Suddenly, I’m the one forgetting how to speak.
I nod, offering a helpless smile.
He moves before I can think, closing the distance in two quick strides. His hands find my waist, lifting me onto the edge of the vanity with effortless strength. I gasp, fingers curling in his shirt.
“Brandon—”
His mouth finds mine, decisive and consuming. One hand brackets my jaw, tilting my face to deepen the kiss. The other slides along my calf, grasping my knee before gently easing my legs apart. He steps between, thigh pressing forward, firm and insistent, spreading me further. The solid heat of him crowds against me, the hard press of friction drawing a moan from my lips as every coherent thought is erased.
“I—think—we have to go,” I manage, the words falling apart between kisses.
He rests his forehead against mine, breathing hard.
“We do,” he says, voice unsteady. “But not yet.”
He drops to one knee before me, lifting my skirt higher, and I stammer, “The others will be waiting—”
“Let them wait,” he growls.
He presses a kiss to the inside of my knee, then higher, his mouth tracing a deliberate path along sensitive skin. Each touch is unhurried, building anticipation until I’m trembling beneath his hands.
His fingers deliver gentle strokes through my satin panties.
“Maybe, I should take them off—”
I draw a sharp breath as he tugs my panties aside, his other hand braced against my thigh, keeping me spread as his mouth finds me with devastating heat.
The first touch of his tongue sends heat spiralling through me, molten and insistent.
He works me with focused intensity, each movement unravelling me further. My fingers tangle in his hair as my head falls back against the wall, his name breaking from my lips in fragments.
I can’t believe…
His mouth, down there.
No one’s ever done that before. Not Toby. Not the boy I dated before that.
I know what they liked. I never thought I would be on the receiving end.
The fact that it’sBrandonmakes it overwhelming.
The tension coils tighter, unbearable, my hands threaded in his hair, my breathing harsh amidst stifled moans. Each hot, wet, stroke of his tongue makes me writhe with want, driving me towards the edge until finally, pleasure crashes over me in waves.
I’m trembling, panting for air, but he doesn’t relent until I’m limp against the mirror, his whimpered name still echoing around us.
He rises slowly, his eyes dark with satisfaction.
“Now we can go,” he murmurs against my temple.
The smugness in his tone stirs something awake. He served me—now I want to serve him.
“W-wait,” I manage, sliding off the vanity and along his body until we’re chest-to-chest, his hands on my side. “Not yet.”
I’m shaky on my legs, but I press my hand to his chest, advancing with determination, walking him back until his spine hits the shower door.
“Lily?” he asks as my hands slide down his chest.
My lips brush his jaw, the faintest stubble grazing my skin.
