Page 19 of Veiled in Brick

“Shit—ah!”

It was a noise cut with a peal of laughter that sent his head flying backward against the headrest, and I chuckled as I buried my face into his neck. My teeth grazed along to his shoulder, and I bit him softly.

One of his hands swatted down on my ass swiftly, and I moaned as he thrust up to meet my movements halfway. The stinging sensation on my left cheek sent me reeling, and I begged in a soprano-like tone:

“Please.”

He smiled, grunting as he moved, and he hoarsely asked, “Please what?”

My lower half tightened at the throaty tone of voice he used. “Spank me again.”

James caressed the same spot with care as we moved against each other, gave the area a generous squeeze, and then allowed his hand to rise and quickly fall against me once more. The smack resounded throughout the car, and I shrieked in delight. His fingertips remained on me, tracing the pain that lingered there.

“You like that, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

The reply was laced with a squeal that I couldn’t contain, as I felt myself on the precipice of release.

“Fuck,” he whispered, “I like it too.”

I tensed; my muscles ready to snap as I told him in a moan, “I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah?” His tempo remained the same, and he grabbed my jaw in one of his hands to angle my line of sight to his. “Come for me.”

My body listened, and I screamed.

James followed suit, groaning into my mouth as he pulled my lips to his, and I laid on his chest. His arms lay slack on my back for a while as we came down from our collective high, and he eventually moved to graze a single finger up and down my spine. I arched into the touch like an attention-craved cat, and a few breaths later, he leaned back to look into my eyes, chuckling as he asked:

“So, you want that marshmallow still, or what?”

Chapter 4

I did my laundry in a haze throughout the day as I wore a lopsided, lazy smile. Though the way that my morning had begun was, without a doubt, less than ideal, the turn of events that resulted were more than satisfactory. I relived the experience over and over, the scent of burning roses and roasted marshmallows fresh in my mind.

The afternoon came and went and the thoughts still ran through me, leaving me reminiscing as I laid on my couch and a documentary played in the background. Whatever the narrator was depicting was a general hum in my ears as I happily pictured James squirming beneath me as I raked my nails down his chest.

The front door creaked open, I shook my head to clear it, and Liam appeared with two six-packs grasped in one of his large hands.

“Hey,” he greeted me, and I clicked the pause button on the remote. Liam strolled in and set his items on the kitchen table, picking up a bottle and pointing it at me. “Cider?”

“What kind did you get?”

He peeked at the label and read, “Pear with notes of cinnamon, nutmeg, and—”

“Say no more, give it to me,” I told him with an outstretched hand.

He smiled, twisted off the cap, and chose a beer for himself from the second six-pack that he had brought. I sat upright once he approached and grabbed the bottle that he offered as he sank onto the cushion beside me with a heavy thud.

“Good day off?” he asked casually, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and taking a large sip from his bottle.

“Mhm.” I drank, making a pleased noise as the taste of the cider coated my mouth. “Did some laundry.”

Did some James.

I hid my smirk with another gulp of my drink.

“Did ya put it away, or is it all folded in a basket in the corner of your room?”

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