Page 56 of Broken Roads
"You're trembling," he murmurs, lips brushing against my jaw.
"It's cold," I lie.
His chuckle vibrates against my throat where his mouth now explores. "Liar," he whispers, teeth grazing my pulse point. "You're shaking because you want me as badly as I want you."
The truth of his words sends a fresh wave of heat through me. I do want him. Have wanted him since that first morning in the hallway, maybe even before. My body responds to his touch like it's been waiting for him, specifically him, all this time.
I turn my head, seeking his mouth again, needing the connection. This kiss is deeper than the first, more deliberate. His tongue slides against mine in a rhythm that mimics what I desperately want from him, what my body is practically begging for as I press myself against the hard length of him straining against his jeans.
"Tell me what you want," he murmurs against my lips, voice rough with need. "Tell me, Hailey."
"Touch me," I manage, the words more plea than command. "Please, Bradley."
His hand slides from my back, around my ribs, until his thumb brushes the underside of my breast through my shirt. Even that light touch sends electricity racing through me, my nipples hardening in anticipation.
"Here?" he asks, his touch skimming higher, circling but never quite reaching where I need him most.
I nod, words failing me as desire clouds my thoughts. His mouth traces a path along my jaw, down the column of my throat, lingering at the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder. When his teeth graze the skin there, a moan escapes me, embarrassingly loud in the quiet night.
"Fuck, I love that sound," he growls, finally fully cupping my breast while his thumb brushes over my nipple through the layers of fabric. "Want to hear what other sounds I can pull out of you, sunshine."
The nickname, so unexpected and tender amid the heat between us, makes my heart stutter. I arch into his touch, silently begging for more, and he responds with a firm squeeze that sends sparks shooting through me.
"Bradley," I gasp, hips instinctively rolling against his. The friction makes us both groan, his grip on me tightening as he guides my movements.
"That's it," he encourages, his voice dropping to a whisper directly against my ear. "Show me how you want it."
My body responds without conscious thought, finding a rhythm against him that has us both breathing harder. His hand at my breast continues its torturous teasing, somehow knowing exactly how much pressure to apply, how to circle and squeeze until I'm practically whimpering with need.
"I've thought about this," he confesses, lips brushing my ear with each word. "Thought about you underneath me, on top of me, spread open for me." His tongue traces the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "Thought about how you'd taste on my tongue, how you'd feel wrapped around my cock."
The explicit words shock a gasp from me, my body clenching with need at the images he's painting. This is a side of Bradley I never expected—commanding, filthy-mouthed, utterly confident in his ability to unravel me.
"Yes," I breathe, not entirely sure what I'm agreeing to, just knowing I want it all.
His lips find mine again, the kiss almost bruising in its intensity. His hands slide lower, gripping my ass and pulling me tighter against him, guiding my movements as I rock against the hard ridge of his erection. Even through our jeans, the pressure is exquisite, building a tension low in my belly that winds tighter with each roll of my hips.
"Fuck, the way you move," he groans against my mouth. "The sounds you make." One hand slides up my back, tangling in my hair and tugging just enough to tilt my head back, exposing my throat to his hungry mouth. "Been dreaming about this since that first day."
His confession sends another surge of wetness between my thighs, my body responding to his words almost as much as his touch. I've never been with someone who talks like this, who lays his desire so bare. The raw honesty of it is as arousing as his hands on my body.
"Bradley," I gasp as his teeth graze my collarbone. "I need—"
"I know what you need," he interrupts, his voice a rumble against my skin. His hand slides between us, fingers pressing against the seam of my jeans exactly where I'm throbbing for him. "Bet you're soaked for me, aren't you, sunshine?"
I nod frantically, beyond words as his fingers apply perfect pressure through the denim. My thighs tighten around his hips, my entire body coiling toward release as he continues his deliberate torture.
"Want to make you come," he whispers, his breath hot against my neck. "Right here, under the stars. Want to feel you shaking in my arms."
I'm close, embarrassingly close considering we're both still fully clothed.
His words, combined with the relentless pressure of his fingers against my jeans, send me hurtling toward the edge. My body tenses against his, every muscle coiling tight as the tension builds to an unbearable peak.
"That's it," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire as he watches my face. "Let go for me, sunshine. I've got you."
The gentle command in his voice pushes me over. I come apart in his arms with a cry that echoes across the valley as waves of pleasure crash through me. Holding me steady while I ride out the aftershocks, he presses gentle kisses to my temple.
"Beautiful," he whispers against my hair. "So fucking beautiful."
