Page 9 of Big and Brawny
"You're so beautiful," he says softly, his large hands gentle as they trace the curve of my waist.
We fall onto the bed together, a tangle of limbs and kisses and half-removed clothing. There's no rush, no awkward fumbling—just the slow, delicious discovery of each other's bodies. Every touch is electric, every kiss a revelation. When we're finally skin to skin, nothing between us but the heat of our desire, I feel like I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.
"Tell me what you want," Orson murmurs against my throat, his weight braced on his forearms above me. "Tell me how to please you."
The tenderness in his voice undoes me completely. This powerful man, who could easily overpower me with his strength, treats me with such gentle care that it makes my heart ache.
"Just you," I whisper, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. "All of you."
He kisses me deeply, one hand sliding down between us to find the center of my need. The first touch of his fingers makes me gasp against his mouth, my hips arching instinctively toward him. He reads my body like a map, learning what makes me sigh, what makes me moan, what makes me clutch at his shoulders and breathe his name.
When I'm trembling on the edge, desperately close to release, he withdraws his hand and moves between my legs.
"Bronte," he says, positioning himself between my thighs.
"Please," I whisper.
The first slow press of him inside me draws matching groans from both of us. He fills me perfectly, stretching me in the most exquisite way, and for a moment we're both still, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's air.
"You feel incredible," he murmurs, his voice strained with the effort of holding still. "So perfect."
He starts slowly, with deep, measured thrusts that have me gasping with each one. The pleasure builds steadily, a slow-burning fire that threatens to consume us both. His eyes never leave mine, watching every reaction, learning what brings me the most pleasure. When he shifts slightly, finding an angle that hits something deep inside me, I cry out his name, stars exploding behind my eyelids.
"That's it," he encourages, maintaining the rhythm that's driving me wild. "Let go for me, beautiful. I want to see you come apart."
His words push me over the edge, and I shatter with a cry of his name, waves of pleasure washing through me so intense I can barely breathe. The feeling of me tightening around him breaks his control at last, and with a few more powerful thrusts, his hands tightening on my ass he lets go, filling me completely.
For a long moment, we stay joined, both of us panting and dazed.
Orson rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed and his expression one of perfect contentment.
"Come here," he murmurs, arranging us so that I'm nestled against his chest, my head tucked under his chin and his arm wrapped securely around me.
I curl into him willingly, tracing idle patterns on his chest with my fingertips. "That was..."
"Yeah," he agrees, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "It was."
We lie in comfortable silence for a while, our breathing synchronizing as our heartbeats slow to normal. There's something deeply intimate about this moment—more intimate, almost, than what we just shared. The quiet contentment of being skin to skin, wrapped in each other's warmth, with no need for words.
"Stay," Orson says softly, his hand stroking up and down my back in a soothing rhythm. "Stay the night."
I raise my head to look at him, finding his expression open and vulnerable. "You sure?"
"More sure than I've been about anything in a long time." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle. "I want to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up with you still here."
Something warm blooms in my chest at his words. "I'd like that too."
He smiles, relief and happiness mingling in his expression, before pulling me close for a tender kiss. "Good. Because I make excellent pancakes, and breakfast is definitely part of this deal."
I laugh, settling back against his chest with a contented sigh. "Pancakes, huh? That's a tempting offer."
"I'm not above bribery to keep you here," he admits, his hand continuing its gentle caress along my spine.
As I drift toward sleep, wrapped in the warmth and safety of Orson's arms, I think about how strange life can be. A month ago, I was devastated about my gym closing. Now, I'm lying in the arms of a man who makes me feel more cherished and desired than I ever thought possible.
Sometimes the universe knows exactly what it's doing, even when it seems like everything's falling apart.
six
