“Okay, Jane Austen.”
Yes, I love Jane Austen. I blame the prison system.
Still, it’s new, Bram letting me see his vulnerability.
Reaching out to squeeze his powerful biceps, I grin. “I must’ve been on your mind an awful lot.”
He answers me with a kiss, snaking his leg around mine. We stay like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other, kissing, sliding against one another, reveling in the freedom—that wasn’t ours to take—to do this. Even though we’re naked and there are hard-ons involved, this isn’t purely sexual. His words come back to me.This is wrong, and I don’t want it to be right.
I don’t either.
Our kissing intensifies, and he slowly rolls me onto my back, letting his weight settle on top of me. I groan into the luxury, only now realizing how much I need this from him.
“Let me take care of you,” he whispers feverishly against my lips.
“Please,” I beg. “Please take care of me, Dr. Barlowe.”
Cocooned in our little bubble, he grabs the bottle of lotion and pours a generous amount into his hands, rubbing them together. When his palms land on my chest, they are warm and slick and so fucking sensual.
Methodically, he spreads the lotion across my chest and belly, causing me to arch when his palms glance over my nipples. He then moves to my arms, coating every square inch of skin. Adding more lotion to his hands, he switches things up and starts at my feet, then moves up my calves, pressing at the tender spots on my shins before rubbing circles on my knee and inner thigh.
I’m hard and ready to be touched, but he ignores my insistent hips in favor of flipping me over and repeating the process on my back and ass, up and down my legs.
“The color of your skin is so beautiful,” he says, his praise floating like bubbles in my chest. “Also, whoever did these tattoos knew what they were doing.”
Unable to stop from having a little fun with him, I admit into the pillow, “I traded blowjobs for every single one of these tattoos.”
Smack.
His broad hand lands across my ass.
I look back, grinning. “I was just telling the truth. Are you punishing me for telling the truth?”
Smack.
“We’ve already established that this is not punishment for you.”
Bram quickly moves on from the subject, and his jealousy only spurs me on.
Spreading my cheeks, he slides lotion up and down my channel using his thumb. Everything he does feels like a slow, methodical examination, and he hums and purrs every time he sees something he likes.
“I’ve counted the tattoos, Ignacio. It’s only fair you take my cock for every single one of them.”
I rock my hips, shaking my ass at him. “You promise?” I ask, looking over my shoulder.
He leans over, thrusting his bare cock between my cheeks as he whispers, “I always keep my word.”
I press up against him, needing him, but he pulls away. Before I can whine, he flips me again, pausing to admire my body, tracing over my tattoos with firm, sensual pressure.
Grabbing my foot, he pushes my knee toward my belly, stretching my hamstrings and exposing my hole to him. He presses his thumb against my rim as he deepens the stretch. I moan and roll my hips, enjoying the sensation of his thumb tipping in and out of me.
I grumble when he releases the leg, but then he stretches the other in the same way, thumbing me again.
Finally, he pushes both knees back toward my belly. Leaning forward, he runs his hot, thick tongue against my hole before pressing it inside. I shout, completely unconcerned about whether my sex-crazed neighbors can hear me.
As he continues tongue-fucking me, he plays around with my foreskin, pulling it back and over my cockhead, stretching the sensitive skin while pushing his tongue farther inside me.
He continues this fucking torture until I’m a drooling mess, then pulls away, gently letting my feet hit the mattress. Cupping my sides with his large hands, he uses his thumbs to massage the muscles on my belly, moving up to my rib cage, pressing and swirling against my aching nipples.
