Of course, it had to be withhim.
His hand burrows into my hair as our mouths and tongues go to war, and his other hand stays on my hip, holding it firmly, andI can just imagine him holding me like this while he thrusts into me, taking what he so obviously wants.
That image—which is so vivid I hope I can manifest it like it’s the goddamn secret—is probably the reason why I do what I do next, reaching back and moving his hand so it’s at the bottom of my ass.
He makes another sound that I swallow, and I move his other hand too, next to the first. He gets with the program, and suddenly he’s lifting me up so my legs are wrapped around his ass and my back is to the wall.
Our mouths find their way back to each other, and now that he has me where he wants me, his hands move up my thighs under my dress, and—
“Jesus fucking Christ,” a familiar voices calls out.
Well, shit.
It’s my brother Rowan.
