderness in his blue gaze nearly undoes me as something I can’t name clicks inside my brain to some unreachable place, and wraps around my heart with an emotion I can’t explain.
“Good girl. Keep them open,” he says as he settles over me. “I want to watch you.”
I gasp as he joins us together seamlessly, and sensation floods me, overwhelming every nerve, filling me completely. Brandon is a force, a dream made into reality—and together, we are something I could only dream of. Something perfect.
Tears prick at my eyes as it hits me with full clarity. This isn’t like anything I’ve felt with Ethan. It’s like comparing a flickering candle to a raging supernova, a timid whisper to a crashing symphony. Every touch, every look, every heartbeat with Brandon shatters the old and leaves something new and beautiful in its wake.
