Page 172 of Trust Me Always

I want him to water me, to plant me, prune me, and pick me.

I’m a shaking mess already, and he hasn’t even gotten started yet.

Just as I think it, I’m flipped onto my back, giggling like a schoolgirl—a sound I’d be embarrassed about if anyone else were here to hear it.

But it’s just us.

And there’s no time for embarrassment because he’s already on me, dipping down and taking the top of my tank with him. His puffy lips close over my nipple ring, and I gasp into the space, his tongue rough like sandpaper.

My core is already clenching, desperate for something to grip on to.

He knows, his massive fingers coming down to play their part.

He slides right past my bottoms with expert skill, slipping inside with precision.

I arch, pushing into him until I feel the bottom of his fingers and there’s nowhere else to go.

“Always so wet for me, my dirty girl. Wet and ready.” He bites my nipple, teeth scraping along the piercing point and making me quake.

I drop my hands into his sweatpants, and he eagerly lifts hiships, letting me tear every bit of his clothing away. He wastes no time sliding his hard length into my open palm.

The black metal beads of his dick piercing roll against my thumb, and his heated groan washes over my chest.

We’ve done everything there is to do outside of straight-up penetration. Sex without sex.

He’s fucked the slit of my pussy, the cheeks of my ass, my mouth, and the shallow space between my breasts. I’ve ridden his hands and face, and he’s not intimidated by a good toy or two, but I’ve yet to feel myself stretch around his dick.

Brady pulls back, sliding his dick from my hands, and we’re both naked in seconds.

“Baby,” he rasps, settling over me and taking my mouth with his.

The kiss he gives me is slow and languid.

It’s a love language only we know how to speak.

“Brady…”

“Shh,” he whispers. “It’s me and you, Hellcat. I feel it right here.” He taps his chest, over his heart. “You asked me what I wished for the other night, and the answer is this. For years, every wish I’ve ever made was that there was someone out there made just for me who understood—whounderstands.” He smiles softly. “That’s you.”

I open my mouth, but I don’t know what to say, and he chuckles.

“Don’t worry, baby. I know.” He kisses me, this time a little longer and a lot dirtier, and when he pulls back, it’s with a long lick up my throat. “Now that the sugary stuff is out of the way, let’s get filthy.”

“Yes, fucking please.”

He chuckles, his hips shifting so he can slide over my clit, and I sigh at the feeling of his thickness between my legs.

I tug my hips back, twisting a little so he’s lined up right where I want him—no, need him, and his muscles tense the slightest bit.

He lifts his head, and our eyes lock.

“Trust me?” I whisper.

His grin is slow, and then he’s sliding inside me. “Always,” he promises, pushing the rest of the way in in one long thrust.

I gasp, my back arching off the cushion, eyes shooting wide and watering.

My man, he is thick. Long. And holy sweet heaven. The piercing! It’s cold against warm.

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