“Oh, God, was I snoring?”
He buried his face in her neck as his shoulders shook with laughter. “No, Brianna, you were not snoring. And even if you were, I couldn’t have resisted kissing you.” He lifted his head again and brushed a lock of hair away from her face. He cupped her cheeks and looked at her, his eyes at half-mast and smoldering. “So damn beautiful. How’d a big oaf like me get so lucky?”
She gave him an impish grin. “Theft.”
“Whatever it takes.” He licked his lips as his gaze roamed lower to her cleavage just peeking out from her V-neck top. “Brianna,” he whispered, his breath caressing her skin.
“Take me to bed, Brock.”
“Like I said, I will. Right after I get you off so hard I’ll have to carry you there.” He touched her lips before she could protest. “When we make love, I want all night with you, and you’re exhausted whether you’ll admit it or not. You pumped out a lot of adrenaline today just being awesome. So, I’m going to give you a nice long orgasm, and then you’re going to drift right back off into a deep sleep, and I’ll wake you in the morning in time to get to the festival. Sound good?”
“I really have to answer that?”
Brock gave her a cocky grin. “Nope. You just have to enjoy.”
Before she could even think about saying another word, Brock kissed her—long and slow and sweet, banking the heat with gentle swipes of his tongue across her lips until she was squirming under him, wanting more. She tried to pull him all the way on top of her but he only grinned and sat back on his heels. “Told you already how this is going to go, Brianna. Now, swing your legs off the sofa.”
“I don’t even get to touch you?” She pouted, then felt satisfied when she saw the light in his eyes flare. Oh yeah, she could see he wanted that, wanted her hands on his cock, stroking, gliding, the tip of her tongue teasing him.
“Legs off couch now.” He grabbed her ankles before she had a chance to move and planted her feet on the wood floor, spread apart. He lifted the hem of her long skirt and draped it across her waist, then took the hem that made and folded it again until her skirt was out of his way. He drew in a sharp breath when her panties came into view. Brock bent and kissed her calf, then behind her knee, making her shiver. When his kisses reached her inner thigh, she was already trembling.
He blew a warm breath over her panties and she bit her bottom lip. Was he really doing this? Then he pulled the damp, lacy material off to the side and breathed directly on her sensitive skin and she arched her neck and exhaled the breath she didn’t know she was holding.
There it was—the fluttering of those surprisingly gentle lips over her clit. She thought she was aroused before but she didn’t know the meaning of the word until now. She fought not to press against him, but to let this experience unfold as he’d wanted it to. She turned her control over to him, trusting he’d bring her the pleasure he’d promised.
The tip of his tongue flicked over her clit. Back and forth, blindingly fast and she bit back a moan. His fingers traced her folds until her pussy spasmed, begging to be filled. She reached for him, hoping to tear off his pants to get what she needed.
“Mmm, my girl is hungry, isn’t she?” The vibrations of his voice against her clit damn near sent her through the roof.
“Please,” Brianna begged. “Just let’s do this.”
“You heard what I said. When we make love, it’ll be all night. This right now is for you.” And then he mercifully—oh, so mercifully—plunged a finger into her hot, wet, begging core, then added a second. He stroked and searched until he found the sweet bundle against her inner wall and pressed as he licked and suckled her clit.
That did it. She didn’t want to move because what he was doing was so damned perfect, but in the end, Brianna clutched the couch cushions on either side of her, arched her back, and moaned out her orgasm. Wave after wave crested as her pussy spasmed around his fingers. And he was a machine—adjusting his movements to prolong the pleasure—until she found herself peaking again. How was that possible? It had never happened before, not when she was with someone or playing alone. Brock was playing her body as deftly as she played her fiddle.
Sweat dappled her forehead as she relaxed back into the cushions after her second orgasm, completely spent. After a minute, Brock folded her skirt back down and slid his arms under her body. He picked her up and carried her down the hall to her bedroom. She nestled into his chest, breathing in the good, clean, mineral smell of his skin. It reminded her of the clearest mountain stream.
He set her down on the bed and pulled the covers back. He picked her up again and tucked her in. As he pulled away, she grabbed his arm.
“Stay,” she whispered. “I promise to be good.”
He chuckled. “You’re too tired to misbehave.” He brushed the hair off her forehead. “You really want me in here? With you?” The wonder in his voice perked her up.
“Why wouldn’t I? You gave me the first multiple orgasms of my life for starters.” She ran her hand up and down his bare arm. “But mostly, I want you to stay because I had an amazing day with you. Days, really. I think I could get used to having you around all the time.”
She’d gone for a light tone that didn’t touch how she was really feeling about Brock ‘Badger’ Jones just in case she was way off the mark. But she watched his expression go soft and her heart sped up. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, then walked around the bed and sat. He took off his shoes and socks and slipped under the covers next to her. He pulled her in close and she was amazed at how well they fit together.
* * *
Brianna woke up alone in the grey light of early morning. She reached for Brock and his side of the bed was cold. He’d left her? What time was it?
Wait. She sniffed the air and smelled coffee along with the heavenly aroma of bacon.No way. A minute later, she heard footsteps coming down the hall accompanied by clicking dog toenails.
Brock peeked his head in past the partially-closed bedroom door and smiled. “Morning, gorgeous. I went ahead and cooked up the bacon you had in the fridge. I hope that’s okay.”
“God, that’s better than okay, that gets you nominated for sainthood.” She sat up in bed as Brock brought in a tray with two small plates, a bigger plate heaped with bacon, another with buttered toast, and two mugs of fresh, steaming-hot coffee. Valkyrie trotted in, looking hopeful.
“Can I feed her?”
