Page 54 of Happily Never After
What am I doing?
I shake my head rapidly, trying to dispel the anxiety, and frantic thoughts competing with made-up images of Kade wearing absolutely nothing but a fucking cowboy hat.
“If you open your pretty mouth one more time, darlin’, I swear I’ll find a way to shut you up.”
Did he mean with his mouth on mine, kissing me roughly, his tongue thrust between my lips, or something else?
Would he shut me up with his cock down my throat, or with my face stuffed into pillows?
My pussy clenches around my fingers, and I tug my nipple harder, twisting it the way I like. Hips rolling, fingers fucking hard and fast, thumb circling, and two yoga instructors moaning, whimpering, and groaning in the background, I’m seconds away from coming faster than ever.
I can feel it, feel it,feel—
“That’s it, Brannon!” the woman cries.
I nod, but it’s not Brannon I’m mentally calling, it’s Kade, and as horrible as it is, the man in my mind is about to drag me over the edge with his mouth glued to my pussy, his fingers buried so deep inside me, I’ll never be able to get rid of the feeling.
“Yes,” I beg, voice breathy. “Please,please, pl—”
“Spank my vulva, Brannon!”
I freeze, heart pounding, ears fuzzy.
“Activate my chakras! I’m going to transcend into the ninth dimension!”
My eyes snap open, brows furrowed, and I flick my blurry gaze to the TV.
Where the hell are her pants? Holy shit, my screen is filled with the bombshell’s literal bush, and Brannon…
Brannon is growling like a honey badger, and, and—
“Oh my God, they’re actually fucking!” I cry.
Glancing down, I find my own fingers buried deep inside me, my other hand aggressively palming my boob, and suddenly, I feel gross.
More than gross, I feel…
I feel post-nut clarity, and I didn’t even get to come.
“Oh, fuck,” I breathe, tugging my hands free. My fingers are soaked, and my pussy feels disturbingly empty—as if Kade were actually there—and another wave of shame washes over me.
The sensual beat pulses in the background, and a garbled moan penetrates the air. My core clenches in anticipation like some kind of fucked-up Pavlovian response. I suck in a sharp breath and slap my clean hand against theoffbutton on the TV.
Nothing.
I slam it again and again, but the only thing I see is Brannon pulling his dick out of the bombshell like they’re preparing for a position change.
My eyes go wide and I half-run, half-stumble to the outlet. I drop to my knees, searching for the right cord in a sea of black wires.
“Let your sacred sun-seed spill into my cosmic garden, Bran! I want to blossom with your aura.”
I rip out every plug in sight.
The sudden silence is deafening. My pulse is racing, and my brain is trying to catch up with what I just witnessed.
What I just did.
Holy shit. Was she about to come?
